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#i don't think we even deserve final season
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You Call It Madness But I Call It Love
Chapter 14: You're All I'm Dreaming Of
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Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Soldier Boy POV
Summary: When the reader left Payback 40 years ago after a falling out with her childhood best friend she never looked back, but when two men show up to her apartment and start asking her questions about the past, the reader begins to think those things can’t stay hidden and starts to question what’s real and what’s fantasy.  This is a re-telling of The Boys Season 3, where the reader is a supe who's known Soldier Boy since 1927. The chapters will fluctuate between past and present. This is chapter fourteen of my "You Call It Madness But I Call It Love" series. (I'm so bad at summaries please forgive me!)
Word Count: 5.8K
Warnings: References to sex, Mentions of sex (not really explicit), Self-detrimental thoughts, Cursing, Drinking/Snorting Drugs, Soldier Boy might be, is, really, absolutely, a little OOC, Soldier Boy is really all you need as a warning.
Note: This is told from Soldier Boy's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. Reader is described as "curvy" occasionally. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!
Internal Monologue is in first person and is in italics
Series Masterlist
Masterlist
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Previously:
"Y/f/n Y/l/n?" The dark haired man asks, an accent tilting the ends of his words.
"Who's asking?"
He pulls out a badge, holding it up to the peep hole. "I'm Agent Butcher, this is Agent Campbell. We’re from the CIA, here to ask you a couple of questions about Soldier Boy."
You open the door to look at them. "The rapper?"
"What?" Agent Butcher looks confused.
"The rapper? Soulja Boy-" You arch a brow feigning confusion. "Because honestly I don't understand why the CIA would be asking me about that."
“No.” Agent Butcher holds up a photo.
You keep your face impassive. It’s a photo of Ben and you at a movie premiere the week before he left to go to Nicaragua.
“You’re here to talk to me about my mom?” You flit your eyes back to the two men standing in the doorway, easily slipping into the lie that you and Legend invented.
“Your mom?” Agent Campbell looks confused.
“Yeah. Indigo. Who did you think I meant?" You ask.
*******************************************
Present Day
*Soldier Boy POV*
The longer Ben sat in the motel room the more he thought of you. It wasn’t unusual. Ben was always thinking of you, even before he fucked everything up and before you two became supes, Ben rarely thought about anyone else. He hated that he did that, hated that you were always on his mind because he believed that he shouldn’t care about you as much as he did. Because why would you want someone like him? He was a fuck up before and after the serum and you deserved better. You always had deserved better.
When his cage had finally opened your name had been on his lips. He was ready to see you again, tell you how sorry he was, and how much he loved you. He hoped that it was you finally coming to take him away, but it wasn’t.
Y/n said she never wanted to see you again. Of course it wasn’t her.
He sighs and takes a bite of cheeseburger. His first one in 40 years, that the British fuck had gotten him, but it tastes like sandpaper, because he can't focus on anything but you.
"Well we know a few of your old team members are already dead." Butcher breezes pacing in the dingy motel room. "Countess, Gunpowder, Indigo-"
Ben reaches for his knife to grind up the oxy on the table in front of him, hoping that the pills will bring more relief than the whiskey.
It had been three days since he got out of Russia. Two since he visited Legend, when Legend told him that you were dead and Ben threw Legend's red armchair through the window of his apartment.
When Legend said it, Ben couldn't breathe, couldn't grasp that you were really gone. He didn't want to believe it.
You were all he thought the past 40 years, you were the only reason why he wanted to get the fuck out of Russia. He hated himself for what he had done, felt that he deserved the torture, but it was nothing compared to how he had tortured himself over the years.
The last thing he said to you often replayed in his mind and the way you looked when he said it burned against his eyes at night. He hadn't meant to hurt you, he didn't want to hurt you, never did. You were his oldest friend, the only person he knew that could be honest with him, call him out on all his shit, the only person who knew the real him, and the only person he could trust to be the voice of reason when he lost his temper.
And he threw you away like you meant nothing to him, when you were the only person who meant everything, the one person that he actually gave a fuck about.
Ben thought about your last night together often, remembered the dinner in the little restaurant when you wore a dress the color of his suit and looked more beautiful than he'd ever seen you as you danced to the song that always made him think of you. Remembered how he felt when he finally took you to bed, how each time you cried out his name it made him feel proud that it was him making you feel that way, that you wanted him as much as he had wanted you for so long.
Of course, then the memory of the next morning broke in his mind. When he woke up before you and held you closer than he'd held anyone else, slowly stroking your back and watching the gentle rise and fall of your chest as you slept and allowing himself to feel at peace. He couldn’t stop smiling in that moment because you genuinely wanted him to hold you close to him. When he woke up with you in his arms when you were children he feared that you wouldn’t want him to hold you, so he always pulled away, afraid of the rejection. He felt rejection from his father, but Ben knew that if you ever rejected him he wouldn't recover.
And then I rejected her, like a dumb fuck.
Ben was not a cuddler, he didn't think it was manly, but being there with you the morning after was different, and he believed he could have laid there for eternity listening to the soft beat of your heart where you rested against his chest and watch the gentle rise and fall of your body as you breathed. He had trailed his fingers along your spine as you laid on his chest, happy for the first time in his life.
When you told him that you loved him, he had been stunned. He remembered the soft blush of your cheeks and wide smile as you said it. He had wanted to say it back, to hear you say it once more, and to make love to you again while he said it- because he knew that’s what you had done together. He had fucked a lot of women, but that night with you was different, he cared how you felt, wanted it to be good for you, wanted to be everything you needed.
But the thought of you loving him scared him.
As much as it made him a pussy, Ben understood that it scared him.
You shouldn't love him because he didn't think that he could be what you wanted, that after all these years he couldn't be enough for you, and he believed that he shouldn't care for anyone as much as he did for you, because that meant weakness. That meant that every time you were on a mission together he would have to worry about you more than anything else. And Soldier Boy couldn't be weak.
So he pushed you away and ran to Countess. Ben's jaw tightens.
The psychotic bitch that sold me out. 
It had surprised him, how recently she had died. Butcher hadn't taken responsibility for it as he had for Gunpowder, which made Ben curious as to who had done it.
"Are you sure that Indigo is dead?" Ben asks taking another bite of the hamburger, but it still tastes like nothing.
He wondered if that was because you were gone and then wondered if he'd ever be able to taste anything ever again.
"What?" Hughie looks up from his bag of food. "Why would you think that?"
"Countess. Y/n hated her." Ben takes a swig from the bottle of whiskey on the table to try and dissipate some of the sadness he felt when he thought of you being gone. "Who told you that y/n was dead?"
"Her daughter." Hughie answers.
Ben freezes, his muscles tightening as a sickening feeling rises in the pit of his stomach. "She-she had a kid?" The thought made jealousy burn in his chest. Someone else had loved you, someone else had been man enough to say the thing that kept him up at night.
Of course she had a kid. She said she wanted a family. I was just too fucking stupid and couldn't admit that I wanted to give her that, to give her anything she wanted because I fucking love her. Did I really think she was going to wait for me? After everything I did to her? After everything I said? 
"Yeah-" Butcher shrugs. "Spitting image of her."
"She looks like her?" The thought of seeing you smile again makes something stir in his chest.
But it wouldn't be y/n. Ben reasons to himself. Because she’s gone.
His hand tightens on the bottle of whiskey and he’s surprised it doesn’t shatter in his hand as a wave of sadness comes over him. The memory of you and him at Fairmount Park, when you painted him briefly flashes across his mind and he allows himself to bask in your smile for a few fleeting moments before it’s gone. It makes him feel like he’d taken a knife to the chest at the thought that he’d never see it again and never hear you laugh.
"Yeah. Calls herself the same thing." Butcher continues.
"I want to meet her." Ben states taking one last drag of whiskey from the bottle.
"What?" Hughie chokes on his food.
Ben stands up. "I want to meet her. Where is she?"
"Oi, I don't think that's a good idea. She didn't really seem too keen on seeing you-"
"What do you mean?" Ben spits back, eyes narrowing.
Hughie shifts in his seat uncomfortably and Ben can hear Hughie's heartbeat quicken in fear.
"Don't be a pussy and just tell me." Ben snaps, becoming angry.
"She didn't want to talk too much about her mom. But she did mention how upset her mom was with you." Hughie states.
Ben felt the memories of the past creep up on him again.
Of course she was upset.
He remembered how broken you had looked the night you caught him and Countess. The look on your face forever sealed in his memory. He’d never seen you look so small. Honestly he was surprised that you hadn’t killed Countess that night. If he had walked in on anybody fucking you after the night you shared together, he knew that he wouldn’t have been able to stop himself from killing them.
Because you were his.
He thinks about Howard briefly. Ben had almost killed him before you were supes when he called you his at the dance. It was also difficult to walk away when Howard hurt you.
Ben’s thoughts drift back to Countess. Her body had been burned beyond recognition, but her head was no longer attached. It would have taken an extreme amount of force for someone to do that.
Could she still be alive?
Ben thought about your ability. He was the only one who knew what it really was, that you didn't just come back from the dead, that your body was able to take the power of any supe that killed you. It made you incredibly indestructible, more invulnerable than him, even though he didn't want to admit that. He liked the thought that he was stronger than you because it meant that you needed him to protect you. He liked the thought that you needed him.
The day you both figured it out momentarily dances across his mind, making him tighten his jaw.
He remembered the sound of the gun and how you immediately pushed him out of the way to take the bullet for him, because you didn't know he was bulletproof and your gut reaction was to protect him.
Ben remembered how he held you when you took your last breath, watched the fear and pain in your eyes, mirrored in his own body at the thought of losing you, of trying to exist in a world where you weren't there. It was how he felt now.
Purposeless.
He remembered the broken feeling that rose in his chest when he heard your heart beat for the last time and how he begged internally for you to come back to him, because he didn't want to live if it meant losing you. He remembered gently brushing your hair back from your face as relief swelled in his chest when you came back and he clung to you like you had been gone a millennia. Of course after he had yelled at you for being so stupid, for putting yourself in that situation, tried to act like he didn't care as much as he did, but you'd only yelled back and refused to listen to him.
She was just so damn stubborn all the time.
"I don't care. I want to talk to her." Ben grabs the black leather coat that Butcher brought him and changes into a dark t-shirt and a pair of jeans. "Take me to her."
Butcher rolls his eyes. "Well, she did call the other day and say that she had some information for me." Butcher shrugs. "Let's go."
"But-" Hughie interjects.
"Oi Hughie. Calm down."
"She lost her mother. I don't think she wants any reminders of that."
"I promise I'll be gentle, cupcake." Ben rolls his eyes and pushes past Hughie to the door, the thought of seeing you again or just someone who shared your face enough to make him feel something for the first time in forty years.
***************************************************
"Oi, Y/n you in there." Butcher presses the call button on the outside wall of the brick apartment building.
Ben looks up and down the street, noting the people who are walking down the cracked sidewalks. It was weird to be back in New York, to be in a city that he lived in for so long and feel out of place. Hughie had tried to explain some things to him about the new century, but Ben was still confused, and honestly he didn’t care. The only thing he could focus on was you and the possibility of you living here.
Not you. He corrected. But maybe. He still didn't quite believe that you were dead, that you could die.
A minute passes and Ben is tired of waiting. He confidently walks up to the glass front door, and pulls with  enough of his superstrength to break the lock and open it.
"What are you doing?" Hughie whispers following behind him, but Ben ignores the question strutting straight to the stairwell.
"What floor?"
"8th." Butcher says.
When they finally reach your door Ben pauses. He's not sure if he can look you in the eye, not after all of these years, if it really is you. And if it wasn't then what? What would I say to her daughter?
The thought makes the fear that he refuses to acknowledge grip his chest, the fear that you were dead followed by the feeling of purposelessness that seemed to follow him since he heard the news.
If it is her daughter, maybe she’ll tell me if y/n suffered, if she died thinking that I hated her.
The memory of the fight stirs in his chest as Butcher knocks on the door and waits. But nobody answers.
"Must not be home." Hughie shrugs. "We could call her-" He begins to say, but Butcher deftly picks the lock and the door swings open into the darkness.
As soon as Butcher opens the front door of the apartment and Ben steps through, all he smells is you. It's enough to confirm in his heart that it is you and not your daughter. He felt something in his chest stutter to a halt as he inhales the familiar scent of lavender and lemons. It was everywhere, all around him, flooding his senses. 
And for the first time in forty years he felt comfort, at peace. For a moment all thoughts of revenge, rage, and justice fades from his mind and he is left with the memory of you.
Ben immediately is transported back to those quiet moments when he settled into bed next to you after climbing through your window. When you would fall asleep before him and curl against him subconsciously, your hair tickling his cheeks and sending the soft smell over him. The nights when he’d wrap his arm around you as soon as you fell asleep because he was afraid to do it when you were awake, afraid that you would reject him like so many others did. Those nights with you outweighed any other time in his life. He remembered that each time he crawled through your window you smiled up at him, were happy to see him, so different than the home he left behind, where his father wouldn't look at him.
He remembered the nights after you took Compound V, when even after a hard day when he was a dick, you still allowed him into your bed, allowed him to sleep next to you. Those quiet moments in the late hours of the morning when you cuddled into his side and muttered words in your sleep that he couldn’t understand all the while he brushed your hair back from your face stayed with him. As much as he refused to admit to anyone, refused to show any emotion, being there with you, felt more like home than anywhere else.
That's why he asked you to come with him in the first place. He couldn't leave you behind. Maybe that was selfish of him, but he would not pretend to be unselfish, not when it came to you.
He thinks about all the suitors that he scared away before him and you left Philadelphia, all his friends who expressed interest in you only to have him drive them away, and of course the one that wouldn't leave. The one that bought you jewelry and finally asked you to marry him, another reason why Ben convinced you to come with him.
The jealousy was familiar. Ben didn't want to leave you behind, the thought that some other man would possess you or love you made his chest hurt. You were his. No one felt the way about you that he did, never would. No one would know you, care about you or understand you like he did, and no one knew you as long as he did. And although Ben had trouble expressing it, he knew that he loved you, he hated himself for being unable to say it. He couldn’t decide if admitting that he loved you made him a pussy or it was his fear of telling you that made him one.
Ben looks around the apartment, noticing the artwork on the walls, the messy studio table, and smiles. He remembered the way you always had a sketchbook with you, he used to tease you about it,  but you would only roll your eyes at him and continue to draw. He loved watching you sketch, watching how focused you were as you created something so effortlessly. He remembered watching you paint with the watercolors he got you, feeling a swell of pride that he was the one who started that love. Ben had been afraid to give them to you, afraid that it was too thoughtful, but then he remembered how widely you smiled, how happy you had been.
The apartment felt like you.
And by now again he knows that it is you and perhaps that's worse, because now he has to face you and he doesn't know how to fix this, any of it.
You weren’t like him or anyone else. You didn’t bend under easy promises and gifts like the other women he had been with over the years. Your ability to read him and understand him meant that you were special. And you were. You were special to him.
He moves forward towards the darkened hallway.
"Hey wait-" He hears Hughie say behind him, but Ben ignores him.
Ben finds your bedroom easily and the smell grows when he opens the door. He takes in the controlled chaos of the room before his eyes fall on the suitcase on the large bed.
Where was she going?
Ben pulls your supe suit out of the bag and smiles at the memory of the day you first tried it on. You never wore anything form fitting, hid your shape under shirts and pants, but the day he saw you in this for the first time made his breath catch in his chest. He knew that you thought you were fat, but Ben never believed that. He loved every curve of your body, loved to trace them with his eyes when you weren’t looking  and when you finally let him take you to bed, his hands. Seeing you in the suit for the first time was almost enough to push him over the edge, but he kept it together.
He notices the plane ticket on the edge of the bed, beneath the bag, and he pulls out the printed piece of paper, reading the fine print.
She was going to Russia. She was going to come get me even after I-
The emotion that rises in Ben's chest is unfamiliar. He did not like giving in to emotions the same way others did because he believed that made him weak, a lesson his father had ingrained into his mind. But this time he doesn't attempt to push it down. The plane ticket crumples in his hand as his jaw clenches tight. A part of him was relieved, relieved to know that somewhere deep down you still cared about him, maybe that meant that you would be willing to see him.
But he still didn’t know how to fix this. He'd never been good with words or apologizing or, well, love in general. He’d never loved anyone before you. He frowns at the thought of all the meaningless flings he'd had in the past. There was only one relationship with a woman he'd ever been in, with you, and he'd fucked it all up.
He kneels and reaches under your bed, looking for the box he knows will be there. It's a dark rosewood, one from your bedroom when you were a kid, but now it holds a different value. Ben sits on the end of your bed and opens it.
He had caught you with it a few times, usually when you started drinking or on your birthday, always on your birthday. It's why he never let you stay at home, he made sure you came out with him, because your mind would drift when you were alone and Ben didn't like the dark places it took you.
Ben rarely liked leaving you alone. Whenever he was on movie shoots in another country he would call you just to hear your voice, and even when he went to bed with someone else and they fell asleep he would stay up thinking of you, wondering if you missed him as much as he missed you, and wondering if you could sleep without him because he couldn’t sleep without you. Another reason why he pushed you away, believing that it made him weak.
The photo on top is unfamiliar to him, it's newer, and shows you standing with a young brunette woman outside of a college dorm. He traces the lines of your face with his thumb. He hadn't seen a picture of you in forty years, but you were just as beautiful as he remembered. The one that follows is also unfamiliar, you holding a baby wrapped in a pink blanket, the baby’s hand wrapped around your index finger, and you looking down at it like it's your whole world.
The look in your eyes does something to him. He remembered when you looked at him like that, the morning when you woke up next to him and whispered those four little words to him that he always wanted to hear while holding his face tenderly between your palms, "I love you Ben."
When things got bad in Russia he would strain to remember the memory, remember the way you looked at him, the way the words sounded falling from your lips. The words that he always wanted to hear you say. The morning that he wished he could change and the disastrous night he wished never happened.
"We shouldn't be here." Hughie says to Butcher in the living room.
"She ain't home. We'll go when he wants to leave." Ben hears Butcher respond.
But Ben knew that he didn't want to leave, wouldn't want to leave. He had spent the past forty years away from you and he didn't want to spend anymore time apart from you, even if that made him a pussy, he didn't care.
"This isn't a good idea. Y/n didn't want him here-" Hughie tries again
"Oi, look at this. She's looking at flights." Butcher states, when he notices the laptop on the counter.
"What?" Hughie asks.
"If it ain't her, how would she know about Russia?" Butcher says back. Ben hears a rustling like Butcher is going through the trashcan “And take a look at this-“
Ben shuts out their conversation and pulls other photos out, finally pulling out strip of paper from a Photo Booth. It was the day he took you to a baseball game,  before you were supes. You’d never been to one before and Ben had only been to the one his father took him to, when his dad got drunk and forgot Ben was with him. Ben frowns for a second but then looks back at the collection of photos on the strip. It was a good day. He had bought you a ridiculous hat, and you'd sat next to him looking radiant in the sunlight like you always did sketching him. Ben loved it when you drew him, it made him happy to know that when you looked through the pages of your sketchbook later that you were thinking of him. He often wondered if you thought of him as much as he thought of you. You'd both gotten drunk on cheap beer and when a woman yelled at you for being unladylike you flipped her the bird and said some choice words that made the tips of the woman’s ears turn pink.
Ben loved that about you, that you never seemed to care what others thought of you, especially your friendship with him. Everyone you knew had told you to keep a wide berth from him, but you didn’t listen.
Ben traces your young face in the photo with his fingertip.
Maybe she should have.
He turns back and pulls out a yellowed photo of you and your mother. Ben frowns at the expression on your face. You were never happy when she was around. He hated your mother, not just because she hated him, but he hated what she did to you. He hated that she made you feel ugly, when you were the most beautiful woman that he'd ever seen. Even as teenagers, Ben couldn’t help but notice how pretty your figure was and how you filled out the soft dresses you wore when you went with him on adventures through the city. He never thought you were too fat, if anything he liked your curves. The night you were finally together he worshipped them, wanted you to know that you were beautiful, to understand that he saw your beauty, because he knew that you still thought about what your mother said to you. He hated that she had such a hold on your life even though she had been dead for so long.
He hears a rattle along the bottom of the box and when he picks up the source of the noise he immediately wishes he hadn't.  It's a single pearl, and Ben understands what it's from. It's from the necklace he bought you for your birthday, the one that you ripped off your neck when you found him with Countess. He had agonized over whether or not to get it for you, thought that maybe it was too thoughtful or rather was too romantic. But the look on your face when you opened the box made him feel like he’d swallowed the sun.
Ben's teeth clench together as a wave of guilt crashes over him remembering what he yelled at you, remembering what he did to you. He thought that it had been what he needed to do, that he needed to push you away because he didn't want to care about anyone else, at least not the way he cared about you.
He hadn’t thought it would hurt as much to say those things to you, but it had all but ripped his own heart out.
But even before you found them together all Ben felt was guilt. He wasn’t enjoying anything he was doing to Countess, all he wanted was to do those things with you. He thought it was necessary, that by doing those things with her he could somehow clear his head of you, but all it did was make him feel guilty and want you more.
He thinks about the days that followed before his mission in Nicaragua, when he agonized over calling you, over showing up to your apartment, but he couldn't. He couldn't face you.  He hadn't been able to sleep those nights before the mission and wanted desperately for you to be there with him.  Ben couldn't sleep when you weren’t with him. He hated that he'd finally gotten you and then lost you so quickly.
Ben notices a velvet box, and he sighs when he opens it. It's an engagement ring, the engagement ring that you showed him the night he asked you to come with him.
He briefly wonders if you thought that was his version of a proposal. That you believed, turning your back on your family and coming with him meant more.
I’m such a fucking idiot. I should’ve-
“It really is a shitty ring.” He mutters. And it was, it was all wrong for you. Ben knew what you liked and he couldn’t believe that this was what that asshole got you.
Why did she keep it? Because she wanted to remember what her life could have been like if I didn’t ask her to come?
Ben remembers when he asked you if he ruined your life, before everything exploded. He imagined that after that night you changed your answer, because how could you look at him, let alone want to be around him after what he did to you?
Ben examines the ring again allowing the memory of the night you showed it to him push its way into his mind. He remembered being scared, of course he’d never admit that, he wasn’t a pussy, but he acutely remembered the moment you showed it to him. The fear of losing you that struck him when he noticed it on your finger, as the weight of what it represented settled on his shoulders. He knew that the asshole who proposed would quickly turn you against him, and this time you’d believe it because you loved that dick or-
Ben reconsidered. She didn’t love him because she came with you. She loved you.
He remembers again what it was like to be with you in  bed, when you whispered those words so tenderly to him and is struck with guilt all over again.
You had looked almost sheepish when you showed me the ring, like you were afraid to tell me-
Of course she was afraid to tell you. She wanted you to propose but you didn’t instead you fucking ruined her life and strung her along for 40 fucking years-
He never understood how you did that. Survived all those years with him while he fucked his way through everything that crossed his path. How you continued to stand by him when he was a dick to you and so many others. And yet you never let any other man into your life.
He remembers the night after you got between him and Noir, remembers asking you if you wanted to marry Howard, but you said no. The other things you said struck something within him. When you said you wanted someone to come home to, someone who would love you, a family. He remembers how you looked the night of your birthday in the restaurant, how you watched the couples around your table and smiled. He knew what you were thinking, and he had tried to show you that he could be that for you by taking your hand where it rested on the table even though it went against every instinct he had. He wanted so badly to give you those things, to make you happy. Ben didn’t want you to find that with anyone else. He would have loved to have a family with you, to be with you always the way you were always there for him, or were until he fucked it all up. He remembers asking you to marry him, apart of it had been a joke, just to gauge your reaction, but deep down he was curious. He hadn't expected it to hurt so much when you laughed him off.
Ben sighs. When you spoke about leaving Payback he was worried, worried that it meant you would leave him too and then who would he have? No one. It’s why he spent so many nights in your bed, with you curled up beside him. He didn’t want to be anywhere else.
He shuts the ring box with a snap and throws it back inside. The memory of the night you spent together is just on the edge begging to be let in. Ben indulged in that memory many times over the years, letting it strengthen him. Remembered every detail. It was the first time that he actually cared what someone else wanted in bed. He remembered how your cheeks blushed when you told him that you’d never had sex before and how you said that you wanted it to be him. He never imagined that you would want him the same way that he’d wanted you all those years.The exact reason why he drowned himself in so many other women, because he thought that’s what he needed to do. Because you deserved someone better than him, you always had.
The thought is immediately followed by what he yelled at you in the bathroom at the premiere, when he turned something that you believed to be special, one of the happiest nights of his life, into a cheap fuck.
He remembered the broken expression on your face. He'd never seen you look so small. Ben always admired how strong you were, but as soon as he said those things to you, he watched you crumble when he broke your heart.
Worse still was when he grabbed you. He fights the shudder, remembering how he grabbed onto your arms. As many times as you’d stood between him and the source of his anger, he’d never laid a hand on you but that night, he was just so damn frustrated. You were looking at him with those big eyes of yours that always saw through him, understood him, and he was frustrated because he wanted to tell you that he loved you that he always had loved you but he couldn’t. He couldn’t admit it because he was a man and damn it a man didn’t show emotions and he was Soldier Boy he didn’t need anyone-
His jaw clenches together so tight that he hears the click of his teeth.
But he did. He knew that all he needed was you.
I’m such a fucking asshole. Y/n doesn’t need me and I don’t deserve her-
Ben raises his head to look at your bedroom door as he hears the front door of your apartment swing open. And he freezes.
Because why would you want to see him? He had ruined your life.
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A/N: Alright everybody we made it to the chapter right before the reunion!!! What will happen? Will she forgive him? Who knows?! Even me, honestly. 😂
Thank you so much for reading! If you'd like to be added to my taglist, please let me know. :)
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lisbonsteresa · 1 year
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you don't get how crazy i'm going over this
#like....LIKE?????#not even talking about the lisbon of it all (we have to though these things are intrinsically connected but we're holding off for now)#i'm so....proud? of this little fictional man?#was the setup a little silly? maybe (but i loved every SECOND of it i can't BELIEVE i actually got a big blowout and a lowest point-#realization AND a rush to the airport confession that's SO)#this payoff was so SO worth it for me#and honestly i don't think the setup was even THAT silly -- what did lisbon say in 4.24? he had to hit rock bottom and know it or something#that's this. hurting her like this is his rock bottom (see you can't ignore the lisbon of it all - which i LOVE)#even with all the crazy shitty things he's done up until now; especially to HER; it was to get red john; he had that to fall back on#(not that he really saw it as a fallback but it gave him something else to focus on/something to justify his methods)#but after red john (episode not person) he doesn't have that anymore and he's been floundering ESPECIALLY when it comes to her#this wasn't a con (*not an official con) this was him doing something shitty and her finally having had enough#and him realizing just how right she's been; she was right on the first plane this season and she was right at the blue bird#and he's finally able to admit to himself just how much of a shit he's been...and then he's able to admit a lot of other things too#that little bit of honestly led to so much more and it let him FINALLY say out loud what they both knew (as much as they ignored it#or talked around it or pushed it down) and it let him say it without pretenses or expectations; just because#he 'needed to get to this' and she 'deserved to hear it' and i'm usually kind of meh on 'i needed to say it/you needed to hear it'#but this one; this one i GET#and i'm not explaining myself well at all i'm delirious but the point is this is SO well done and it feels DESERVED for me i love it#tm
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ennas-aesthetic · 8 months
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If we DO ever get a Good Omens season 3 (and fingers crossed we will) then using the Second Coming as the narrative device to facilitate the final culmination of Good Omens' ideology and message is brilliant, actually.
Because the Second Coming IS NOT another Adam situation. And, contrary to the misconceptions I've seen, It IS NOT about Jesus being born again as a baby, etc, etc.
THE SECOND COMING. QUITE LITERALLY refers to THE LAST JUDGMENT.
As in. The SAME Last Judgment Michelangelo painted on the walls of the Sistine Chapel. As in - THE JUDGMENT of the Living and the Dead. THE LAST, FINAL, ETERNAL JUDGMENT.
It's the WHOLE thing Armageddon was leading towards. Book of Revelation speedrun: the world ends, everyone dies, and then they get resurrected again to be judged by JESUS himself. He will flick through the Book of Life (WINK WINK WINK DO YOU SEE HOW LOUDLY I'M WINKING AT YOU???), and if your name is there he will go "oh nice you deserve eternal paradise! :D" and if your name is ERASED from the Book of Life he will go "oh no, sorry, you go to the lake of fire for eternity now D:" (except apparently in Good Omens lore it'd just DOOM YOU TO NON-EXISTENCE FOREVER???)
And if you THINK about it, The Last Judgment is the ultimate manifestation of moral absolutism. No shades of gray, no chances. Just BLACK, and WHITE. Never mind that you're like Wee Morag and Elspeth, who are forced to do "bad" things because of circumstances. It's either you pass Judgment Day, or you burn (or disappear forever.) And the way THINGS are going in the Good Omens universe? I don't think there's ANYONE "good" enough to be "saved." Not Crowley, not Aziraphale. Hell, not even the Archangels themselves.
So it provides a PERFECT opportunity for Aziraphale and Crowley to UPEND that SYSTEM entirely.
I think that's what Crowley and Aziraphale would do in s3: establish a new kind of system in which angels and demons have free will to determine the right (or wrong) choice.
Giving them the APPLE, so to speak.
And then they'll go off to retire in a cottage, together at last.
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inafever · 9 months
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On how much Aziraphale has learned since season one:
This is about character development. Inside of a story, everything that happens, happens for a reason. It's meant to tell you something, to teach you or the character of your story, something.
So if the story continues and your character repeats the same mistakes again you know that they are bound to be doomed this time, and even worse the audience is going to certainly lose respect for them, cause they have made the same mistake twice, they haven't learned anything, they're gonna do it again another time, they don't deserve a happy ending. (yes I'm talking about good omens here) So you don't do that to a character that matters to you and you respect even the tiniest bit.
A Lot of us here are thinking that this is what has happened to Aziraphale's character at the end of season two, that he has done it again, repeated the same mistake again and has left Crowley to join heaven and it's been because of reasons like wanting to change Crowley (not true, see this post), still believing in heaven's goodness (not true at all), not being on the same page with Crowley (I'm gonna talk about this one especially in this post) and such likes. But these are the things he should've known better about after 6000 years and all the events that we've learnt about especially throughout season two. (It seems to be rather the whole point doesn't it?)
But we all seem to rather believe that he's made that mistake again nonetheless. so what we're doing here is trying to find reasons to justify the mistake and somehow make the reason behind the wrong actions something relatable to ourselves so we can forgive him when the time comes.
In fact I don't believe that he's made a mistake. for Aziraphale's character to be redeemable, what he has done, must be the only option that he's had for saving them both. I don't care what kind of situation could have resulted in him making this decision, but the only reason, the one and only reason, must be his love for Crowley. Otherwise it'll prove that he hasn't learnt his lessons or doesn't love Crowley enough to make a compromise, and in both cases, he's not worthy of love. He won't earn his happy ending by being tortured and feeling sorry and doing the apology dance for Crowley if he's hurt Crowley out of selfishness and stupidity again
But I'm sure he'll earn his happy ending and I'm sure he's learnt his lessons and it's too late for him to have unlearned them all in a matter of a few seconds. (He is an idiot but he's not stupid) and it's mostly because of this, that I believe the reason why he made that decision, must be very different from what it appears to be on the surface.
Anyway, this post is about what Aziraphale has learned and how he's changed.
I have made a post about their moments of conflict from both season one and two, it's here and you can look it up. This is where you begin to understand how Aziraphale has changed since season one because these are his dialogues after he's had a fight with Crowley in the bandstand, season one:
"even if I did know where the antichrist was I wouldn't tell you we're on opposite sides"
"friends? We're not friends. We are an angel and a demon. We have nothing whatsoever in common. I don't even like you"
"there is no our side Crowley. Not anymore. It's over"
And then there's season two, when they disagree on what to do with Gabriel, Aziraphale is the one to point out that they both rely on the life they've built together
He's asking him to help him take care of Gabriel together and in response Crowley leaves
In the final scene he asks Crowley to come back to heaven
"work with me" "We can be together as Angels, Doing good" "I need you."
He says anything he can think of literally to convince him to stay with him and it doesn't work
We start from "we're not friends" and arrive at "work with me. we can be together"
Even if we don't know the reason why he's insisting on taking Crowley back to heaven with him, this is an Angel that has picked up the pace. That wants them to be an us. No matter what.
But these are only a few dialogues. I think there's more than that. I think the show in five and a half episodes (out of six) has tried its hardest to make the point quite clear about how Aziraphale feels about Crowley (or how strongly he feels those emotions). all through the way he looks at him and through his gestures and soft touches from time to time
I'm gonna make another post of those moments separately and I'm gonna link it to this when I do.
update: (here's the post. not just average moments of Aziraphale looking cute, it's something about the way he looks at him)
And I'd like to even compare those wishful glances to some of those from season one, but I can't, cause they are nonexistent in there.
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lunargrapejuice · 3 months
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will we make it through?
diluc ragnvindr x fem!reader | 7.7k + words
warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, hurt/comfort/smut, oral (receiving), very emotional and loving sex, over stimulation, cream pie, mating press if you squint. i don't think anything else but please let me know if i missed anything!
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the doors of the winery seem heavier than usual as diluc pushes them open, the parlor quiet and cold like the night outside and it makes his chest ache as much as his hands that held too tightly onto the hilt of the claymore tonight. usually the manor would blanket him with warmth the moment he stepped inside, especially when he knew you were waiting for him. finally being home, in your arms, simmered the flames of his duties that pushed him to work harder and harder and ignited a softer flame, one of love, more fierce and all consuming.
of late, that flame had been accompanied by a black smoke and uncertainty, clouding the once clear and comfortable distance between you. before it had been enough so that you ran as free as you pleased, for he would never hold you back, but close enough so he could reach out and pull you into him, watch over and protect you. bath in your light and love even when a man as shrouded in darkness and broken as him did not deserve it.
it started off manageable at first. a clench of his fist at his side when he had gone in to kiss you passionately, to convey how much he missed you, but ended up hurting you instead when his fingers tangled into your hair painfully. you yelped out in sudden pain and he pulled away so quickly, as if he had burned you, but it had only made it worse. he had swallowed down the lump in his throat when you sweetly told him it was okay and stood on your toes to kiss him softly but it was only the first of many loving intentions that did not turn out as he hoped. 
a pang in his chest when the only time he saw you was when he came home from being the dark knight hero, your tired form half sat up and in an uncomfortable sleep, the light in the bedroom still on and an askew book in your lap. he took great care in tucking you in with gentle movements and felt so badly when you woke up anyways, welcoming him home and whispering ‘i missed you’s before falling back asleep even if you tried to fight it off in order to be with him for just a little longer. 
his heart was torn between his selfishness to want these small moments with you and the need to protect you in any way he could, including your health and your sleeping habits. just because his own suffered at the cost of his duties should not mean that yours should too. he needed you to be well and with a reluctant heart told you not to worry about waiting up for him, that your sleep and well-being was far more important. 
the distance, that smoke that hidden you from him, had only grown since that day. 
reluctant and displeased in your own right, you still did as he asked and stopped waiting for him to return late in the evening, each night getting farther and farther from him, your sleep not improving at all. with the seasons changing it always made the winery grow busier, the threats to the city more eminent and with it all the moments you spent together becoming fewer and fewer. it was agony being away from you, diluc thought each time you popped into his mind, so frequently throughout the day, and yet you continued to be out of his reach, three or more paces ahead and he was falling even more behind. 
and as each of you passed by the staff at different times throughout the day, the same light missing from your eyes, they began to wonder if either of you knew the other was in just as much pain.
he trudges through the heaviness of his own whirling thoughts. as if every step he took through the manor the loneliness of years past came flooding back; the coldness of the first night without a father or a brother, ice in his bones and blood on his skin. an untouched room left to collect dust and remained familiar but was not quite home when he returned years later. except this time it wasn’t burned pictures and items full of bittersweet memories that haunted him, it wasn’t secrets and death at his own hands that followed everywhere he went. it was the fog of what was becoming of your relationship that painted his fears in every room he passed.
the emptiness of life without you..
and how could it not when your rescheduled dinners together have become forgotten entirely or when every day it felt like you were no longer on the same page, off sync and so unsure of the others feelings. when he’d go in to kiss your forehead in a brief moment of passing, just for you to move at the wrong moment and instead of a sweet kiss meant to show you his affection, remind you he was thinking of you, you hit heads, hard. you try to act like it wasn’t affecting you too. having you knock quietly on his office door, unaware of the important business partners in front of him but hurrying to apologize and leave before he can excuse himself for a moment to tell you it’s okay and that he’d come find you once he was finished, so please wait for him. thinking he’d have the night off work and you try to surprise him with dinner only to find he would be unable to join you and when he did the same in return, your schedule too wouldn’t allow for it. you smiled despite it all, a silent promise that you were okay even if your eyes told a different story.
to say it had been hard recently would be an understatement, trust him he is feeling it so strongly too. but even if it had been this way and he was getting by, barely, it doesn’t stop how much it rips his heart from his chest when he slips into bed tonight, strong hands with a slightly detectable shake to them caressing your lovely visage, moving hair from your face. he drinks you in, takes in every inch of the person he loves more than anything else in this world, tries to memorize your face like he hadn’t already a thousand times over, like he might never see you again, and with such attention it’s impossible to not see the dried tear streaks on your cheeks in the moonlight coming from the window. 
who knew one's heart could feel like it was still beating and breaking outside of their chest while the hole in their ribcage bled without mercy.. diluc felt just that knowing he was the cause of your pain and your tears and he wasn’t here to do a damn thing about it. how many nights had you spent like this while you were trying so hard to be strong? his thumbs caress the soft skin of your cheeks, as if they were attempting to wipe that which had already long passed and make up for a moment he had already missed.
diluc had always thought you deserved better, so much more than him because, even if he would give you the world, surely his darkness would take you like it had others and perhaps that was exactly what-
“‘luc?” your raspy and tired voice brings him from the words that surely wouldn’t be well for his heart but your bleary eyes, slowly blinking open and immediately collecting more tears, are just as telling to what he already knows. your tone wrought with lingering pain that you suffered in alone and it’s killing him, “y‘re home?”
“i’m home,” he assures you, his own voice unsteady as he pulls you close to try to hide, to not let you see the tears pooling in his eyes because he felt them burning the moment yours started to water at the sight of him. right now, in the middle of the night when you were both so close and yet so far, he didn’t know what else to do but try to be strong too and hold you against him while wishing he could carry the pain for you both, even if it broke him.
he can feel you shaking in his arms, knows the wetness of his shirt where your face is buried in his chest is from your silent tears but before he can speak, sooth you with a voice already breaking, your words stop his every function. he swears he’s not even breathing when you weakly ask him.
“diluc.. are- are we going to be okay?”
with the breaking of his heart, his whole body flexes and he holds you so close, in a vice grip you might have found crushing had you not needed it so badly yourself. one hand cradling the back of your head, burying in your hair, the other around your middle and keeping you pressed to him so nothing could get between you. he couldn’t hold back, couldn’t let you go for even a second, like every part of his rationale told him you would slip from his grasp if he gave even an inch. 
“yes. of course.” despite the tear escaping him when he speaks, he says the words tenderly, reassuringly, strongly as he believes them, feeling your hands bunch the fabric of his shirt in a tight grip in a silent reply. he could not even begin to imagine a life where you were not together, where you were not beside him until the end of his days. you had to be okay and he would do anything to see that through.
* * *
bustling life in the winery started early in the morning. even if the master bedroom remained quiet and peaceful, the rest of the manor had workers coming and going and maids floating from task to task as soon as the sun began to rise from behind the hills of mondstadt. diluc and the many tasks he had to see to were not immune to the earliest hours of the morning either, no matter how much his body and heart begged him to stay in bed with you.
this morning had been the hardest of all. how was he supposed to leave when you had cried yourself back to sleep in his arms last night and held on to him tightly even in your slumber? when he rose with the sun anyways he did his best to let you rest, with the intention of getting as much work as he could done early before coming to wake you up with breakfast, behind the closed door of your bedroom where it was only the two of you and he could take the time to have a proper discussion and tell you that he loves you.
but it seems yet again you were not aligned when not forty minutes after he settles into his study with large stacks of paper on either side of him, waiting for his immediate attention, you quietly knock on the open door frame and smile. one that makes his chest both flutter and ache. 
“morning ‘luc.” 
“good morning darling.”
you both say at the same time and are just as quickly flushed with heat and a kindle of hope. he stands from his desk and with long strides makes his way towards you as you stumble over what you were going to say next while diluc falls silent against the strike of the match deep within his heart, so full of conviction and the truth of the words he spoke to you last night. you were going to be okay. he had meant it with his entire being. 
the shy chuckle and smile you give him only fuels his hope more; so genuine and beautiful, full of the brightness he worried he was taking from you when all he ever wanted to do was preserve it, let himself get lost in it when you pulled him in so easily and found your own comfort in his shadows. the dress you wore, one you often put on when picking grapes in the vineyard that he recalled purchasing for you, one he knows well, only served to amplify how much he misses you, how absolutely divine he finds you. he would do absolutely anything for you. 
“i.. um, i know it’s busy around here but i just wanted to let you know i’ll be around the winery today if you need anything,” you say, that sweet smile still on your face. all he needed was you.. your smile falters when you hesitate to speak your next words, your gaze moving from his handsome face to the floor beneath your feet. feeling his heart pick up speed at the sight of your distress. he moves closer to you, his gloved hand ever so gently grabbing yours and it catches your attention. when your gazes meet again, he sees determination behind your sparkling eyes. “.. could we have lunch together later?”
he’s eager to answer you, wants to ask if you’ll stay in his study with him the rest of the day even if it’s a selfish request, even if it means not much work will get done when he’ll need to have you right in his lap. his grip on you tightens, his pink lips stretch into a loving smile but as the words leave him, they meddle with the sound of quick footsteps and elzer calling for the young master, unaware of the moment he was interrupting. had he known, he would have done more to delay himself even if this was rather urgent.
“master diluc, is the paperwork for the wangshu inn order ready? the shipment from liyue is -” elzer stops in his tracks, green eyes widening when he sees the two of you at the threshold of the study nearly chest to chest. diluc still holds onto your hand but both of your gazes are now on the butler. “i’m so sorry -”
“it’s okay,” you interrupt with a squeeze of your beloved's hand, trying to reassure you both that your words weren’t a lie. you smile despite the snapping of your heart strings. the universe was hell bent on keeping you apart, wasn’t it? “i was just headed out,” the words felt strained coming from your throat but you knew right now you were only interrupting and needed to let diluc get back to his work. 
as you let go of dilucs hand, your eyes return to looking up at him and you see emotions that seem to mirror yours, like in the deep ruby shade of his eyes you can make out how much it hurt him to hear you say you were leaving even though you would not be far. the push and pull of the many duties he carries on his shoulders and how painful it was when you pushed yourself away so he could focus on another, though he understood why.
“i’ll come find you.” a promise that you wouldn’t be apart for long but archons it was utter misery to have you be away from him for even a moment and watching you walk away and disappear from his view before he was ready had only made it worse, had only made his chest ache.
he wonders if you are holding back the tears you had, and hadn’t, shared with him last night as you push the front doors of the manor open, trying to keep your head up when he could see the heaviness of your heart like a blanket weighing down on you. it wasn’t until he couldn’t see you anymore that he returned to behind his desk, forcing his feet to move in the opposite direction of you when they screamed to follow, and did all the work he could before he could not hold off being with you for a moment longer.
the melody of your voice coming from the open window, distant but close enough that all it would take is a minute to get to you. his hand twitching at the remembrance of holding you for such a brief time hours prior. the picture of you from this morning, in that dress, smiling and blushing at him, flashing behind his eyes with every blink. your sweet scent lingering on his clothes. the love and devotion he holds for you, the distance and tears that had torn you both apart, the need to be close to his very heart and never ever let you go- it all stopped diluc so suddenly and he knew he was at his limit.
he needed you. more than air and water, more than his strength and the fire that had always been within him. more than anything else in this world and celestia he needed you. 
his footsteps are determined, not stopping for even a moment and only slowing when he nears the front doors, seeing adelinde among the few others in the fourier having finished the worst of the workload already.
“adelinde that will be enough for today. please excuse the staff for the rest of the day.”
“yes master diluc,” she doesn’t question it and is quick to let the others that hadn’t already overheard know, looking forward to any early day they rarely got.
the afternoon sun paints the fields in a lovely yellow, bringing out the shine of plump purple grapes and the brightness of the lush green leaves. among it all he easily found you and feels his heart surge at the sunlight illuminating the exposed skin of your chest and legs even at this distance. 
you hadn’t asked for the dress you adorned today, hadn’t even seen it before unwrapping the gift box he gave it to you in. it wasn’t extravagant but simple, comfortable, and of a shade that had always reminded him of you. it was years ago now but he remembers from the moment he saw it he knew how beautiful you would look in it and he was right. every time you wore it he had thought so and today that felt especially rue.
you caught a glimpse of bright red in your side view, the bounce of crimson locks and the darkness of his black coat in contrast to the vibrant day, before he made it to you but just the slightest sight of him had you paying not another thought to what you had been doing mere moments ago. the butterflies in your stomach began to flutter about wildly, the invisible tether of your love, that tied your hearts as one, going taut and bringing you to his side quickly, having you reaching for him as soon as you could.
“diluc~.”
“my love.”
he was just as eager to feel you, pulling you close to him with a large hand on your lower back as soon as you were within arms reach, the fingers of his other curling to caress your face tenderly. you melt against him, leaning into his touch, lashes fluttering closed, your hands holding onto his jacket tight. 
yes all he had needed was you. and in your hold, he felt how much you needed him too.
“spend the rest of the day with me?” he asks, voice little more than a whisper as he leans in to place a kiss to your cheek. the warmth it left on your skin was like the nourishment you had needed so desperately and you love how it lingers when he moves to kiss your lips, delicate and reassuring. 
“really? what about-” 
“please.”
“i- i would love that, so much.” 
your lips meet again, long and gentle, and you smile into his replying kiss, feeling that heavy weight of worry and anxiety melt away under his affections, the way he held you and kissed you softly with no intention of letting you go.
he had missed your smile against his lips, had needed it more than he thought possible and relishes in the way it lingers on his lips. it makes him feel lighter, as you always had, but in comparison his next words are serious, dripping with conviction and truth, telling you he needed you to hear his words and never forget them. 
“i am unable to envision a universe in which we are not together,” he pulls you closer so you’re now chest to chest, forehead to forehead, sharing every breath, every heartbeat. 
your chest tightens at the remembrance of last night. the thoughts that overtook your every worry, dug into every wound deeper and deeper until you weeped and dreamt of the terrible outcome of everything keeping you from him. a life full of still and dark numbness because truly how could the world keep spinning and moving so easily when you were without diluc.
“i cannot be without you,” he says, stopping your every thought, your every worry, kissing you again and again, whispering when he comes up for air, continuing to steal your breath. “not now. not ever.”
* * *
your feet hadn’t touched the ground since diluc lifted you into his arms bridal style, carrying you past the workers leaving for the day who didn’t disturb the soft gazes and wordless affections you shared as you disappeared past the front doors and into the now quiet manor. the heaviness of dilucs boots and the sounds of your lips now on his were the only sounds to be heard until the door to the master bedroom was flung open and you gasp at the intensity of which diluc presses you between his broad chest and the wall with a groan that made your core ignite.
the familiar wall cools your burning skin but it wouldn’t be too long now before the entire room was as warm as you and diluc were when entangled in each other. before the back of your head can be pressed against it too, with you so eager and pliant to accept everything he gives you and him so very desperate to not hold back, a large hand cradles the back of your head and keeps it from ever touching the wall as diluc kisses you deep, so full of love and desire. you can feel it with every movement of his lips on top of yours, the way his tongue swipes along your bottom lip and into your mouth, his fingers sinking into your hair, pulling you into him.
you can feel every heaving breath he takes, the weight of it on your body and the heat of it on your face. mixed with his normal scent of oak and wine it had you lightheaded, your thighs squeezing around his thin waist, your hands clinging onto his shoulders for more purchase even though he could easily hold your entire weight on his own and loved to do so. having you depend on him in any way always made his chest swell and right now, while he held you there grinding his hard clothed cock against the dampness of your panties, the fingers of his hand not in your hair squeezing the plush of your thigh, the flames of his heart threatening to devour every inch of you both, was no exception. 
how long had it been since he had touched you more than in passing or late into the night? since he could remind you in this way that you are everything to him? you had been a constant on his mind even if physically he was far away. every moment without you was spent yearning, worrying, aching and now that he had you in his arms once more, nothing to interrupt you, and the universe be damned, he would not be ever letting you go again.
he groans your name against your lips at the feeling of your fingers sinking into his hair and tugging on his roots when he grinds against you particularly hard, in perfect time with you chasing after him. “i need you so badly.” his kiss is consuming, nearly teeth clashing and absolutely breath stealing and with every thrusts of his hips, he swallows your sultry moans. 
he untangles his hand from your hair and grabs your other thigh, lifting you further up on his waist and easily carries you to the bed, each step confident and steady even with you distracting him, cupping his face in your palms, not wanting your lips to be apart from his for a even moment and he's sure to stay close as he crawls onto the bed. like you were the most precious of glass, he lays you in silky sheets and pillows slowly with your legs straddling his, your hands still holding onto his face, his strong arms keeping him from crushing you completely with his full weight.
you don’t realize you’ve started to cry until you taste the tears on your lips, warm and salty against the sweet taste of each other. diluc attempts to pull away, not far, but enough to check that you're okay and wipe your tears but you don’t falter in your hold on him and he cannot resist your gentle urgency. you can only deepen your kiss, tasting his tongue and lifting your hips to feel his cock that was making his pants incredibly tight.
neither of you know how long you stay like that, unable to part but when you finally pull away for air you desperately need, you’re panting and trying to tell him how much you need him too but it’s so hard to put into words right now. all you can get out is his name while you try to wipe your tears that just won't stop no matter how much you try to will them to.
“i’m here,” he assures you, bringing up one hand to wipe your wet cheeks with his thumb, watching your tears collecting on the dark of his gloves, feeling his own eyes burning. “i’m yours.”
“i’m yours,” you repeat in earnest, even if your voice is weak from your uncontrollable tears. your grip on him grows tighter as you pull him into a kiss, salty wet and desperate for him to know just how true your words were. “i’m sorry ‘luc. i’m so sorry..”
sorry we’re in this mess, that i can’t stop crying. sorry that i worried we might not make it through this, even if only for a night.  
he hushes you with a gentle caress of burning fingers along your face and through your hair, the press of steady lips against your cheek. “there’s no reason to be sorry, my dear. everything is  going to be alright, we will be alright.”
you nod your head, his words wrapping around your spine and seeping throughout your body, every ounce of you thrumming with the belief and the love you found in his words. “i love you.”
“i love you too,” he doesn’t miss a beat in his confession to you. he nuzzles into you, burying his face into the crook of your neck, taking in your sweet scent and the feeling of you underneath him, letting himself sink further into the mattress with nearly his whole weight enveloping you but it was more comforting than crushing and it had been exactly what you both needed. “more than i can put into words.”
your body was bursting with all kinds of heat, that from your beloved that he so naturally emitted and the burning, blazing flame within your heart that was a twin to his own. fueled by your love, by your devotion. and there was no denying the heat pooling between your legs either, the way your panties already felt so wet and the press of dilucs impressive erection against your inner thigh was not making it any better.
he felt it all too, wanting to let its fire consume him, bright and burning hot with his feelings for you, how he would do anything for you, how badly he needed you in any and every way. a familiar heat that he had felt for you since you stole his heart but even when he thought it impossible, it had only grown since that day and his inability to live without you grew with it.
his lips meet the skin on your neck, soft kisses placed along the length of your neck to below your ear and back down again, making your skin burst out in goosebumps. “can i have you?” he asks when his lips return to where they started.
“please.” you say with eagerness, your hands tugging at any part of his clothes that they can hold onto. 
every move diluc makes is delicate, intentional, showing you the truth and intensity of his love. first, he removes his gloves, needing to feel all of you against his skin. vivid, hungry, scarlet eyes never leave your figure as he pulls off the leather from each hand and tosses them onto the nightstand, feeling you shudder under his touch when one hand grabs your thigh, spreading your legs further apart and the other ghosts over your collarbone, skilled fingers dipping below the strap of your dress, moving along the hem that plunges to your breasts.
“you are so soft,” he murmurs as if he hadn’t known he said it outloud, as if it had been the first time he had ever felt your skin in a way only he should touch you. the pads of fingers ghost along the tops of your breasts, barely moving below your dress to feel all of you but still hardening your nipples under the fabric. 
your chest is heaving, like his touch was burning into your skin for you to remember for all time, your heart hammering in your chest every passing moment, every touch diluc gives you. your back arches to allow space for his hand snaking around your waist to your back and in his endless strength, he lifts your figure, your arms wrapping around his neck for stability. his movements are swift as pulls up the fabric of your dress, your arms leaving his embrace so he can take it off you completely.
in your needy movements you try to reach back with one arm to undo your bra but a strong grasp holds onto your wrist before you can unclasp the prongs. you feel it more than see it, the shake of his head in protest.
“let me take care of everything,” he says, deep and rumbling against your body, his breath fanning against your neck where his lips have once again found their home. 
diluc guides your hand to his chest and you grip onto the fabric on his coat, wishing he was just as bare as you, especially when he unclasps all the hooks of your bra in one motion, pulling the fabric from between you and discarding it by your dress.
with a last kiss and a small lick of his tongue against your skin, his hand still splayed on your back, he guides you back down into the plush mattress, staying on his knees between your spread legs. now only a thin pair of lace panties keeps him from seeing all of you and he takes his time revealing you to him, unwrapping you like the gift you were and making you tremble with his hands and lips.
he kisses you, strong hands squeezing your waist when you moan into his lips and you might have cried in protest when he breaks away but they don’t leave you long, finding your collar bone and moving across your chest, down your arm, each finger, every knuckle and back up again only to move to the other arm, not a bit of you going unloved.
you shudder as his lips cascade down your middle, leaving a humming warmth in their wake all the way to the edge of your panties and back up to your breasts. he kisses the underside of one while grabbing the other with a gentle squeeze that has you mewling, arching for more. his breath fans against your sensitive skin, hot and heavy with parting of his lips as he envelopes your hardened nipple and presses into you, letting you feel how hard he is with a roll of his hips against yours.
every sweet suckle and lick of his tongue, attention that he gave to both of your breasts, had the pooling wetness between your legs soaking through your panties and your hips bucking to feel more of him. when diluc finally does part from your chest, he sits back on his knees, his tall frame towering over you and archons you swore you could cum just from the sight of him like this.
his muscles flex as he gets himself out of his coat and vest, his chest rising and falling with heavy breaths, throat bobbing, his cock painfully hard and thick in his pants, a familiar stickiness already smearing along where it rests in his boxers but it’s the last thing on his mind. there's a deep flush to his cheeks, his eyes rich with longing and love and behind it there's no hiding a lick of flames that are that of a man starved and so beyond desperate for his other half.
you’re not even sure you’re breathing watching him tug off his tie with one hand, your gazes never breaking, his other hand traveling down your leg to behind your knee and lifting it to his chest. long dark lashes flutter closed as he nuzzles his nose near your ankle before placing a kiss there and another and another, your legs already getting a light shake to them.
“you are so beautiful my love,” he whispers against your skin, his hand on your leg squeezing your flesh. another kiss, chaste and sweet and full of devotion, it’s heat lingering on your ankle even after he’s pulling away and tugging at the hem of your panties, lifting them up your legs.  “i could never be without you.”
“‘luc..” you feel the tears pricking at your eyes again, hear the way your voice is wrought with emotions you’ve held back, tried to deny, pent up when you couldn’t be near him like you need to. “please, i need you.”
he knew all the ways you meant it, for he felt it too and knew what lay within the heart that he swore to protect and cherish. the very one he had been apart from in so many ways for far too long and that lay in front of him now, completely his to take again and again even if he didn’t think he deserved such a wonderful thing.
with your leg easing over his shoulder, his hair tickling the inside of your thigh, he spreads your legs further apart to allow space for his broad shoulders and doesn’t give you a moment to catch your breath after seeing him between your legs looking like heaven before his tongue, hot and flat against you, licks your dripping pussy with a deep moan that rumbles the bed under his chest.
the taste of you melting on his tongue makes him drunk so quickly. in a way wine and alcohol couldn’t attempt to rival and even more potent with intoxication. your reactions to his lapping tongue only add to that state of euphoria, diluc always finding that your pleasure was his own.
any other night this could have been enough to ease the overwhelming need he felt for you. sucking your clit between his lips, hearing soft and hazy curses drifting down to his ears, your fingers tugging at his hair with every intense shake of your legs that he kept pried open with strong arms when they threatened to close around his head. not that he would ever mind suffocating in between your thighs but this gave him the perfect angle to taste you and thrust his tongue in and out of your tight hole and tonight, he isn’t sure he’ll ever get enough.
every breath you took was deep but it was never going to be enough against the man you love utterly devouring your pussy, spreading your legs wider and diving his tongue deeper into you, his nose pressed against your clit until you worried he wasn’t even breathing.
your orgasm came before you could even try to hold off for a little longer, bursting on his tongue and eagerly drank down. your body writhes in his persistent hold, your hand buried in the mane of his hair pulling him closer and farther away, his name a melody of pleasure and need for more on your lips. 
diluc doesn’t pull away, the languid movements of his tongue turning soft and soothing, letting you ride out every last bit of release without over stimulating you too much, allowing him to capture every bit of your essence on his tongue and feel your small shake when he rolls his tongue over your clit, too much and somehow not enough on your electrified body.
at the release of one of your legs, your warm skin rests over his shoulder again and he sighs against your clit at the contact.
“ah..!” you can’t help the jolt of your body at the feeling of skilled and calloused fingers parting your folds, the mixer of you both wetting them perfectly enough to slip one into you with ease, knuckle deep and curling right into the perfect spot. “diluc!”
he keeps a steady rock to his finger, lewd wet noises following every pump and lick on your clit that he gave with so much fervor, rebuilding that knot behind your tummy in seconds and when he added another thick finger, there was no holding back how quickly he could have you creaming and clenching around his digits.
you cry out, sweet and shaking and feeling like you might die if you didn’t feel him inside of you, if you couldn’t look at his handsome face and show him in this way just how much you loved him, how much you missed him, too. and before you can even fully come down from your high, with diluc still kissing your pretty pussy, you’re begging for him.
“love - please.” 
he pulls away from your cunt with lidded scarlet eyes, your juices sparkling against his chin and nose as he sits back on his knees. it leaves you so incredibly empty when his fingers follow but your wanton whimper was due to the way he licks his fingers clean, long soaking digits slipping past his pink lips with a groan, dark lashes fluttering closed at the taste of you.
tugging at his shirt, you plead again but you never have to with him. all you ever had to do was ask and anything he could give you would be yours. “need these clothes off you. need to feel you against me.”
any worries, any self doubts, of what your touches could perhaps do to the other, hurt you again, not be attuned like you once were, melt away in the heat of every touch you give one another with no hesitation and no question on where your heart would be from here on out.
your fingers overlap as you help each other with every button of his shirt, the buckle of his belt and ties of his pants. your hands roam his body with each article of clothing he takes off and throws to the side, mapping out the scars you know every place of and a new scratch you had never felt before on his right pectoral.
it made your heart ache that he got hurt and hadn’t told you, that you hadn’t had the chance to care for it yourself but knowing him, you’re sure he hardly called this ‘getting hurt’. it wasn’t deep, likely nothing more than the tip of a blade nicking him that was nearly healed but you can’t stand the thought of any harm coming to him. let alone during a time where you were so apart. 
using one hand to prop himself up, diluc slides out of his pants and boxers, cock resting against the thin red trail of hair adorning his lower abdomen, his tip sticky against his skin. with him hovering above you, your lips replace where your fingers touched over his injured skin, gingerly kissing him, pouring your love over every heartbreaking inch of his injury.
as if he had sensed the worry swirling in your heart, he lifts your gaze back to his with a gentle pull under your chin that you easily followed but he didn’t speak any words and instead he calmed you with a loving kiss to your lips that told you it was okay. he was okay, here with you now and forever.
he follows your lips as you lay back down, now resting on his forearm to be closer to you, chest to chest, the heat of his fingers like butterfly wings down your stomach to line his cock with your aching sex, sliding his tip between your wet folds until he could feel the mix of saliva and slick on his fingers.
the thickness of his cock head was a lovely mix of pleasure and burning stretch that had you clinging to him when he was barely inside you but he could have cum from the small, squelching thrusts into your perfect pussy alone. deeper and deeper with every few roll of his hips, he groans your name between his kisses that steal every bit of your sanity and diluc feels his own slipping with it. 
“fuck angel,” a rare curse falls from his lips when he’s fully sheathed inside you, so tight around him, and stilling his hips to allow you to adjust to his size. his forehead finds yours, crimson hair now completely free from its ribbon falling on the sides of your face and wafts the scent of his shampoo into the air. “you are so perfect.”
shaking your head with a breathy chuckle, you cradle his face with both your hands and instantly he melts into your touch, feeling the small rock of your hips letting him know you were ready for more. he doesn’t part from this closeness, each heated breath shared with the thrusts of his hips that start slow and deep.
you try to force them away but you can’t help the tears that well in your eyes being so full of him, being close to him again, the love you share so evident you were overwhelmed in the best of ways. but you still wanted more, wanted to be overtaken and drowning in it until it was all you knew because for so long, longer than you thought you could endure, you were without and right now, as you held him with as much need as he held you, you hardly knew how you survived up until this moment.
more of him wasn’t something you had asked for. he was yours for the taking in heart, body and soul and in every delicious roll of his lips, in and out of your sweet tightness, each one with more fever than the last, you were lost in the scent of sweet wine and smoke, the burning flames of your beloved that cradled you and protected you and the undeniable love that was sewn between you in an unbreakable bond.
diluc brings you ever closer, a large hand sliding underneath your head to cradle the back of your skull and kiss you. your lips meet, full of so much love and longing and muffled murmurs of pleasure. you feel his hair tickle your face with the pace he set, his chest following to get closer, pressing right against yours and loving the way your breasts bounce against him each time he bottoms out, hitting the perfect spot in your gummy walls. he was pressed so close you wondered if it was his own heart beat you were feeling or your own, not knowing where his body ended and yours began.
he was so deep inside you with every snap of his hips, so close in every way possible, and when you felt him picking up the pace of his thrusts, using the arm not holding the back of your head to grab onto your thigh, strong fingers sinking into your flesh with gentle power and bringing your leg to rest at the side of your chest, you couldn’t help but whimper against his kiss swollen lips.
“oh gods… ‘luc!”
your back bows off the bed, at least the best it can with diluc pressed against you but you were unable to control the way your body reacted to how well he split you open on his cock, his leaking tip always hitting your g spot, perfectly fitting inside you like you were made for each other.  
but it's the way he says your name, dripping with liquid fire and the stars he would pull from the dark night to show you how much you meant to him, that sent you over the edge of euphoria and when dilucs ruby eyes flutter open to see your crystalline tears that sparkled with the light of your love, love he had always been sure he didn’t deserve but couldn’t live without all the same, his own release followed, heavy and throbbing in the tightness of you.
he stays inside of you, feeling his cum leaking from your hole and down towards your bum but thoughtfully he moves your leg to a more comfortable position at his hips and lifts a bit of his weight off of you to allow you to take deep breaths, his arm flexing as he moves but not being able to be far, both because he couldn’t bring himself to, not yet, and because your hold on him remained snug with your arms around his neck.
all you could do was hold onto him, never wanting to leave this moment, and confess your love over and over, every one returned in kind with a burning passion.
“we will always be okay darling,” he whispers, brushing the tip of his nose along your own before placing a sweet, long, kiss to your lips. “i swear it.” 
♡♡♡♡♡
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buggachat · 10 months
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So, this is very important. Emilie or Amelie?
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(Answer: Amelie. But seriously, I'm getting ahead of myself, let's talk about it.)
This is kind of a long post. If you don't want to read all of my ramblings, feel free to skip to the final point. That's the important one.
A mysterious woman who is clearly one of the two Graham de Vanily twins was in attendance of the party at the end of the episode. But is she Emilie (Adrien's dead mom, revived by Gabriel's wish) or Amelie (Adrien's already alive aunt)?
Here's the thing. The answer to this question is actually extremely important. Emilie being alive would be a HUGE deal and would have extreme consequences on the narrative and themes of the show.
Seriously. We need to know whether or not Emilie is alive. So, let's discuss— what do we know?
1. Amelie should be at this party.
Seriously. Amelie would be at Adrien's party.
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You know who is in attendance at Adrien's party? Not just his friends, but also adults in his life. Nathalie. Su-Han. Jagged Stone. Penny Rolling.
You know what Penny Rolling's relationship is to Adrien? She's the manager/new girlfriend of his friend Luka's recently-undeadbeated-dad. And she was invited to Adrien's party.
Seriously. This is a party of any significant character. Everyone and their mother was invited and— hey wait, where's Félix's mother? Félix is here, and certainly our favorite mommy's boy would invite his mother along. Surely Adrien's aunt would be invited to Adrien's party.
You know, Amelie's aunt, who had a not insignificant arc in the story? A family member to the Agrestes, who we've seen struggle, who would well deserve a shot of her smiling at a party at the finale?
Amelie, who had some unresolved tension with Nathalie, centered around their respective relationships with Gabriel? Tension that would likely be rectified after Gabriel's demise?
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Not only would Amelie be at this party, but I absolutely believe she would be sitting next to Nathalie. (I mean, they do know each other. Who else at that party does Amelie even know?)
If that's not Amelie, then where is she?
Oh, and side note, what was the shot just before the shot of the mysterious woman? Oh, that's right. Amelie's son.
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2. She only appears for a brief flash, given no more significance than any other character in attendance.
There's a reason why everyone is using the same shot of the mysterious woman when discussing her. That is the only shot of her. There are more shots of Penny Rolling than of her.
Here's the thing. Either Emilie is alive in this final scene, or she isn't. So, how would you expect this scene to play for these circumstances?
Here is a complete list of everything I would expect if Emilie were not alive:
A brief shot of Amelie.
Here is an incomplete list of some of the things I would expect from a "Emilie, the mother of the deuteragonist and ghost that has been haunting the narrative for 5 Seasons, is alive now" reveal, at the bare minimum:
A shot that lingers on Emilie.
Emilie, seated with Nathalie AND HER TWIN SISTER.
A shot of Emilie opening her eyes during Gabriel's wish.
The newscast, which they watch during the party, having a mention of "... and Parisians are still celebrating the rescue of Emilie Agreste, who was previously missing but recently found!"
Adrien literally acknowledging that his dead mother is suddenly alive at all? AT ALL? Looking at her, mentioning her, literally ANYTHING from him? I mean, seriously, what did he think happened—
3. Adrien's perception of his mother's reappearance would need to be addressed. It was not.
Adrien does not know the wish was cast.
Adrien does not know anything.
Here's the thing. While, yes, Emilie has been described as "missing"/"disappeared" in the show, it is absolutely clear to the audience that Adrien has been under the impression that Emilie is dead.
We know this from the painting in the foyer that depicts Gabriel and Adrien in mourning. We know this from the way that Adrien (correctly) draws the conclusion that "Nathalie has the same illness as my mother, therefore she is dying". We know this from the way that Adrien speaks about his mother in past tense, how he encourages his father to move on and date Nathalie, how he has never once in the show seemed to be under the impression that Emilie could come back.
So, if Emilie suddenly came back........... someone would need to explain it to Adrien. He would need to be fed another lie about it. We would need to be made privy as to what he believes happened.
Examples of how this could have been easily achieved:
Again, the newscast. Nadja acknowledging that the missing Emilie Agreste had been found. Maybe mentioning that "she was found being held captive by Monarch" or something. I dunno, whatever lie that works.
Adrien, during his conversation with Marinette, mentioning what happened to Emilie from his perspective, the same way he vocalized to her what his perception of Gabriel's death was. I mean, seriously, Adrien was already doing this expositional dialogue... why wouldn't he mention his mom during it?
4. Leaked production material does not change the final product.
Yes, scripts were leaked of this season. There are deleted scenes in the storyboards. There are script changes and allusions to certain things and mentions here and there in these materials that suggest that the mysterious woman could have, at some point in production, been Emilie.
... at some point in production.
So, here's the thing. This is the most solid Emilie argument we have. In fact, I'd argue it's the only argument that holds any real ground at all. .......... and it's in content that we aren't supposed to have.
( Actually, it's the only real Emilie argument I've seen... period. The only other one I've seen is the fact her statue is gone, but I'd argue that the removal of her statue has symbolic weight no matter what. It was a symbol of Gabriel's obsession over her, the way that she haunts the narrative, the way she looms over the Agreste household. Alive or not, this is not the case anymore. So it makes sense to remove it. )
If your interpretation of the source material is solely, and I mean SOLELY based off of out-of-context snippets of things that were in the writer's room Vaguely At Some Point, things that now directly contradict the final product, things that the audience was absolutely under no circumstances meant to see...
You're not interpreting the episode. You're interpreting out-of-context snippets of a rough draft of it.
So, here's the thing. I've seen some of these leaks, I've seen a lot of people talk about these leaks, I've seen the rumors and I've heard the gossip. I'm not going to parrot it, because honestly, I'm still annoyed that the leaks exist at all. It feels a bit insulting to the art form, tbh, that incomplete scripts are being passed around and touted as significant and more accurate than the actual completed script.
But I'll say one thing:
If the rough drafts of scripts, deleted scenes, etc pointed to Emilie being alive.......
Why did they remove them?
(The answer is simple: because they changed their minds. And you don't have to stress about or mull over why they did it, because you were never supposed to know that it was changed, because you were never supposed to know about out-of-context rough drafts of the script in the first place. It doesn't matter. It's not the product. Writers are allowed to toss around ideas and scripts and then change them. It's unimportant and you're not supposed to be privy to it. It's not for you. It's not what they made. It's certainly not more accurate to the direction they're headed than what they settled on. )
Point is:
IF THE LEAKS DIDN'T EXIST, YOU WOULDN'T BE CONFUSED.
YOU ARE NOT SUPPOSED TO SEE THE LEAKS.
YOU ARE NOT SUPPOSED TO BE CONFUSED.
5. So, Astruc on twitter.
Okay, I love perusing Astruc's twitter for snippets of information as much as the next obsessive miraculous fan. I have perused his twitter a lot. Astruc always addresses comments and concerns under like 20 layers of coyness.
People ask him, "is it Emilie or Amelie"? And basically, every time, he responds with some variation on "pay attention and you'll know".
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He's been shooting down people presenting the clues they find to him, on both sides of the argument. Some examples (which include the Amelie wearing black and Emilie wearing white thing):
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So, what does this mean, beyond the already known fact that Astruc likes to mess with us?
Obviously, I'm not Astruc. I don't know his mind. I also don't have much of vested interest in dissecting everything he says, nor do I take his word at face value a lot of the time (again, he likes to mess with us).
However, I think two things are fairly clear here:
It IS possible to know whether or not Emilie was revived by watching the episode.
It's not the small details he wants us to look at. Admittedly, color schemes and set dressings are small details. It's not the big picture. It's not important. It's not the heart of what he, or any writer in his position, would want us to interpret.
( Side note, but if nearly every single Emilie argument is based off of things NOT ACTUALLY IN THE EPISODE, then doesn't Astruc saying the answer is in the episode shoot that down right off the bat? But hey! I digress. )
So, what is the big picture? What are the things that writers are truly proud of? What is the thing that a writer would want us to pay attention to? What are the details of the show that can help point us to what transpired in the episode? What—
6. The WRITING of the ENTIRE SERIES, INCLUDING within THIS VERY episode, the dialogue, the themes, the character beats, the symbolism— Literally. All of it. Points to Emilie. STAYING. DEAD.
This is actually the heart of my point.
Emilie absolutely was not revived here.
Here's the thing. The themes of grief and loss and mourning are extremely present within the Agreste arc. Throughout the entire series, the following has been hammered in by the writing:
Gabriel is obsessive for wanting to bring Emilie back. His desires are not healthy or sound. He is delusional. He is hurting Adrien and Nathalie by living in this fantasy.
Gabriel should have moved on.
Nathalie wants to move on.
Adrien has already moved on.
EMILIE HERSELF wanted them all to move on.
Emilie is a nearly angelic figure. Adrien is literally the deuteragonist of the series. Nathalie is a morally grey character with a clear redemption arc. Gabriel is the antagonist.
The "better" the character is, the more certain they are that Emilie should not be revived.
The CORRECT choice, if Gabriel and Nathalie chose the "right" path from the start, would have been for Gabriel and Nathalie to focus on parenting Adrien themselves, instead of obsessing over bringing a dead woman who has already come to terms with her death back to life. That's what Emilie wanted. That's what Adrien wants. That's what Nathalie has wanted but was too afraid to say. That's what Gabriel refuses to accept.
Look, if I go in depth into the scenes where this is addressed, I'd be here all day. Instead, have a screenshot compilation, I guess.
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Again. That's been a core message of the series this entire time. And while I don't have screenshots of it being spoken so plainly in seasons 1 and 2, Gabriel has always been depicted as sinister, and his obsession has always been framed in the wrong.
Now, if you're one of those people who refuse to analyze the text at all or interpret what the messages of the show are on the grounds of "the writing sucks so who cares, it's probably just inconsistent writing and they forgot about the themes in the final episode" or whatever, then like. Ok. But here's the thing— this theme is even more hammered home in the finale.
Guys. I'm serious. What the hell do you think the scene before the wish was saying?
Gabriel, at his lowest moment, brought down. Gabriel, detransformed and on his knees before Bug Noir. Gabriel, at the final hour of his life, near tears, still obsessing over his wife, still thinking of his wife his wife his wife above all else, as Bug Noir lays out the literal themes of the show to him in all their beautiful glory.
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And then literally forces him to watch the very videos that he had tried to force Nathalie to delete. Forces him to face the very words he refused to acknowledge. Forces him, at his lowest, to come face-to-face with the truth he denied.
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.... And it hits him. What she's saying hits him. Because how can he deny Emilie's own words? The very woman he's doing it all for? How can he bring her back to life when she would want nothing less? How can he force the love of his life to live knowing that someone had died for her to, when she didn't want that? How could he have lost himself so much in the madness?
And then Bug Noir comes in with THIS
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.... And Gabriel says....
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.... Note that, he does not continue to deny it. He does not plead his case that Emilie should be alive. He is no longer arguing that. Here, he has seemingly begun to accept the premise that Emilie should not be brought back to life. Instead, he has a new premise:
He does not want to be alive if Emilie is not.
Gabriel is not selfless. Gabriel is not a good man. Gabriel says, earlier in the episode, flat out, that he is more than willing to kill whoever it takes, whatever rando he wants, to get what he wants.
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Here's the thing.
Gabriel wants to be with Emilie.
Gabriel is willing to kill anyone, whoever it takes, to make this happen.
Gabriel realizes Emilie does not want to be alive.
Gabriel decides that he will honor Emilie's final wish......... only partially.
Because Emilie wanted both Gabriel and Nathalie to take care of Adrien. But Gabriel does not want that. It's not that Gabriel is above killing someone to save his own life, it's that he realizes that he, too, does not want to be saved. Because he does not want to live in a world without Emilie.
He would rather be dead, with her, than alive and caring for his own son.
Gabriel Agreste's wish is a suicide. I mean, we already knew this— but I mean, literally. It's not a selfless sacrifice. It's not one final act of goodness. It's a suicide. He decides he wants to die, and he decides that he will save Nathalie in the act— because it's what Emilie wanted, and Gabriel is obsessive. The only person who would reason with him is Emilie herself.
And what does Gabriel's wish look like? How is it depicted to us?
Gabriel and Emilie, cast in a white light. Emilie lifts from her coffin, notably still limp, as Gabriel rises up with her.
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He rises up with her, notably supporting her limp head with his hand. She is still unconscious. And he is joining her.
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One last selfish act. The final nail into his "trying to be a dad" coffin. He doesn't want to be a dad anymore. He only wants to be with Emilie. And he will gladly pass that responsibility, the responsibility of parentage, onto Nathalie— The only character in the show who has been showing an explicit, vested interest in LIVING to take care of and be a parent to Adrien.
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Nathalie is alive. Nathalie is well. A life for a life. One life for one life. That's all that's depicted. That's all that's shown.
Is it TECHNICALLY POSSIBLE that more could've been a part of that wish? Is it TECHNICALLY POSSIBLE that the wish could've been more complicated? Is it TECHNICALLY POSSIBLE that some random other person died? Is it TECHNICALLY POSSIBLE that all of that dialogue and that entire scene and the entire buildup of Emilie's recordings were just soooooo lol random and that Emilie just decided that she's totally cool with being revived and alive now and that the entire themes of the series were a lie?
I also think it's technically possible that Marinette has secretly been a hamster wearing a human suit this whole time, and Lila is actually secretly a sentimonster made by Gorilla. And maybe this show isn't a romance, actually, and that Adrien and Marinette aren't meant to be endgame. In fact, maybe the entire series was a big prank. Maybe I'm adopted and my parents lied to me about it.
But how it looks, from what I see, from what I've watched, what just happened is....
Gabriel accepted that Emilie is dead.
This made Gabriel want to die, too. Because he doesn't care about Adrien as much as he cares about Emilie.
So, he did. And he shirked parentage onto Nathalie.
Is this "winning", by the way? By any stretch? Is this "Gabriel getting what he always wanted"? Is this "Gabriel being proved right"? Is this a lack of consequences? Are we really going to call a broken man, who has been slowly turning to ash and rotting away for an entire season, who suffered and was beaten down and, at the very end, had the only people ever in his corner (Nathalie and Adrien) cursing his name and wanting him dead.... him being right all along? Is him committing suicide the series justifying his actions? Is him committing suicide (again, not a selfless sacrifice) him "doing good" and "being redeemed" by the narrative? Is a faux image of him, a false narrative, a complete fictional person that he never truly was being celebrated by ignorant Parisians, him "being redeemed"? I suppose that's another essay altogether. But I'm tired of writing.
also, there was still only one goddamn twin at that party
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joeys-babe · 3 months
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Joey B Imagines: A Day In The Life
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Summary: You do a mini TikTok vlog of a day in the life with your boys while pregnant. (Pregnancy announcement to the public!)
Warnings: Fluff
Pairing: Joe Burrow x reader
Imagine Universe: Into The Mystic
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January 10, 2024 - *35 weeks pregnant*
After posting some more pranks I've done on Joe, surprisingly, my following on TikTok has grown significantly.
Usually, posting Joe on my socials garnered negative attention, AKA hate. I did it because social media apps were meant to share your life, and Joe was a huge part of my life.
I never meant it in a braggadocios way, but that's what people seemed to take from my family photos and post-win pics with my husband.
That's why I was so surprised to see that everyone loved my Joe pranks.
The comments held a consensus that I’d never seen under a post of mine, they loved Joe and I’s dynamic.
I didn't need the public fan validation to make me feel secure in my relationship with Joe, but for once, they understood how special our relationship was, and some even apologized for past statements.
“They love us, Joe.” - you
“No, honey, they love you.” - Joe smiled
After those words were shared, Joe pointed out how all the comments were mostly praising me.
“take back everything I said abt her.”
“stop she matches joe’s energy so well…”
“the way he can’t stay mad at her, they’re so in love”
“actually such a cute couple”
“they compliment each other so well!”
“i see why joe married her! 🥹”
“i want y/n to be MY mom.”
“who gave y/n the right to be so adorable.”
“she’s so fun!”
“the way joe looks at her.. 😭”
“still jealous, but he loves her sm.”
“MY PARENTS.”
“i bet y/n’s the best mom and wife”
“Everyone’s switching sides now, but they never deserved hate. Joe wouldn't marry her if he didn't love her, and I'm glad that you guys can see that now. She makes him really happy!!”
“See? Some are even requesting more videos, baby. Do you see how many new followers you've gotten?” - Joe
“It's just because I posted content of you…” - you
“No, don't say that. It's because you showed your personality, and they love you. They see why I love you.” - Joe
“Do you really think so?” - you
“I know so. Everyone thinks your pranks are hilarious, you're funny, and you handle me super well.” - Joe
“I do handle you super well.” - you laughed
“The best.” - Joe winked
——
That was two days ago, right after we put the twins to sleep and right before we went to bed ourselves.
Currently being nine in the morning, I just woke up.
It was off-season now, but that still meant early mornings.
This morning was a little different, though, because I was making a ‘day in the life’ TikTok.
Since my pranks had become a hit, I've gotten quite a few video ideas from fans in the comments. Most wanted to see more of our everyday lives and wanted to know what it was like as an NFL wife and mother.
So, I decided to do a short video to show what our family day routine was like on an average off-season day.
The thing is… Joe didn't know it was happening.
Joe loved that I was finally being seen the way he saw me but was still weary of what I was posting.
He wasn't a huge fan of social media, and being super public with our relationship and kids, he detested it.
I respected it, but sometimes Joe would ask to participate in a video unprompted.
Lately, that has become a bigger case, so I was hoping he wouldn't mind taking part in the mini-vlog.
Joe was still asleep when I got out of bed, so I discreetly walked into the bathroom after grabbing my phone.
I wouldn't be talking in the video, just showcasing the sounds of the background and whatever I was doing, while the text that I would put over it later would describe what was going on.
After making little clips of me brushing my teeth, washing my face, and brushing my hair out, I walked back into the bedroom.
Next, I recorded a little snippet of me picking out my outfit - leggings and one of Joe’s hoodies - before turning my phone off to get changed.
Now that I was ready, I headed downstairs to start breakfast.
I pulled ingredients out of the fridge for Joe’s smoothie, omelets for me and me, and some of the ingredients for the boy's pancakes.
Just as I was starting the blender, a sleepy-looking Joe with raging bedhead shuffled into the kitchen.
“G’morning.” - you grinned
Thankfully, he put on sweatpants and a T-shirt, and I was glad of that because he'd complain about being shirtless on camera.
“Hi.” - Joe mumbled
“You good, buddy?” - you laughed
“Mhm. I just don't like waking up to see that you're not next to me.” - Joe
“Awe, I'm sorry. C’mere.” - you
I opened my arms to Joe, and he immediately was in my embrace. My arms were around his waist as I squeezed him, and his head lay on my shoulder.
When he pulled away from me, Joe’s eyes landed on the recording camera and immediately went wide-eyed.
“Why are you recording?” - Joe
“I'm making a ‘day in the life' video. I won't put anything in it that you aren't comfortable with, like what just happened.” - you
“Oh… ok. Yeah, don't put that in, though, because I sound like a baby.” - Joe
His grimace made me laugh because I thought our interaction was cute. Then again, I loved Joe’s needy, soft side. It was purely adorable.
“My baby.” - you grinned
“Stop…” - Joe
Joe was trying to hide his smile as his cheeks turned pink, and I couldn't help but giggle. I loved knowing I could make him blush, even after all the years we've been together.
“Do you need help recording anything?” - Joe
“Not at the moment, but if I do, I'll ask you.” - you
“Okay. Want me to make the pancakes?” - Joe
“Sure! Can I get a clip of you flipping them?” - you
“Of course.” - Joe smiled
Shortly after that, Joe got started on the pancakes, and I recorded a little video to get audio of the sizzling from the hot pan.
When I got a short clip of Joe flipping a mini pancake, I didn't put his face in it, but you could very clearly see it was him. His easily recognized bracelets and hands gave that away, along with the laugh the speaker picked up when he executed the flip perfectly.
“I should be a pro cook.” - Joe
“We both know that shouldn't happen.” - you
Joe busted out laughing and told me to put that in the mini-vlog.
“Will do.” - you giggled
——
Later in the day, I had gotten most of the wanted content filmed, including waking the boys up, breakfast, and playing/cleaning around the house.
Now, Joe, Me, and the boys were on our way to the reason for the entire video.
AKA the ultrasound that I'm having today.
It was a hard launch of my pregnancy, but Joe and I thought we'd include it in the video since my maternity photoshoot wasn't for a couple more weeks. The reason we were announcing it before the shoot was because it was getting hard to hide my growing bump. We’d much rather announce it ourselves than someone screenshot a picture of me in the background with a round belly.
When we got sent back to the ultrasound room, Joe sat in the chair next to where I was. Tyson was in Joe’s lap while Miles sat in the chair next to them.
“You ready to see sissy?” - Joe
Tyson and Miles both nodded, causing Joe and I to both smile.
Soon the ultrasound tech walked into the room and before I knew it, the familiar feeling of cold gel on my stomach made me hiss.
“Okay, Mama?” - Joe
“Gel’s just cold. I'm fine.” - you smiled
Joe made sure to get a good video of you watching the monitor, and he felt tears pricking in his eyes at the sight of his baby girl.
He would never get tired of being called, girl dad, Joe wore it like a proud Boy Scout who had just received a new badge.
“Baby Girl is doing great, measuring how she should be, and is very healthy.” - Tech
“Good.” - you and Joe in sync
After a few more minutes, she wiped off my bump, and I was set to go.
Joe helped me off of the chair and pulled the hoodie back over my stomach.
“I love you.” - Joe grinned
“I love you too.” - you
——
I spent the first thirty minutes back home editing together the clips I already had, getting approval from Joe for each one.
It surprised me how much feedback and “Oh, this would be cool!” Joe was giving me. He liked this more than I thought he would.
We ate dinner just shortly after that, and the rest of the afternoon was slow, as it usually was.
Tyson and Miles went to bed earlier than usual, so Joe and I spent the majority of the evening watching space documentaries that Joe had been wanting to watch.
The last video of the day routine vlog was of the TV in front of us, Joe’s hand on my bump in view, as well as our legs tangled together.
I never truly appreciated the little things in my everyday life till they were pointed out in a video, like how Tyson always looks at Joe for approval before doing something or how Miles's eyes crinkle up when he smiles, just like his daddy’s.
Watching back at the completed TikTok while tucked into my handsome husband’s side as he rubbed over my baby bump and drew little shapes on it with his thumb had me thinking something I seem to always find my mind drifting off to. Oh, boy, was I one lucky girl.
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Authors note: cutie family fluff for Sunday
Request for this fic; thank you anon! 🫶
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Hope you enjoyed! 💕
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Text
I've been thinking about how Ed starts directly killing people in s2e8. I've seen a lot of worry that this is tragic, that it's Ed falling back into a life he hates with more vigor, and I don't think it's meant to be understood that way at all.
I think it's a triumph.
One thing we absolutely have to understand: there has never been a time on the show when Ed wasn't killing people. That's true for all characters; this is a show about pirates. Even in s1, Ed was leading successful raids and ordering racists skinned. In a realistic sense, nothing has changed.
The difference is in how Ed does not need to construct intricate ways to distance himself from it anymore.
We know that Ed's first time killing was his abusive dad, an event that deeply traumatized him, and it left him thinking himself an absolute monster. His own capacity for violence disgusts and terrifies him, and even though he's been very successful in a very violent career, he needed to distance himself from killing people ("the fire killed those guys, not me") to avoid confronting this part of himself. He believes that the part of himself that is so capable of violence is irredeemable, a monster, unworthy of love.
Even at the start of the season, when Ed is in a self-destructive spiral, it's debateable if he's directly killing anyone. If Lucius had died, he'd probably have said the sea did it, not him. The guy we see him shoot during the raid sequence already had a knife through his chest - it's a step up, and surely meant to be understood as self-harm more than anything else, but that's still a mercy kill, if anything.
Compare to the finale of season 2. These are direct kills, there is no way to argue that Ed is not responsible. It is not debateable that Ed killed all those British officers.
A lot of the worry I've seen around this concern how Ed is going back to what he's good at (as Pop-Pop told him to), and there's an asusmption that that is killing people/violence. But that's not true, is it? Ed's never been good at killing people, his hangups around directly killing are a known character trait. So...what is Ed good at?
Think about how the scene plays out. Ed sees the Republic burning; he can only assume Stede is either captured, wounded, or dead. He's horrified and dazed, his ears ring - he kills the two British soldiers who happen upon him, he decided to fish up his Blackbeard outfit.
What is Ed actually good at? He's a good pirate, a good captain. He's good at keeping his crew safe, he's good at keeping Stede safe. He has to think he's either going to be embarking on a mission to get revenge or to save his boyfriend.
At first, I was very hesitant about the idea of Ed having to go back to piracy, which he says he hates. But what he was actually trying to do was drown Blackbeard, the part of himself he sees as so unworthy of love. He needed to see that Blackbeard is part of him, that he's not a monster or unloveable, that Blackbeard can help him save his friends and his boyfriend.
It's not a coincidencethat the show goes out of its way to make Ed's killing people in this episode as morally easy to accept as possible. The British officers we see are all racist and mean and unpleasant - like, damn, singing 'we shall never be slaves' while making Black characters serve them? Gross! They got what was coming to them! This is the 'racists deserve to die' show, after all.
And Ed uses this violence as a tool for love, to get him back to his boyfriend, to give them a triumphic reunion. I don't think it's a coincidence that this is when Ed tells Stede he loves him, either - he's come one step closer to accepting he's worthy of love, he's more ready to acknowledge what they have.
Ed doesn't have to feel bad about killing those officers. The show doesn't ask him to. He gets to retire while still wearing his Blackbeard outfit - Blackbeard gets to retire, not be drowned with a canonball in the ocean. And we're left with Ed, still with a lot of growing to do and a lot of self-discovery left, but he's closer to realizing that he's not a monster and that he's so deserving of love.
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kingdomoftyto · 9 months
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I'm crying laughing, the DVDs are even worse than I remember... Season 1's menus are silent with a single static jpg of the same key character art they use for everything else, and the episodes on the Season 2 discs don't even match what's listed on the box! Absolutely stunning lack of shits given. Truly unparalleled. But I really shouldn't be surprised given... well... everything about how this series has been treated since the very beginning.
Time for a quick ~✨PHANDOM HISTORY LESSON✨~ to give newer/less hyperfixated folks more context for why the graphic novel being as great as it is is such a HUGE deal:
Danny Phantom was one of Nickelodeon's MAIN cartoons, in its time. It was a central pillar. One of the top three or four of their lineup, which is saying something when the competition includes the cultural juggernaut that is Spongebob.
Despite this, and despite its superhero theming making it perfectly marketable, it got basically ZERO official merch.
What little we did get was often ugly and very, very cheap. The dedication at the start of the graphic novel that jokes about collecting the Burger King toys? That's because it was some of the most notable merch the franchise EVER had. (I sadly do not have any of it. There was no BK in my hometown. Here's a pic from the internet, though, to give you an idea.)
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If you think I'm exaggerating about that being the most significant physical merch to come out of the series, consider that the first video game had an entire menu option specifically for the Burger King promotional tie-in:
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That video game, by the way, was one of only two ever based on the show. The first was an adaptation of "The Ultimate Enemy" in the style of a short sidescrolling beat-em-up, and the second was themed around "Urban Jungle" and (as far as I can tell--I've only played the first couple levels) was an arcade-style scrolling shooter. Both were for the Gameboy Advance, and both are...... fine, as far as cash-grabby video game tie-ins to kids' shows go. This was pretty normal for the time, so I suppose we did okay in that department, actually. They're not GOOD, but they're playable and have at least a bit of effort put into them.
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But besides those two video games (plus a handful of simple, long-defunct Flash games on nick.com)? In the decade and a half since the show ended?
Nothing.
No books, no games, no comics, no web shorts--unless you count mega-crossovers with every other Nicktoon (a la Nicktoons Unite), or soulless promotional material like "Fairly Odd Phantom" (which, trust me, despite being the first new DP animation in over 10 years was not even worth the effort of watching).
...I think there was a limited edition FunkoPop once?
So yeah.
A Glitch in Time is not just the first cool, well-made thing we've seen from the franchise in a while. It's the first THING we've seen since the show. PERIOD. And arguably the first worthwhile supplementary material to EVER come out of the show, depending on how you feel about those GBA games and the Nicktoons crossovers.
This franchise is widely beloved even now, almost 20 years after it first aired, and it feels like that fact is now, finally, FINALLY getting some official recognition.
PLEASE read A Glitch in Time. Tell other people about it. The series--no, the fans--deserve this (and more of this, if the folks in charge see enough of a response and decide to grace us with any followup). It's LONG overdue, but better late than never.
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final-script · 8 months
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Take It Or Leave It… |LN4
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Pairing: Lando Norris x  Leclerc!Reader
Sumary: Where you love your brothers but…
Warnings: English is not my first language !!!There are probably many mistakes (I will correct them later)
Gif: sebxvettel
------------------------------
In her final moments, Hervé made them promise her older children that you would take care of their younger sister.
He made them promise that they would not let anything happen to her and that they would always be for her.
And wow they did… They treated you like a princess.
You could say you couldn't complain about anything… except for one thing.
Since you have use of reason and since you started having some "dates" you had begun to "hate" your brothers, there was no date that they did not ruin.
You had talked to your mom about it and she said that they were just trying to protect you, that they don't misunderstand you, you understood them and you were more than grateful to them.
But… You wanted to be able to experience the power you were with someone, however with your brothers, it was becoming impossible, they scared every boy you were with.
And to be honest, that was beginning to arouse you, to such an extent that you began to hide things from them.
Only your mother and Enzo, (which we can say that despite being the oldest, he was the least overprotective of the 3), were the ones who knew some things.
At the end of the 2022 season you had started to meet with Lando, he treated you wonderfully, enjoying every moment with him.
Very afraid to start something at first, but eager too.
I understood from the beginning that you want to keep the relationship private, unless you were sure that theirs was solid enough.
(…)
The moment they talked and decided to start telling it, the first to know were, their parents and your mother.
Perosas who respected their decision, but who recommended that at some point they should tell your brothers.
(…)
L- do you think you can go to Silverstone?
Y/N- of course, I will be like in every race.
L- with me. I leave myself speechless - it is my home race and in addition to my family, I would like to have you by my side, it's okay if you don't want to, I'll understand.
You could see a look of discouragement on his face.
Y/N- go with you, I was only surprised that you chose your home race to want to tell everything, I thought you wanted a little tranquility in the midst of all the chaos and considering that it will also be official in front of my brothers, even more.
L- chaos is something I am used to, I can handle it, on your brothers, at some point they will have to know, I do not care what is now, If that means I can have you with me, at least for a career, but like I said, I understand if you don't want to, I've respected your decision forever and will continue to do so, if you want to.
Y/N- who I did to deserve you. I cradle his face in my hands. - I agree with what you say, at some point they will have to find out, you have always respected me and if you want to tell everyone now, okay, I can also get probecho of this situation, everyone will know that you are mine.
We both laughed and kissed.
L- I will talk to the team and let you know that we will be one more this time.
Y/N- and I must warn mom not to come with her. L- and your brothers?
Y/N- when we get together, you will have your own answers.
L-hope to survive.
(…)
I'd be lying if I said I wasn't nervous, talking about making everything public was one thing, but doing it was something else.
As we got closer to the circuit, everything began to become real.
My head generated all kinds of scenarios.
But one that I was sure of and boy had I been thinking about it, for nothing in the world was going to let my brothers get into my relationship.
I loved being protected, but it's time they let me live.
I came back to reality when the car stopped.
L- are you ready?    I hold my hand before I get out of the car.
Y/N- list.          A short kiss before he came down to open the door for me like an English gentleman. 
As expected, many cameras turned to see us, so he took my hand tightly and together with his coach we entered the Paddock.
Inside, surprised looks and gestures were not lacking.
You had managed to calm down a little thanks to the grip of your boyfriend, but again the tension returned when in the distance and as if it were a joke, your 3 brothers were facing each other.
Y/N- I think now I should ask, are you ready?
L- I would be lying if I said yes, but... There is no turning back.
We were at the entrance of the hospitality of Maclaren and a few mentros was that of Ferrari, so as they had already seen us, we would simply wait for them to approach.
Finally they did, but before they spoke I stopped them. 
Y/N- before they start acting like they always do, stop, I'm not going to let them mess this time, not anymore, I understand that they want to protect me, but it's time for them to let me live, don't misunderstand me, I love them, but already vast.
Lando's arm encircled my waist in a supportive manner. 
Y/N- so... It's their decision, I take it or leave it, but I'm not going to part with it.   
Judging by his expressions, my words were not expected.
A- Since when?
CH- Lando and your…
Y/N- Enzo?      He was always the one who had something to say, but strangely he was completely silent.
E- I think I speak for all three, Where you hurt our sister, you are in serious trouble.
Lando released the air that had been contained and took the floor.
L- believe me, it's not in my plans.
Ch- since when?.   He seemed to have recovered from shock.
Y/N - at the end of last season.
A- maman, you know?
 L- she and my parents were the first to know.
CH- I think we can't say much more than what Enzo said, you'll damage our sister and most likely you'll get a slight touch on one of your wheels.       I opened my eyes greatly.
Y/N- CHARLES!!
CH- which?!?!, I'm just saying.
Y/N- no one will touch anyone.
Everything went better than I thought and I was grateful for that.
Although she was sure that they would not remain silent and corner Lando as soon as they had the chance.
-----------------------
ANOTHERS
The Best Kept Secret - Arthur Leclerc X Reader
Grateful, Excited and Expectant - Lando Norris X Reader
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astonmartinii · 1 year
Text
love languages | charles leclerc instagram au
pairing: charles leclerc x reader
charles and y/n show off their love languages, gift giving and words of affirmation.
charles_leclerc
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liked by yourusername, scuderiaferrari and 661,083 others
charles_leclerc: sometimes facilitating your girlfriend's hyperfixations works out
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yourusername it's defo better than the cupboard full of yarn from when i wanted to start crochet
charles_leclerc you're a much better dj than crocheter (sp?)
landonorris you're coming for my brand
yourusername hush child i've been playing guitar hero since before you were born
landonorris you're two years older than me?
yourusername i was a cool fucking kid
danielricciardo so all i'm hearing is flat party
yourusername if you bring the alcohol i'm down
charles_leclerc it's literally my flat?
user223 they're my parents omg
yourusername
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liked by charles_leclerc, pierregasly and 40,133 others
yourusername: who said boys don't like flowers?
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charles_leclerc i love anything from you <3
user521 the way they just use their instagrams to flex their relationship
user762 like we get it you're happy LEAVE US ALONE
landonorris you posted your rizz on instagram ???
yourusername it's called a love letter loser
landonorris cringe
yourusername just say you're lonely and bounce
charles_leclerc you guys good?
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charles_leclerc posted to their story
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[caption: learnt how to bake because there's no good cinnamon rolls in monaco for y/n]
carlossainz55
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[caption: ever want to feel lonely? sit with charles when he's on the phone to y/n}
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charles_leclerc
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liked by yourusername, pierregasly and 773,087 others
charles_leclerc: happy birthday to the love of my life, you've changed my life more than you can know. with only a few races left this season, we can celebrate properly soon xx
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yourusername i love you so much charles, virginia woof and i shall be cheering for you all the way til the end xx
user12 god when is it my turn
user44 i beg she gets to give a radio message if charles wins in abu dhabi
user77 OMG PLEASE I NEED IT
scuderiaferrari happy birthday y/n!!! looking forward to seeing you in abu dhabi
user404 it's happening ITS HAPPENING
yourusername added to their story
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[caption: nowhere i'd rather be, believe always]
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charles_leclerc
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liked by yourusername, scuderiaferrari and 1,076,223 others
charles_leclerc: what i'm feeling right now can't be put into words. we've been working for this my whole life, sacrificing so much and losing so many people. i can't say it doesn't hurt not having them here to see it, but i know they're proud. to the tifosi, i am beyond happy to bring the championship back to maranello and take ferrari back to where they belong. y/n has always said my love language is gift giving so consider this my gift back to you for all the support you've shown me over the years. and finally to y/n, you're not only my escape from racing at home but also my focus on the road. i take your letters to every race and will always think of you when i cross that line, i love you and this championship is just as much yours as it is mine. forza ferrari
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pierregasly congrats calmar!! everyone is so proud of you
yourusername this is yours charles, and yours alone. you've worked for it, you deserve it. i'm so proud and honoured to even be a part of your journey. i love you.
charles_leclerc i hope you're ready for three months of nothing but me
yourusername i can't wait
scuderiaferrari CONGRATS CHARLES FORZA FERRARI
user16 omg he actually did it !!!! congrats charles
user689 her radio message, they're really in love man
yourusername
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liked by charles_leclerc, daniel ricciardo and 70,458 others
yourusername: thank god i got my nails done. no joke i love you so much charles, i can't wait to write you letters for the rest of my life.
view all 17,842 comments
charles_leclerc i'm glad i booked the right nail salon. no jokes i can't wait to buy you random shit for the rest of my life.
user44 OMG HE DID IT
pierregasly congrats!!! bagsy best man
carlossainz55 that'll be me actually
arthur_leclerc it's me actually
yourusername you know he already asked seb right?
user88 so do we think he planned to wait until he won the championship to propose or?
charles_leclerc i did want to wait, but i was proposing this year no matter what, needed her to be mrs. leclerc as soon as possible
user88 AHHHHHHHHHHHHH
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antianakin · 2 months
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I think I'm able to perhaps put a few words to why I really dislike that the Ahsoka show had her choose to come to the conclusion that Anakin was GOOD, that he was a good person and good teacher to her, rather than having her refuse to forgive him and just having to let go of him entirely.
Ahsoka is a character who has been, for her ENTIRE RUN on Star Wars, defined by Anakin and her relationship to him. She's never been able to escape that. She was created as an explanation for why Anakin "matured" over the three year gap between AOTC and ROTS, but her lack of existence in the films means she can have no greater impact on Anakin than that. She is wholly irrelevant to his character but she does not EXIST without him. In Rebels, she is only in one season where all of her appearances are fixated on her discovery of Anakin's betrayal and how that impacts her, leading up to their final confrontation where she appears to die fighting him. She comes back only so her relationship with Anakin can be used to help Ezra let go of Kanan. In TOTJ, she has an entire episode dedicated to explaining that the only reason she survived Order 66 was because of some kind of special training Anakin gave her that made her stronger, better, faster than any other Jedi. In The Mandalorian, her appearance was full of subtext about her trauma regarding Anakin and the way she reacts to other Jedi as a result of that. In The Book of Boba Fett appearance, that subtext is still there, primarily in her conversation with Luke where she even tells him how much he reminds her of Anakin. Which leaves us with the Ahsoka show itself and how it REVOLVES around that relationship, from Sabine being turned into Anakin 2.0 to everything in episode 5 to Ahsoka claiming she'll support Sabine in everything because this is what Anakin did for her to Anakin literally showing up in ghost form to Thrawn predicting everything Ahsoka will do because he has some familiarity with Anakin.
Ahsoka CANNOT escape this relationship, she cannot move out from this particular shadow and become her own person because her character seems to ONLY EXIST to be "Anakin's student." She can almost literally not stand on her own at this point. If her story doesn't revolve around Anakin in some way, it doesn't seem to really exist (please keep in mind here that I am mostly looking at HIGH CANON appearances for this because that's what I am familiar with; I'm sure that some comics have probably managed to move away from her relationship to Anakin a little bit sometimes but I haven't read any of them so they're not being counted in this analysis, especially since I don't think they're really impacting her higher canon characterization anyway).
It's even just visible in how other characters perceive her. She is constantly being COMPARED to Anakin, we keep hearing how like Anakin she is. The only time I can think of that she is compared to anyone OTHER than Anakin is when Trace and Rafa tell her that she acts like a Jedi even if she isn't currently calling herself one (bless their SOULS for this moment, they deserved so much better than the hate they got and one single appearance on fucking TBB). We never hear anyone say she reminds them of Obi-Wan, or Yoda, or Plo Koon. It's ALWAYS Anakin even though she's known Yoda and Plo Koon longer and she seems to spend almost as much time with Obi-Wan as she does Anakin.
By having Ahsoka decide to deal with her feelings about Anakin by just... setting aside all the bad shit he did and focusing ONLY on the good moments that he had and letting that define him, it makes it nearly impossible to separate her from him. If he's good, then it's a GOOD thing to compare her to him. If he's good, then his influence on her HAS to have been a good one. For me, it ruins ANY nuance that could have come from going the opposite direction and recognizing that while he had some good moments, he was in fact an overall bad person who was a terrible teacher to her. He betrayed her, he tried to kill her (and only failed because she was saved by someone else), he abandoned her. I don't care WHAT he did before this, this automatically makes him a BAD TEACHER.
And recognizing that Anakin was a bad teacher would force Ahsoka to look at HERSELF more critically, too, to recognize the places where she has made the same mistakes perhaps, where she's started leading herself down a similar path to his, and then choosing to NOT BE LIKE HIM. Anakin should be (like he is with Luke) the personification of her own darkness. Palpatine represented Anakin's greatest demons and personifications, Anakin can represent something similar for Ahsoka. He is an indisputable part of her now, but she doesn't HAVE to become him, she doesn't have to let that CONTROL her. And by making that choice, she frees herself from being defined by him for the rest of her life.
But now, the narrative has bound Ahsoka to Anakin forever. She'll never be anything more than Anakin's student because this has become what defines her as a person and a character. And it just... it sucks. Ahsoka deserved better than that.
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takeme-totheworld · 3 months
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This fandom: "The Metatron's compliments to Aziraphale are so laughable, he's not a leader, that's ridiculous"
Aziraphale: -shuts up an entire room full of shouting archangels and high-level demons, then creates space for Gabriel and Beelzebub to assert their wishes and take control of their own lives, all while everyone else stands there sputtering-
Look, I'm still on team "Aziraphale was manipulated in the final fifteen and is putting far more faith in Heaven's ability to change for the better than is deserved," but like...look what he already accomplished this season just by being extremely stubborn about following his own moral compass and protecting Jimbriel. Because arguably Gabriel and Beelzebub fucking off together at the end is the first step toward the inevitable crumbling of the system (followed by revolution, probably) that we know is going to have to happen in S3.
Were his methods often questionable? Do his actions this season suggest he still has Things to Learn about Heaven and humanity and free will? Sure. But I think he's shown that (1) his heart is in the right place, and (2) he absolutely is capable of being a leader.
I don't think the ship can be righted in Heaven the way he thinks it can—particularly because we all know the Metatron is going to be breathing down his neck constantly—but I do think he's going to influence the other angels in ways he maybe doesn't even realize, just by being himself. So like...maybe we shouldn't be so quick to sneer at the Metatron calling him a leader? Obviously he isn't making any of those comments in good faith, but that doesn't mean they aren't true. Or at least, that they don't have the potential to be true.
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ynbabe · 2 months
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Party all night- Lance Stroll x Partygirl! Reader
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Am I perhaps obsessed with this vibe? Yes, will I maybe turn this into a series for all the drivers? idk yall tell me 🫣
as always comments and requests are always welcome!!
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People don't always like Lance but they definitely don't like his party girl girlfriend.
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f1behindts
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liked by 21,023 users
f1behindts Lance Stroll was seen with his girlfriend in the clubs of London before the start of the 2024 season
view all 11004 comments
username She’s so prettyyyyyy
username right??? How’d mans pull that???
Username she’s only with him for his money I mean why else?
Username IS HE SMOKING
Username why is he in f1 again? Obviously he doesn’t care about putting the hours in and now he’s smoking? Like give the seat to a driver that deserves it rather than daddy’s boy over here
Babeitsy/nl/n
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babeitsy/nl/n london how you have my heart ❤️
yourbsf1 Why'd we let you choose the club??
babeitsy/nl/n cause i know the best spots 🤭 yourbsf2 you literally ran off with ur bf 5 sec in yourbsf3 exactly BOOOO lancestroll sorry guys but she loves me more 🤷‍♂️
username bro how is he with someone like her...
username shes literally making him smoke doesn't she know how bad that is for F1 drivers?
babeitsy/nl/n girl he had a lollipop in his mouth 😭 I love my vroom vroom man very much yourbsf1 idk why yall think we can make this man do shit. he's soooo stubborn
lancestroll ❤️
babeitsy/nl/n miss you alr mwuah
babeitsy/nl/n
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babeitsy/nl/n me and @/yourbsf1 with @/fernandoalofficial
babeitsy/nl/n finally met the man the myth the legend, thanks babe!!
lancestroll could not get her to stop giggling, this old man stole my girlfriend fernandoalofficial it was good to meet you, your a lucky man lancito
yourbsf1 came in uniform for this moment 🫡
username why is she sticking to him?? lance break up with her man, shes a 304
username girl he's not gonna pick you, why dont you let that girl live
username the fact that Lance thinks that his girlfriend would leave him for alonso says a lot about her ewwww
lancestroll
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lancestroll to the best girlfriend, I'll love you even when you drag me to clubs at 3 at night and your friends keep stealing my coffee. I don't care what others say you're the love of my life.
babeitsy/nl/n aww baby i love you 🥹
lancestroll love you too babe
yourbsf2 the call-out was unnecessary but I'll allow it cause this is sweet
username he really said fuck yall i love my girl
username the way y'all were dogging on her, now what??
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hope yall liked this!! requests are always open!!
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todoroki-waifu · 9 months
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Can i request a story about the reader being in another school that is a rival of easton even though reader and rayne are a couple? Thanks💞 (im sorry if this is a weird idea i just thought it up in my head😅)
Note: Thank you for this! And it's not weird at all! It was a cute idea. Not sure how I feel about how I wrote this, but I hope you still like it. Also, Luke is a random character I made up.
Rayne x Reader
Warning:��Female reader, cursing, and a guy hitting on/bothering the reader to be his.
Genre: Fluff
Word Count:828
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Your excitement was increasing with every step as you approached Easton Academy. Your dorm mate is beside you, talking about today's event. There was a duelo match at Easton and your school was playing against them. Schoolwork had kept you and Rayne from physically seeing each other, but you still found ways to communicate. 
You and Rayne have been together for a little over a year now, but only a select few knew this. You both weren't ashamed of your relationship, but you agreed it was best to not announce it so loudly. You couldn't deal with people digging deep into your personal business and you knew it'd only fuel rumors and gossip since your boyfriend was from Easton. Despite your schools having history with each other, it didn't stop the two of you from falling for each other. 
"I have a feeling the match is gonna go into overtime." You hear your roommate as you search for your boyfriend. You planned on sitting beside each other to watch the game. 
"Yeah? You think?"
"I'm pretty sure! Both teams are at the top this season." 
"You're not wrong there." It didn't matter to you who won, you were more focused on being able to hug Rayne again. A voice shouts your name and your eyes target its source. You groan at the approaching male with his friends not too far behind, your roommate cursing at his presence. 
"Hey there, ___(y/n)! You ready to cheer me on?"
"Hey, Luke..." You forced out a polite smile. 
"We gotta go and grab some seats. Bye!" __(r/n) links her arm with yours, attempting to pull you away from Luke and his team. 
"Oh c'mon, stop cockblocking. I wanna talk to my girlfriend." Luke interferes with your escape route. 
"Don't call me that. I already told you that I have a boyfriend." You glare, your patience thinning rapidly the more you are around the duelo captain. 
"Yeah, yeah, yeah. You're just playing hard to get." He slips between you and __(r/n), draping his arm over your shoulders. You immediately create distance between the two of you, your eyebrows knitting together. 
"No, I'm not. Just like how I've told you many, many times before, I'm happily taken."
"That's just a lie." Luke steps closer to you once again. "You're always saying that."
"And I'm going to keep saying it." You were praying that someone would just date this idiot so he'd finally leave you alone. But all the other girls knew better. 
"It's just that I've never seen or heard about him before." You feel your hand being taken in his and lures you close to his body. "If you really have a boyfriend, then where is he?"
"Right here." Fingers grip tightly on Luke's wrist, granting you freedom. You automatically knew who it was because only one voice made your heart jump. You whisper his name, your blonde and black haired boyfriend now blocking Luke's view from you. Scum like him didn't deserve to lay eyes on his girlfriend. 
"Hey man, let go!" Luke's shout attracts a large audience from both academies. “Who the hell are you?” 
"I’m ___(y/n)’s boyfriend.” 
“What? Yeah right! I’ve never seen you two together!”
“It is none of your concern whether you have seen us together or not. If she has told you that she was already dating someone, you should have ceased your annoying advances from the beginning.” 
It was almost as if Ranye’s golden orbs were eerily glowing the longer he held his gaze at the duelo captain. 
“Che, whatever! I ain't wasting any more time with you. I got a match to win.” Luke pulls his hand back, trying to rub the pain away without seeming affected by the Sword Cane’s strength. Rayne ignores his comment, for now, and tends to you immediately.
"Are you alright?" He inspects for any physical injuries and distress in your eyes.
"Yes, I'm fine. Thank you." Rayne gently rests his hand on your cheek, rubbing the soft skin under his thumb. You smile into his touch, leaning into it. His lips slightly tug downard at the thought of you having gone through that boy's pestering for quite some time. Rayne heard you complain about your multiple rejections. He couldn't blame you since you respected the promise you both made in regards to hiding each other's identity. Also, knowing you, you didn't want to worry the magic blade user. 
Well, he couldn't allow that to continue. He breathes out your name, his other hand claiming your free cheek. 
"I think it's time to let everyone know our little secret." Rayne lays his lips over yours delicately, ignoring the various noises from the onlookers. You couldn't help but melt into his kiss, pressing yourself a bit closer to him. It felt so liberating and exciting now that you both can show each other off. He wanted it to be clear who exactly your mystery boyfriend was. 
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ciaonicole85 · 13 days
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Waiting on my AO3 invite. Here's a one shot Sydcarmy story. Canon compliant. Post season 2. Please excuse the grammar/spelling mistakes. I need season 3 to get here quickly!
Title: Won't You Be My Neighbor
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It was her break and for the 89th time in the last three days Sydney reassessed the apartments within 15 minutes walking distance from The Bear. As CDC she no longer wanted to depend on the train should there be some kind of accident, strike, or weather event. There were three that she could afford on her own and many more options if she were willing to become a roommate. She wasn't. If inspiration for a recipe struck her at 2am she wanted to get up and cook if she wanted. She loved the freedom of walking around naked after a shower, picking out her clothes or getting a snack. Most of all she missed turning up her music and dancing like an inflatable tube man in private.
She had sent a message to each leasing office to schedule an appointment next Monday and two of the three had confirmed a 10a and 11a showing. It had been more than 48 hours since she messaged the third so she called. The leasing agent informed her that the specific unit she wanted was no longer available, but they had a gorgeous 2 bedroom for $3800 a month if she was interested. "Okay, now that's just two options" Sydney muttered after getting off the phone.
"Hey mija, what you looking at?" Tina asked sitting down to eat lunch.
"Just apartments. I finally have the funds to move" Sydney answered with a sigh.
"What's wrong? Aren't you happy to be getting out on your own?"
"Oh, yeah for sure. It's just I'm really picky"
"Well, it doesn't have to be forever. Just make sure to read the reviews. You don't want roaches or bed bugs".
"Oh, I can't stand bugs! My dad still has to kill them for me, but I better get a fly swatter and spray now that I'll be on my own soon."
Break was over and Sydney stood up to resume her duties. First she needed to talk to Natalie about the upcoming private party. A celebrity had reserved the entire restaurant next Thursday evening. The names of all staff members on duty that night had to be submitted ahead of time with signed NDAs. It was all happening so fast and The Bear's debt was likely to be paid less than a year after opening. First there had been a Grio article about her being a rising black chef. That led to Keith Lee, the TikTok restaurant reviewer, raving about his to-go order that included the T-Bone and the Michael cannoli. It went viral and suddenly, they were booked for the next three months with a waiting list. She was working harder than ever, getting paid pretty well, and she deserved a place of her own.
After talking to Natalie, she found Carmy working on her prep.
"Hey, thanks! I can take over that now if you want"
"Actually….it's done. I wanted to take you somewhere for like 30 minutes" he said finishing up and cleaning the station.
Sydney folded her arms, her eyebrows raised high.
"Okay, where are we going?"
"I know you've been looking for a place and I think know the perfect apartment for you. Just a 10 minute walk from here. The landlord gave me the key so I could show you today" Carmy said trying to sound casual, but a deep pink flush rose in his cheeks.
"Why is he being weird?" Sydney thought but simply said "Okay, that's dope."
The Chicago air was soft and warm, the clean sunlight making everything look new. Summer afternoons like this made you forgive the brutal winters here. Carmy directed Sydney when to turn left and right, but refused to tell her where exactly they were going. Soon they were standing in front of his building.
The reason for his weirdness was now perfectly clear to Sydney and she felt so flattered that she had to avoid looking at Carmy when she said "So, there's an open unit in your building?"
"Uh, yeah. The people who lived just above me moved and I, uh, thought you might want to see it".
The apartment was on the fourth floor. Carmy unlocked the door and let Sydney go in first. The walls were freshly painted in "Cloud White" and the oak hardwood floors creaked comfortably under their feet. The layout was the same as Carmy's apartment with plenty of windows to let in natural light and a shockingly large kitchen for a 1 bedroom place in Chicago. As Sydney inspected the appliances and bathroom, she decided that if the rent was going to eat up even half of her check it was worth it. She had always admired Carmy's spacious apartment and with her sense of style she could make hers, a cozy bohemian oasis filled with plants, wall art, and actual furniture (eventually).
Carmy had let her roam around in silence for a few minutes, muttering and emitting tiny sounds of joy to herself. When she met him in the living room again, he said trying not to grin too widely, "If you like it, it's already yours."
"How? I know places like this are snatched up fast" Sydney said her eyes finally able to meet his again.
"The landlords, they're a couple, and their 20th wedding anniversary is coming up. They want reservations at The Bear." Carmy explained, desperately hoping to sound nonchalant about it.
"Oh, that's nice work, Carmy."
Then Sydney squealed and cried "This is just what I wanted!!" and she flung her arms around his shoulders in a wild hug. Carmy commanded his body not to shudder as he hugged her back. She was just wearing a t-shirt and without her usual layers of clothing he felt her delicate frame, her slim shoulder blades imprinting on his fingers.
In a moment Sydney pulled back shly and let her arms fall to her sides, her face burning. She made a mental note: Hugging Carmy. Not a safe activity for those who want to cook along side him using sharp objects or sleep peacefully at night dreaming innocent thoughts.
"Thank you. Thank you. Thank you!" Sydney said taking another step back and making another turn around the room.
Carmy nodded and concentrated on not melting into the floorboards.
"You're okay with this? We already spend 60+ hours together at the restaurant every week and now I'd be in your building! And literally living on top of you."
"Yeah, well, I want you to. You deserve everything you want, Syd."
"Then I'll take it! Just a warning though. If you hear someone belting out Kpop and an occasional thud, that's just my weekly one woman concert, which will be over no later than 10pm. I'm not being murdered."
Carm was no longer unable to contain the width of his smile. This girl is so cute, his body physically ached. How would he get through service tonight?
With a happy shake of his head, he replied, "Thank you, for the heads up!"
With that Sydney marched towards the door and exclaimed "Take me to your landlord!"
Carmy floated behind her.
Cue: Maxwell's "Whenever, Wherever, Whatever"
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