#so is it just supposed to implied that he faked his faith for years so his wife didn’t leave him and take the kids? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

babygirldennis · 3 years

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This shit is fake bby!!!

Here she is.. My masterpost of all the dumb, illogical bits of info contained within these s15 “leaks” that make me fairly confident they are complete bullshit. It also includes my little tinhat theories that have absolutely no evidence.

I will be putting it all under a Readmore in case you don't want to risk it or if you simply Do Not Care

First up, I'd like to point out that these call sheets repeatedly give very detailed backstories to characters that have few lines which conveniently paints a picture of each episode's plot. And I'm not an expert so correct me if I'm wrong, but after looking at other similar casting calls, they only ever include the demographic and necessary skills.

Basically who in their right mind would write up casting calls that give away so many spoilers? Seems like that could cause and issue if they were leaked lol. But anyway that's my 1st point. But onto the actual content

So the conceit of this episode as a whole is that during the pandemic, the gang "gamed the system" and received three (3!) Loans to start businesses that went bankrupt. One of these businesses is implied to be the one started by dee and charlie who end up selling to Qanon shaman. Already this is so impossible baby.

1. We've already seen the gang try to get a loan and it didn't work. They don't have good ideas. Ur telling me, they managed to finagle 3 separate loans for 3 separate business ideas from an actual bank?

2. Maybe I just have bad reading comprehension but how does one have a business that is both fictitious and bankrupt?

3. If the customer is supposed to be Qanon shaman, an actual real life guy, why are the only descriptors white and male? They say he's shirtless so are they going to paint on all of the tattoos he has? And if so, doesn't that kind of ruin the dramatic reveal when charlie "throws in" the viking helmet? Why would he do that anyways? Sus.

Moving on

Alright this episode would fucking blow for obvious reasons but im going to refrain from looking at this through my gay dennis thruther lens because im biased.

Purely from a narrative standpoint, a woman hasn't been shown to be interested in dennis in nearly 5 years during the wade boggs episode. Ever since, every single woman he approaches has been actively creeped out by him. And now I'm supposed to believe that 3 "smart, passionate woman" (In Their Twenties!!!!!!) agreed to go on a date with him? And Anna even slept with him! Just because he what? Agreed with her? I'm not buyin it.

Plus the concept of this scenario lacks any potential for comedy. When iasip gets political, they always discuss a very specific topic using hyperbolic situations and flawed metaphors. If this is supposed to be a political episode, what ultimately lukewarm point would rob be trying to make here? So far we know they're ranting about

The patriarchy

Privilege

Socialism

No more personal responsibility(?)

The... nature of power in society(??)

How on earth would an episode like get approved? This shit sounds like a Ted talk. It sounds like it was written specifically to sound like a political episode so boring and pointless it would generate outrage and mile long essay posts from Tumblr users and reddit users alike. Almost like this one lol.

On a completely unrelated note, do not try and convince me that Frank "casual cock ring wearer" Reynolds is unable to perform.

Jeez this is getting out of hand fast. Let's move on

Ok now we're starting to getting into the Ireland of it all. Let me go on a bit of a tangent here about all this.. Now I thinq there are just 3 possibilities. Either this is all a publicity stunt and there is some truth to the Ireland rumors, the entire thing could be bogus from some weirdo fan (ps, if a fan did write this I want you to know I fucking hate you. You did this to me), or it is a publicity stunt but Ireland is just more bullshit.

I am going to assume it was a publicity stunt, otherwise I just wasted my entire evening and I can't have that kind of mentality rn. Additionally, I'm Going to tinhat here for a second and say that the Ireland rumors are true, but the details are different.

I say this because if they were going to do filming in Ireland, they probably figured that that information would be impossible to hide. In essence, my completely unfounded hypothesis is that this leak was their fucked up little way of controlling the situation while simultaneously messing with us.

Ok tangent is over, returning to the casting calls. From the looks of it, dee starts a "scam" acting class and has some very devoted students (Note that Tony was also the name of the porn shop owner. Seems weird!) Presumably after the gang replaces her with a monkey as the title suggests.

Honestly, there isn't too much here that's a red flag to me... seems like a nice little dee-centric episode that is the link to the Dublin angle. Assuming I am At All right, this could be a genuine plotline for Dee. However, the monkey could be a red herring and there could be a whole different side plot with the guys. who's to say. Next one!

Ah yes this is the dennis we all know and despise.. no red flags for me here really, I'm also running out of steam because idk if it shows, but I am majorly sleep deprived atm. Anyway I'm going to the next one

Okay this is where things start getting weird again ough a migraine just hit, anyway back to my earlier point about how casting calls would never contains major spoilers bc the people who see these wont be under any kind of NDA..

These ones reveal that bonnie dies. Again, that info wouldn't be in a casting call.

But also they suggest charlie has a irish penpal named Shelley who is his biological father. First off charlie is illiterate, although as pointed out by @undeadbreeze shelley could also be communicating in symbols. However, this scenario is still unbelievable to me for a couple reasons:

1. Bonnie's last name is Kelly obviously, and we know it's her maiden name because Jack's last name is also Kelly. But Shelley's last name is... also Kelly? In the context of this big ol hoax, it feels like it was written to show that look! his last name is the same as charlie's! That's how you know that's his dad! But It would be way too big of a coincidence if charlie's dad happened to have the same last name bonnie.

And 2. There's the whole mystery of charlie's long-lost sister from 'charlie got molested' but never any mention of a brother which according to this, shelley has been pretending to be his brother for years. And we all know how much rcg loves their continuity, it seems uncharacteristically lazy to just tack this on without any prior buildup.

And finally let me talk about mac for a second and specifically the line in gus's summary "both are gay men who are attracted to the priesthood for all the wrong reasons"

Iasip has commented on pedophilia in the priesthood many times in the past which leads me to believe that they are implying that mac is a pedophile? Please let me know if I completely misread the implications of that statement, but if not, then that is completely insane and one of the biggest indictators that this is fake. Mac is awful, just like everyone in the gang but he is definitely not a pedophile.

However even if i did completely misread that, it's still proof this is fake.. For all his faults, Rob put a surprising amount of care and effort into mac's coming-out. It hasn't been perfect, but Mfhp in particular firmly established that mac's faith is integral to his identity so Its unlikely that rob would throw all of that away for a cheap shot at priests.

Ok my brain is irradiated sludge at this point, but in conclusion. I hope that 1. I'm right, at least about it being fake (Otherwise damb that'll be so humiliating for me) And 2. This eases ur fears a bit. I don't want to lose all faith in future seasons bc I love iasip and miss the gang. If you read this far youre insane but I literally love you so goddamn much because I spent so so long tapping this out on my silly little phone

Please feel free to add on or message me your thoughts and opinions I need to know I'm not the only one who uhhh went a bit insane. And finally: whoever made these is a cunt. Mwah.

#iasip #s15 spoilers #oy vey.....#they could also be written by a reddit fan who is too much of a pussy to just write fanfic but that seems kinda unlikely?#cause 1. itll be disproven so everyone will know u just... wrote weird fanfic #and 2. there are a lot of little details that are so random that even if this is a fan just messing with people.... why put in so much effo #wahtever im pressing post #actually tho what gge fuck is that priest line supposed to imply #i guess for mac it could be talking about his view that god smites enemies and u must fear him blah blah #i jus don't know what it was supposed to imply about gus!!!#bc they describe gus like he is fat mac with healthy views on the bible which :]#then that last line just gives me whiplash what does that mean!!

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panlight · 3 years

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What are the top three ways that the story breaks belief by giving Bella whatever she/Meyer wants? What are the top three ways that the story does great at showing the realities of vampirism?

1. The baby. Yes, I know, SM technically didn’t address a male vampire and female human and whether they could have a child or not, but all her comments pre-BD heavily, heavily implied that vampires couldn’t have children, to the degree that the whole fandom believed this and would comment on fic where they had kids as being unrealistic. She also wrote Bella as not liking/wanting kids, easily giving it up when Rosalie warned her, being dismissive of Esme and Rosalie’s longing (”they get by just fine”) and then . . . gives her a kid and she’s instantly on board and fulfilled being a mom at 19 (although Edward is still her priority in a lot of ways). Also SM’s justification for Edward being able to conceive is an entry on a 1990s vampire website on Angelfire about the incubus which isn’t even really a vampire and if you look into that mythology the incubus’ children aren’t his biologically but that’s a whole other point. It just makes no sense to me that one half of the species is 100% infertile full-stop but the other half retains the ability to conceive children but ONLY with the species they are supposed to eat. What kind of biology is that, that’s so weird. It all feels so contrived just so E/B *specifically* can have a kid and honestly they would have been fine without one, it wasn’t THEIR great desire, it was Rosalie’s and Esme’s.

2. Letting Charlie in on it. I know, it would have been sad and awful for her to have to fake her own death or just disappear but that’s what she was signing up for and getting to keep Charlie around with some loophole about not using the word ‘vampire’ does not feel realistic to me. Honestly the whole idea of secrecy is just so inconsistent. We need a convoluted plan to steal multiple cars because omg secrecy! the sun! the cops! but then they can go to a hospital where somewhere knew forever 23-year-old Carlisle 14 years ago and secrecy? What secrecy? We’ll just let him think it’s plastic surgery, whatever. Likewise Charlie. Oh no humans can't know, it’s not safe, we’ll have to leave him in the dark to protect him! And then it’s just like “Charlie conveniently doesn’t want details and as long as we don’t actually use the word ‘vampire’ we aren’t breaking any rules” feels too easy.

3. Pretty much instant self-control. She passes it off as Bella being “prepared” and “braced” for it, but then in Life and Death, Beau is also pretty much instantly in control too and he didn’t have time to prepare at all. And sure, you can come up with reasons, her aversion to blood as a human being a decent one, and by itself it might not have bothered me too much, but because it’s combined with all the other ways Breaking Dawn lets the air out of the balloon after three books of build up about how much Bella will have to give up and what a struggle it will be to be a vampire, it feels too easy. I WANTED the newborn stuff! I was excited for it! I was stoked to get to see first-hand what it was like to go from human to vampire and what kind of adjustments you have to make within yourself, so Bella just being instantly great at it and loving it with zero angst was anticlimactic and boring for me.

But vampirism is pretty terrible for like, virtually anyone else? I mean, pick a backstory! They’re all dark and awful and sad (at BEST bittersweet) and fit perfectly in the vampire genre (could do without the violence against women, though, since she doesn't apply it in the same way to the male characters. Life and Death makes that glaringly clear).

1. Alistair was turned into a vampire after his power-hungry father enlisted the help of a shady vampire who went by Astaroth, Prince of Hell, but was actually some blond dude named George and fed him his wife and daughters in exchange for Alistair to become a vampire and then eventually King (how was THAT supposed to work? Oh well). Then Alistair accidentally kills his father, his horse breaks his neck trying to get away from him, and all his beloved falcons are terrified of him and abandon him.

2. Within the Cullens, you have Carlisle, the son of a monster-hunting pastor who was turned during a vampire raid, knew he could never return to his father like that, tried to destroy himself, and ended up trying to starve himself, as a newborn, in the forest, for months. The angst! The crisis of faith! The horror! This is a compelling vampire story right there! A crime it wasn’t in the movies!

3. Everything about the newborn wars. That’s all terrible and brutal and violent and like, thank you, this is a vampire story, we need that. The idea of creating armies of new vampires, at their strongest and most feral, and then killing them when their power wanes after their first year is so dark and awful. Gaslighting the few mature vampires who remain into believing that it’s the way ALL vampires live so they’re no point in leaving. Just eternal, constant warfare and killing--not only killing humans for sustenance but your own kind. And it bucks the trend of a lot of vampire stories where vampires grow more powerful with age; the idea that NEW vampires are the strongest is actually pretty terrifying, it makes turning anyone into a vampire to join you as a companion or partner a pretty big gamble--can you control them until they Calm Down? Will their instincts overwhelm them and they’ll see you as a threat and destroy you?

You read about these things and you’re like “the same lady who gave Bella a baby, a fairy tale cottage and a sexy brand new car upon her conversion to vampirism came up with THAT?”

#asks

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bunnysuit-femboy · 3 years

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The Worst Wingman - Tiger’s Eye and Gold

(Chapter 2 / 3)

Jean x Reader

Word Count: 5.6k

Previous Chapter

Warnings: Mentions of vomiting, Implied sex

Summary: Jean sucks at picking blind dates for you, but at least he’s trying. After one final attempt at finding love at the hands of Jean, he goes on a double date with you and the newest boy he’s thrown onto you. The boy is everything you never knew you needed, and Jean has to push down his growing feelings at the idea of you being happy without him.

Notes: I am not shitting on polpette di cavallo or the consumption of horse meat in general, I understand that it is a popular Italian dish and I was only mocking my ignorance towards the subject! (Plus, I thought it’d be funny to make a horse joke in a Jean x Reader)

Second Saturday

The night air wasn’t chilly, but you stayed by Jean’s side nonetheless. You pressed against his arm, using his body heat to keep yourself warm. And, Jean didn’t mind the close company - he actually liked it when you got close to him, it was the same reason he cuddled with you so often.

You and Jean stood outside of an unfamiliar restaurant, waiting for the last two people of the party to show up and to inform the hostess of their reservation. You normally hated double dates because the other couple always seemed to have more fun than you. But, you felt safe by Jean’s side, you knew he’d go as far as blatantly ignoring his date if it meant he got to have one conversation with you. Maybe that was selfish to think, but you didn’t mind, you’d probably never use him anyways - only keeping him as plan B in a worst case scenario.

But, you surprisingly had faith. Maybe - just maybe - this date will be your last one in a very long time. Maybe you would fall in love with this football player. Maybe you’d marry him and eventually start a family. Maybe you’d make sure to visit this same restaurant every anniversary - a physical monument of where your love had sprouted.

And then, as the years ticked by in your relationship, maybe you’d find yourselves growing sick of each other. Maybe you’d come home early from work and find him fucking his secretary over his desk in his home office. Maybe you’d stay with him, but only for the kids. Maybe - just maybe - you’d be able to ignore the whole affair just to pretend you love him for a few more years until your eventual death.

Oh God, love was exhausting - even to think about. And, it always seemed to end in pain, no matter how in love the couple seemed to be once upon a time.

It was hard to ignore the facts, and the inevitable ending to all things good. It was hard to ignore the over 50% of people who got divorced each year. And, it was hard to pretend you were more deserving of a lifelong fantastic marriage full of love and laughter just because-

“What are you thinking about?” Jean asked with a giggle.

You looked up at the boy, your eyebrows furrowed, “Huh?”

Jean smiled wide, “You look like you’re going to be sick.” He looked around quickly, taking in the sight of the other couples also waiting for a table inside. “Do you want to leave? We can go back to mine and forget this entire night was supposed to happen.”

“No,” You said quickly, “I want to meet him. You went through so much work to convince him to go on this date, why would I throw that away so easily?”

“Not really.” Jean frowned lightly as he looked past you, clearly reliving memories in his head, “I didn’t really do anything, actually.”

It was true, all Jean had to do was show the football player a picture of you and he was in. Jean had started the conversation by asking the football player’s schedule for the next weekend and if he was free for a date that Saturday. At first, the boy continuously refused any date, saying he needed the day to practice before the next game, but Jean showed the boy a picture instead of arguing with his words.

The football player fell completely silent, staring at Jean’s phone with widened eyes. It was hard to say no to a date with you - to put it simply, you were a goddess. The football player continued to stare at the picture of you, taken last Halloween when you and Jean had dressed as a witch and her black cat familiar; you being the witch and Jean being your cat. It was Jean’s favorite picture of you because you showed your candid smile as you laughed at one of Jean’s jokes, instead of your fake smile you saved for pictures.

The football player quickly agreed to the date after seeing the picture. He gave Jean his number, urging Jean to text him the time and place. He’d be there, the football player promised, he wouldn’t miss it for the world.

“Sure,” You said sarcastically, “I’m sure you had to promise him a month’s supply of-” You took a moment to remember what football players liked other than football- “Steroids.”

“Seriously?” Jean asked with a laugh, “Keep the steroids jokes to a minimum when he shows up, okay?” Jean furrowed his eyebrows. “Actually, don’t mention steroids at all when he gets here.”

You sighed, “If it’s any consolation, I was going to say protein powder.” You turned to Jean, slightly tilting your head. “Can I make protein powder jokes when he’s here?”

Jean frowned at you, “I guess-”

“And,” You added with a grin, “Can I make shoulder pad jokes?”

“I suppose-”

“And, can I make football field jokes? Or, is that too much as well?”

“Okay,” Jean said as he threw an arm around your shoulders, “I see what you’re doing.” Jean shoved your face into his chest which had always been his favorite way to shut you up. You inhaled the familiar scent of his clothes, and the unfamiliar scent of a new cologne he wore specifically for this date. “You’re such a smart ass.”

You pushed your head out from between his chest and arm, “You’re ruining my hair, you bastard!”

Jean laughed as he pulled you closer to him, “It still looks great, don’t worry about it.”

“Hey, Jean,” A new voice said from only a few feet away, “And-”

Jean pushed you from his body, allowing you to extend a single hand in the blonde boy’s direction, “Hi, it’s lovely to meet you.” You told the boy your name before he finally introduced himself.

The boy shook your hand with a strong grasp, “I’m Reiner-”

“And, I’m Pieck,” A black haired girl said as she poked her head out from behind Reiner’s broad back. The girl stood in front of Jean and smiled up at him, “And, I suppose you’re my date. Unless she is-” Pieck glanced at you- “Which I’m more than okay with as well.”

“No,” Jean said quickly, “I am.”

“Awesome,” Pieck said with a smile, “Is there a table being readied for us inside or-”

“I have a reservation,” Reiner said, “The table should’ve been readied about ten minutes ago, when we were supposed to be here - Pieck - if you didn’t take an hour just to pick a dress.”

Pieck smiled wide though her words were drenched in venom, “I thought you said you’d stop mentioning that once we got here, Reiner.” Pieck turned to her friend with a tilt of her head. “Am I correct?”

Reiner’s face dropped as well as his stomach, “Of course, I’m sorry, Pieck.”

“So,” Jean said to fill the new silence that had settled, “You all think we should head inside now?”

“Yes!” Pieck said as she ran to Jean’s side, sliding her arm around his and pulling him off towards the front doors of the restaurant. You couldn’t help but pout at their backs as they walked off, noticing how close they immediately got with each other and even the new smile plastered across Jean’s face.

“And,” A gentle voice said suddenly from your left, “‘You ready to head inside as well?”

You looked at the boy by your side and took in the sight of his arm thrusted in your direction. His arm was thick, as much as a football player’s arm is supposed to be. And - if you looked close enough - you could see where his muscle was bulging beneath the fabric of his button down shirt and where the veins of his arms were protruding from within his skin.

You walked inside the restaurant by Reiner’s side, intertwining your arm with his. He talked briefly with the hostess at the entrance, and then walked with you as the group was led to a large table in the back. The table was sensually dimmed and if you were here with only one person, you were sure you would end the night in their arms - the atmosphere was enough to cause your heart rate to accelerate and butterflies to flutter around in your stomach.

You took the seat across from your date, and Pieck quickly took the seat to your right. The night started slowly, a light stream of conversation amongst the four of you. You talked about the general information of each person; their college major, their hobbies, their living situations, their weekend plans, and anything else someone could think of in the heat of the moment.

The night was going swimmingly, you ordered the white wine and a dish going by the name of polpette di cavallo which you hadn’t given much thought to before ordering. It was a smaller dish than what you were originally expecting, a white porcelain plate with a mysterious brown substance surrounding three meatballs.

You pushed your fork and knife through the slightly charred meat, cutting the balls into consumable pieces. You continued to talk with the group and - more specifically - Reiner. You found out more about the boy you were on the date with, from his personal life to his football career to his plans after college.

He was sweet, he was funny, and he always gave you time to speak - continuously asking you questions about yourself.

But, unfortunately for him, you couldn’t take your eyes off of Jean. He talked with Pieck to your right, and you couldn’t help but listen to every word exchanged between the two. Even going as far as cutting into their conversation a few times and answering a question clearly directed at Jean.

“And then,” You said in response to Pieck’s question, “Jean went back to the party to pick Connie up because he finally realized he left him behind!”

Pieck giggled loudly, “That’s amazing!” She completely turned in her seat, now facing you instead of her date. “Then, what happened?”

You leaned closer to the girl, “Then, he called and begged me to meet him at the party.” You grinned wider. “Because, he didn’t want to leave again after going back.”

Pieck quickly turned back to Jean, “Why didn’t you want to leave? Even after Sasha threw that drink in your face?” Pieck then looked back at you. “And, why did he call you to come to the party as well?”

You furrowed your eyebrows at Pieck, “I’m actually not sure-”

Jean shrugged lightly, “I just- I wanted another beer and I needed somebody to drive me home afterwards.”

You turned your gaze to Jean, your eyes lit with a new fury. That was why he called you that night? For a damn ride, not even for your company? It was always strange to you how Jean could be so casually cruel. He’d speak before thinking and end up breaking a piece of your heart without noticing - and he did it frequently.

“Seriously,” The word was drenched in hurt as you shouted it across the table at Jean, “That’s seriously all you called me for? You just wanted a ride, Kirstein?”

Jean scratched the back of his neck, “I know you don’t really like drinking so I wasn’t worried about you getting drunk-”

“What do you mean I don’t like drinking?” You thrusted your hand towards your half-full glass of white wine. “I drink all of the time, I’m a real maniac.”

Jean smiled, “Oh, you’re crazy-” Jean leaned on the table, coming closer to you- “I mean, you really are a maniac - How can you possibly slowly sip white wine at an Italian restaurant?”

And, as quickly as Jean could upset you and break your heart, he could just as quickly mend your broken parts.

You bit your lip to hide your new smile, “I can go crazy-” You leaned towards Jean as well- “Sometimes, I sip from your beers and then I immediately regret it because it’s gross.”

“Oh,” Jean giggled with the word, “You’re wild.”

It was like time had stopped completely - which seemed to happen a lot when around Jean. You were sure it was because he was too beautiful not to stare at, and Father Time helped you by stopping everything altogether. Or, you thought the effect of time stopping was purely psychological considering how deeply you knew the boy. But, whatever the reason, time stopped nonetheless.

You sat motionless, only looking into Jean’s eyes - a color reminding you of a tiger's eye crystal. And - like a tiger’s eye crystal - Jean seemed to radiate confidence and strength, and gave you an unknown balance to your own being. Jean was your second half, a part of you that you hadn’t known was missing. He was like the second half of an undone puzzle or-

“How’s your-” Reiner said, suddenly breaking the moment between you and Jean- “Your- uh, po- polpette-”

“Polpette di cavallo,” Pieck finished Reiner’s sentence for him.

Reiner nodded briskly, “That.” He smiled wide at you. “How is that?”

“It’s good,” You said as you scanned the plate in front of you, “It’s very thick, I think they used a different part of the cow than what I’m used to.” You glanced at the three faces watching you intently. “Maybe the stomach? I don’t know what part they use for hamburgers, I don’t really like thinking about it.”

Pieck giggled and pushed your shoulder lightly, “You’re kidding, right?”

You widened your eyes at the girl, “Oh, is it not the stomach?” You cleared your throat. “Then, the- the thighs?”

“No, silly,” Pieck said with a smile, “That’s not beef-” Pieck thrusted at the meat still sitting on the plate in front of you- “That’s chavelin.”

You gave Pieck a blank face, “Chave- what?”

“Chavelin.” Pieck tilted her head at you. “You know, horse meat?”

Suddenly, the chavelin was making another entrance, just this time coming back up. You smashed a hand over your mouth as the horse meat mingled with your stomach acid, begging to be back on the plate in front of you. You made quick eyes around the table; first at Pieck who was rubbing your shoulder soothingly and asking what was wrong, then to Reiner who was leaning across the table with wide eyes, and then to Jean who was already standing, gesturing you towards the bathroom.

Jean, sweet Jean, you felt strangely guilty for consuming the meat but - oddly enough - he didn’t seem to mind. At least, he didn’t look like he minded as you ran off towards the bathroom, your high heels clicking quickly against the fancy tiles of the Italian restaurant.

You swung the bathroom door open, ignoring the cringeworthy smash that erupted through the room once the door hit the wall behind it. There were other women in the bathroom, but you ignored them as you made your way to the first open stall you could find. The women watched curiously as you fell to your knees in front of the toilet, threatening to throw up the food you had so mindlessly eaten for the last hour and a half.

Nothing came out though, only a few breathless burps into the toilet bowl. You sat there for a few minutes longer than you needed to, sitting against the marble-tiled wall beside the toilet. You pressed your face against the tiles lightly, letting the coolness calm down your sweating skin.

“This is the women’s restroom,” A woman’s voice said from beside the sink.

“I’m sorry,” A familiar voice said back, “I’m just here checking up on somebody. She got sick, I’m here to-”

You lightly pushed the bathroom stall open, leaning against the edge of the door. You smiled weakly at Jean, standing with two middle-aged women who you remembered briefly from when you ran in here. He seemed to be aggressively convincing them of his honesty, swinging his arms around ferociously with his words. And upon seeing you standing in the doorway, the women finally believed him and didn’t try stopping him any further.

“Hi,” You said delicately from across the few feet separating you and Jean, “This is the women’s restroom, what are you doing in here?”

Jean bit back his smile, “I thought you might want some company.” Jean crossed the steps between you, now only a few inches away. “Nobody deserves to puke alone.”

You lightly pushed Jean’s shoulder with a giggle, “You’re ridiculous, but thank you-” You turned around and opened your arms to the inside of the empty bathroom stall- “And, welcome to my humble abode.”

“Oh,” Jean said with a smile, “I like what you did with the place.”

You grinned, “Thank you, I just got done with renovations, so I appreciate that.”

“And,” Jean quickly added as he pointed towards the lone sink in the corner, “The kitchen area looks very nice.”

You shrugged, “I tried to go for something a bit more modern and minimalistic.”

Jean breathlessly giggled by your side, “Well, you succeeded.”

Jean let you take the first seat, watching as you found your spot beside the toilet with the side of your face against the tiled wall. Jean then joined you on the floor, sitting by your side and pressing the side of his face against the tiled wall, but only so he could make eye contact with you.

The bathroom got silent a minute after Jean joined you in the stall. You supposed the other women were either staying quiet in order to eavesdrop or left to return to their dinners. Either way - you didn’t care if the women were there or not - you were going to talk to Jean freely in your secret space.

You weren’t sure why the bathroom now felt sacred to you. It wasn’t at the end of the Labyrinth for only the worthy to find. Instead, it was a bathroom in an Italian restaurant with a purely Italian menu that you should have used Google Translate for. But, it felt like you and Jean’s secret space, a place where you two could always find each other and could spend the rest of eternity together. Nothing bad happened within these stall walls, and nobody was eating horse meat for the past hour and a half within these stall walls.

“Do you remember when we first met?” Jean suddenly asked in an attempt to fill the comfortable silence in the bathroom.

You nodded lightly, “Yeah, of course I do.”

You had met Jean at a house party freshman year of college. You were invited since your roommate at the time was sleeping with the home-owner which happened to be one of Jean’s closest friends. And - ironically - you met Jean on the bathroom floor in that house at that fateful party nearly two years ago. It was strange how things went full circle.

Jean leaned his shoulder into your own, “Do you remember why we even started talking that night?”

You grinned to yourself, “Yeah, I do.”

You only started talking to Jean that night because you found him crying on the floor of the bathroom when you went to find your roommate. He was tipsy and had just seen his ex-girlfriend - who he was clearly not over - downstairs, dancing with another man. You had a bag of popcorn that your roommate begged you to make for her, but you instead offered it to Jean and joined him on the bathroom floor.

Jean tilted his head towards you, “Do you remember what you said to me?”

You looked into Jean’s eyes through your thick eyelashes, “Yes, I remember.”

While sitting on the bathroom floor together, Jean ranted to you about his ex-girlfriend and even the new guy she was dancing with. You heard about why they broke up, who she moved onto, and why he couldn’t bring himself to move on. You then leaned into his side on that bathroom floor, whispering one phrase you had been telling yourself for years.

Jean smiled to himself, “When you go looking for gold, you end up finding fool’s gold - so don’t go looking at all.”

“Let the gold come to you.” You whispered back to Jean, finishing your own quote from two years ago. You hadn’t known the words were so monumentous, you thought nothing of the quote and yet it stayed with him all of these years.

“I followed your advice,” Jean said matter-of-factly, “I followed your advice so well - actually - that I even started to push the gold away when it was just within reach.” Jean looked down at his fingers fiddling with the fabric of his slacks. “I set her up on a hundred horrible dates hoping I could forget about her for only a moment. But, I couldn’t forget about her, even if somebody wiped my memory.”

You felt your cheeks grow hot as you smiled at Jean, “That doesn’t even make sense.” Jean looked at like a wounded deer, wide scared eyes taking up all of your sight. “You can’t remember me if your memory was wiped - that’s not possible.”

“I’d manage,” Jean said with newly red cheeks, “I couldn’t forget you, even if the government tried to make me.”

You pushed Jean’s shoulder playfully, “Nuh-uh - you’re a liar, Kirstein.”

Jean shook his head, “Nope, I’ll always remember you.” He leaned his head in towards you. “I’ll remember your laugh and that little wrinkle you get between your eyebrows when I do something stupid.”

“Oh,” You said with a playful furrow of your brow, “‘You mean the wrinkle I get when you do anything?”

Jean grinned lightly, “Yeah, that one.” He continued leaning in closer until he was only a whisper away. “And how you taste like tropical fruits - like lemons and coconut.”

“And,” You whispered to his mouth, “How do you know what I taste like?”

Jean smiled, “I just intend on finding out.” His lips were pressed lightly against your own, his hand on the side of your head. “So, can I find out?”

You nodded, “Please do.”

Jean gently pressed his lips to yours, and the feeling made your stomach flip with excitement. You moved your legs closer to his, bare thighs on clothed thighs and the hem of your dress shifting up to your hips. You didn’t mind the new coldness spreading over your legs because your insides felt unbearably hot when kissing him.

The softness of Jean’s lips weren’t anything new to you. You had kissed Jean before, a soft smooch during a drunk game of spin the bottle - but never like this. His lips tasted like blueberry vodka last time you tasted them, but now his lips tasted like rosé and mint - a byproduct of the wine he had been drinking all night and the mint he sucked on before you ran off towards the bathroom - It wasn’t the best taste, but you weren’t complaining.

“I’m glad you waited for me,” You whispered into Jean’s mouth.

It became extremely clear to you at some point of the night just how much Jean means to you. Maybe because of one of the many times when you caught Jean’s eyes looking into your own. Or, one of the many times you noticed Jean talking to you when telling a story, as if you were the only one there with him. Or, one of the many times when you watched Jean fiddle mindlessly with the top of his wine glass, his eyes never leaving your frame - mentally undressing you in front of everybody in the restaurant and both of your dates.

He couldn’t help it though, he’s always loved how you looked in that black satin dress. It seemed everybody liked the dress, considering both Reiner and Pieck couldn’t keep their eyes off of your frame as well. Reiner and Pieck, who were still waiting at that table, hoping for some word from their dates who now found themselves sucking face in the women’s restroom.

“Jean,” You whispered, “We should head back.”

Jean sighed, “Okay.”

So, you did. You left the bathroom with Jean and eventually the restaurant, planning on going to where you normally did after dates - Jean’s apartment. It wasn’t easy saying goodbye to such a nice guy like Reiner knowing there wouldn’t be a second date, and it wasn’t easy saying no to Pieck’s offer of a second date with just her, and it especially wasn’t easy staring into that half-finished plate of polpette di cavallo until you and Jean finally made your exit.

The car ride was mostly quiet, both of you ignoring the obvious elephant in the room - what the hell happened in the bathroom. You didn’t regret the conversation on the bathroom floor or even the kiss that came afterwards, but you did regret ever cutting the kiss short. You searched your mind for some way back to that moment, thinking of a plan of either building and operating a time machine or trying again with Jean.

“So,” You said, “Pieck seems nice.”

Jean grinned to himself, “So does Reiner.”

You nodded slowly and turned to look out of the window, “‘Think there will be a second date with her?”

“If you’re having a second date with Reiner.” Jean spared a glance from the road in order to look at you. “‘Think there will be a second date with him?”

“Eh, he’s not really my type.”

Jean stopped the car at a red light. The color red seeped through the windshield, turning the inside of the car a bright crimson. Jean’s features were lit up by the light as his gaze danced across every inch of your face.

“He’s not?” Jean asked, “Then, what’s your type?”

You furrowed your brow, “Are you stupid?”

Jean smiled wide, “What are you saying?”

You shook your head and leaned forward, caressing Jean’s cheeks gently. You pressed your lips to his, smiling against his mouth. Jean kissed you back, quickly turning a sensual peck into a feverish makeout.

You felt Jean’s hands as they moved up the soft fabric of your dress. His fingers moved across your side and then wrapped around your body, landing on your back. He used the new position to pull you closer, much to your surprise considering the gasp that escaped from between your lips to the movement.

You wrapped your arms around Jean’s neck, pulling his face in closer. You pushed your tongue towards his mouth, and he gladly let it enter between his lips. You felt his breath hitch in his throat when you curled your tongue and swiped it across the roof of his mouth. Jean responded to the kiss with a tight grip on your dress only bringing you in-

A car suddenly honked it’s horn from behind you. Jean and you pulled apart as quickly as possible, ignoring that anything had happened. You slowly wiped your thumb across your bottom lip, smearing the wetness from the kiss onto your fingertip.

The rest of the ride was brutal, your desire for Jean was only getting unbearable. He didn’t even have to do anything. His fingers curving around the steering wheel made your heart pound. His slight head bob to the music quietly playing from the radio made your stomach inflate with nerves. And, his perfect posture in the driver’s seat made you want to groan with how badly you wanted him.

It was ridiculous, you were turning into a prepubescent boy - finding anything and everything Jean did as the epitome of attraction.

The car couldn’t have pulled into the apartment building’s parking lot any sooner. You were practically melting in Jean’s passenger seat and you needed to feel him again, you didn’t care why. You opened the car door and eventually walked alongside Jean towards his apartment complex.

You silently walked into the apartment building with Jean, and even rode up the elevator just as quiet. You waited beside him as he unlocked his apartment door. You watched as the muscles in his back moved under his shirt as he attempted to hold the door and unlock it at the same time - a trick the lock needed since the apartment was so old.

Once inside, you quickly kicked your shoes off, leaving them to lay with his shoes. You dropped your purse with the shoes as well, leaving it on the floor beside the door. And once you had discarded your unneeded items, you stood there - waiting for a sign from him, any sign at all.

Jean crossed his arms against his chest, his eyes landing on anything in the room but you. He peered across the kitchen and living room, even eyeing his bedroom door for a few seconds. Jean sighed before mumbling into the awkwardly silent room.

“So,” Jean said, “What do you want to do?”

You pressed your lips together, “I liked what we were doing in the car.” Jean suddenly looked at you, his eyes widened. “And, in the bathroom at the restaurant.”

Jean grinned to himself, “‘You wanna do that again?”

“Yes.” You nodded. “I do.”

Jean crossed the space between you, swooping his arms around you and pressing your chest into his. You bent your head upwards, giving Jean more room as his mouth pressed kisses into your neck and cheek. You giggled with your words as you attempted to speak.

“Jean,” You said as you pushed your fingers through his soft hair. You moved Jean’s face back enough to make eye contact with him. “‘Race you to the bedroom?”

Jean never thought he could let go of you in general, never mind quicker than he’s ever done anything before in his life. As soon as you were out his arms, Jean was running towards his bedroom door. You tried to beat him though, grabbing his arm and pulling him backwards, but nothing stopped him - he beat you into the bedroom.

You left the door open in front of you, standing back as Jean threw his discarded clothes from the bedroom floor and into his laundry basket - a half assed attempt at cleaning up. You supposed the gesture was nice, considering he wanted to clean up for you. But, it was even nicer knowing Jean had never seen his date with Pieck ending here.

Your eyes peered across the entirety of his bedroom, something so familiar now with a different connotation. You’ve touched Jean plenty of times in this very room, but not the way you’re about to. You knew that after tonight, everything would be different between you two - but a good type of different that filled you with hope.

Your eyes landed on the alarm clock on his bedside table, the red numbers flickering suddenly from 11:59 to 12:00.

Second Sunday

Jean’s body weight was crushing on top of you, but a type of crushing weight that was comfortable. You swore you could live under Jean’s body for the rest of eternity. He was warm and strong and his kissing only made the position all that much better.

Your dress was on the floor and you were mostly naked, lying on Jean’s bed with only a bra and panties on. He pressed his bare chest into your chest, the only clothes on his body being his pair of slacks and the brown belt holding them up.

“Jean,” You breathed into his mouth, “I want you.”

Jean groaned against your lips, the sound coming from deep within his throat. He had never thought he’d hear those words from your lips, he never thought he’d be good enough to. But alas, here you were; underneath him, mostly naked, whispering gut wrenching phrases into his mouth.

You moved your hands down his lean body, dainty fingers finding the waistline of his pants. You undid the belt around his waist and threw it to the floor once it was out of the belt loops. You then brought your hands to his zipper, undoing that as well.

You pushed Jean’s slacks down his legs, moving them out of the way in order to free enough space for what you really wanted from him at the moment. You curled your hands around his body, digging your nails into his back in an attempt to bring him closer. You pressed your fingers into the small of his back as you bucked your hips upwards towards him.

You felt as Jean’s hardness pressed down between your legs, and you couldn’t help the moan that escaped from between your lips. Jean moved his lips from yours, allowing more panting breaths to escape from your mouth as he continued to press down into you. He instead kissed down your neck, taking in each moan and ingraining them into his memory.

You moved your fingers into the waistband of his boxers, and pushed them down over his hips. He was just as big as you had always assumed. You weren’t perverted or dirty minded per say, but some nights you’d catch yourself with an excessive amount of questions; you’d wonder about his size, if he were good in bed, and if he had ever satisfied a woman before.

Sure enough, your questions would be answered after tonight.

You brought your hips to his, feeling him through only one layer of clothing now. You brought your hips off of the bed, pushing your panties down over your thighs. You awkwardly moved your legs around Jean’s, attempting to kick the fabric to the floor.

Jean brought his mouth to your ear before breathily whispering, “Do you still want me?”

You nodded frantically, “Yes, yes- yes, please.”

Jean grinned at your response, finally bringing his hips to yours. It was a moment you had waited for for much longer than you thought. This moment was in the distance for two whole years, and now it was finally here. You had wanted this for so long, to the point where you’d take anything Jean would give you - such as a drunken peck and a date with nearly every man on campus.

Next Chapter

#jean kirstein #jean aot #aot #modern au #college au #jean x reader #aot x reader #jean boy #jean kirstein x reader #double date #x reader #slight smut #f/m

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lover-of-trash-and-people · 3 years

Text

netflix shadow and bone s1 e5 pt3: peak darklina

the first kiss scene Alina is so beautiful Her little smile as she picks up his kefta after he hears him call out for Ivan to get it like ooh I'm gonna play a little trick on Alek Her making him smile with a joke that's not even funny The tentativeness of it all, them tiptoeing around each other, testing the boundaries Him being taken aback by her offering to help him put on his kefta but still wanting her to and immediately resorting to business voice asking questions about official sun summoner stuff And putting on his serious business face him trying to explain away the gloves by calling them a safeguard, not a sign of him not trusting her abilities the face he makes after saying spectacle either depicting his distaste for the showiness of the event or depicting his embarrassment at how he phrased the sentence, like what the fuck did I just say (more likely the first one) Her quickly turning around and walking away after the eye contact makes her realise how close they are and him pulling a puzzled look as she does so Just. Just how adorable the energy is. Both of them making jokes to diffuse the tension, her gripping the table to maybe steady or calm herself, the looks they give to each other as if engaged in a delicate dance; god-like Him straight up just blinking and looking down and gulping as she says 'we can offer Grisha and Ravkans hope' (could be multiple things he's thinking at this point, and all of them interest me) 'That means a lot to me, Alina.' *her turning to look at his face* 'You mean a lot...' *her immediately lowering her gaze and tracing where her mal scar used to be lmao* 'to everyone' *her raising her gaze to him again* The music swelling as she walks up to him, her barely grazing her fingers against his collar, his eyes looking across hers as if in disbelief, her looking at his lips, and then her closing the gap between them. Him being a little stiff, indubitably from being shocked, and yet giving into it almost instinctively as if he can't help it. The violin coming in powerfully yet softly to emphasize the tenderness of it all. This thing has been made with so much love and I can't contain myself about it. Him opening his eyes half a second after Alina, almost as if waking up from a dream and then, following a relaxing of his facial muscles as he clearly regains his composure, immediately looking inscrutable. Her doubting herself, not losing eye contact as he stands up from the desk, but her sudden fear, regret, and embarrassment clear on her face. Her sides of her lips slowly rising giving way his own self mirroring her and breaking into smile and composing himself and breaking into smile again before saying 'Not many people surprise me, Miss Starkov'. Her now fully breaking out into a smile, her face a picture of unguarded joy, she looks down only to have his gaze follow her face. Both of them giddy in the other's presence and the audience can feel it. It feels like he is leaning in for another one when the sound of the door opening makes them spring apart, regaining their composures and standing at a respectable distance from each other. Her poorly suppressing a smile, him looking at her visibly, her mimicking him with a glance out of her periphery, causing her to give in to her smile completely. Him looking visibly distracted as he attempts to pay attention to whoever came into the room. the Jesper of it all Jesper the mega idiot not being able to control his face from doing a thing as he realises the person who caught him where he wasn't supposed to be is the same person he was making sexy eyes at before and yet regaining his composure in record time The poor stable hand actually being interested in Jesper and being adorable with Jesper just being like charm itself Can you believe looking at Jesper Llewellyn Fahey in the flesh and having him make sexy eyes at you and then forgetting about it? Because I simply cannot. The line about light role play? Felt a little not right. GO OFF STABLE HAND WHO PUSHED JESPER AGAINST A WALL AND KISSED HIM, HE LITERALLY SAID IM POPPING OFF AND

THEN HE DID Zoya Zoya saying fuck off to the random racist comment made by one of the guests, but she was racist to Alina herself? (I mean South Asian-East Asian hate is not uncommon so idk) David omg the cutie pie adjusting his hair at the fete HEARTRENDER FUCKING HUSBANDS Fedyor insisting on Ivan eating the sweet and Ivan's solemn head shake like no babe im on a diet and Fedyor being like heart eyes please eat the sweet my love and then Fedyor holding Ivan's face to make him nibble off a corner and Ivan's face splitting into a reluctant grin Kaz the actor Seeing Kaz the actor instead of Kaz the master of trickery and plans is an interesting thing Kanej being Kanej cute banter interaction, would recommend, 10/10 hints at Arken being sus The look Kaz gives Arken when Arken leaves, I really should have known, I was simply being a clown Darkling and the dumb royalty We love the Darkling suppressing his anger at these otkazat'sya rulers dissing the grisha and the little palace Alina's entrance The soft hum that we hear when Alina enters but we don't see her face Alina's adorable peeking The Darkling's expression changing despite being done af with these mfers and instantaneously on catching a glimpse of Alina, she really has that power huh He really made it look like his pupils dilated and who knows maybe they did Him trying to call her out for not following protocol but him melting and saying 'you look lovely, by the way' Her saying 'you look like you needed saving' I can't breathe you're so cool ballroom at the little palace I must confess I expected the ballroom of the winter fete to be bigger

GENYADAVID looking at each other and pretending not to look at each other, my fucking heart Kanej being Kanej Kaz implying they're gonna try to trick the people into thinking that the fake sun summoner is real and Inej being done with his shit Alina's demonstration HER NAME IS ALINA STARKOV yes mfer The way people back away as he steps, god the power of this man Inej looking at Kaz omfg Okay him clapping the darkness into the room was cool af I love the shadow summoning effects so fucking much The first bit of light that Alina summons lighting up the gold parts of her black kefta, absolute perfection Alina just enjoying her power and then looking to Alek, his lips parting when she does Aw Fedyor looking at Ivan in a I told you she could do it way Genya and Fedyor exchanging glances as Alina besties THE CROWD SAYING SANKTA ALINA INEJ SAYING SANKTA ALINA WITH HALF A TEAR IN HER EYE DAMN THIS IS POWERFUL Jesper and Dima IMMEDIATELY TRANSITIONING TO JESPER SAYING 'SAINTS' AS A NAKED STABLE BOY GETS OFF OF HIM AGAHSJSJSJKS I CAN'T IM CACKLING AT THE AUDACITY OF THIS SHOW HOW ARE THEY SO PERFECT (his name's dima btw) Poor fucking Dima getting frightening orders from his superior as his hookup sneaks out with horses that are definitely not his Arken the little shit Ah Arken why'd you have to go and do this I was actually amused by you before the malyen factor omg Mal's here and someone saw him getting here apparat and faith? The apparat literally jumping out of the palace walls at Alina lol man I do love the religion angle of this universe and it would have been so fucking cool if it were explored a bit better ew apparat that grab was very violent mal/darkling interaction the darkling's reaction at his recognition of mal was so funny ah yes my arch nemesis, the other angle of this teen immortal love triangle how utterly delightful someone explain the darkling's 'are you alright' to mal, is it because Alina was worried sick, is it mind games, is it curiosity, what is it Im still don't know how to feel with them attaching a literal symbol to the sun summoner, to Alina's dreams and to the stag itself 'not until I see Alina' THE LOYAL HIMBO ENERGY IN THIS ONE ISTFG I have never known nose acting until I saw Ben Barnes, he uses his nose in his acting and it is absolutely wonderful; case in point, the 'i beg your pardon' to mal with the rage making his voice shake okay but why is every mal darkling interaction like, everything the prompt answer our baby mal gives and the satisfaction it brings to his face, fucking amazing the darkling being literally struck by this, his mouth literally agape, king this is a 20 year old lmao Baghra! OMG WE GOT A GLIMPSE OF BAGHRA'S FIRE YES Genya supremacy Genya beating Arken up let's fucking go Marie's plot influence and Racism? Yellowface? again? hmm bardugo (then again, I have no authority over this, I'm south asian) Ive already talked about how I'm interested in knowing if and how changing Marie's time and place of death going to influence the plot much because in the books it caused a chain reaction doing a lot of stuff Alina, my love Alina just, laughing with other Grisha, feeling at home, ah be still my treacherous heart Mal's confrontation scene with Alina that was in the books being retconned to Mal calling out to her body double, hmm, probably to make Mal more likeable, I don't have any feelings about this particularly Nadia and Fedyor Okay the both of them, smiling and walking, hand in hand, cute mlm wlw solidarity moment that I missed during the first watch Kanej interacting with Alina Why is Alina literally so adorable The music picking up as the Inferni catches sight of the 'limping man' (what? it was funny when he said it) Blue Irises Alina's face showing a certain sense of calm when Alek shows up Alina's face after the Darkling says 'for you' and presents her with blue irises is something like gasp okay you've got game sexy shadow man mal fite time omg I thought she was taking mal to talk to Baghra or smth not to kill him 🤡 aren't oprichnikis like

otkazat'sya or am I missing smth? Because Baghra's spy is obvs a fabrikator THE DESK SCENE omg the scene hath arriveth the fact that Alina can't stop smiling gods, the flirting 'I don't recall this, being part of the schedule' him turning back and saying 'it isn't' her hiding her face through the cover of smelling the flowers and just how coy she acts, like the literal eyelid batting Ma'am how embarrassing for you to have feelings rn these two are my absolute favs of all time the camera moving as they move from their spots on which they had to stand on to get the shot of their shadows almost kissing her nodding and smiling at him saying 'she'll probably be alright' like okay I'm ready for smooches kiss me already and him going 'don't you think' trying to savour this moment IM SORRY BUT THE FUCKING SCORE AT THE MOMENT THEIR LIPS MEET YOU DON'T UNDERSTAND I CANNOT COPE the way his hand is so big that he can almost hold her entire face in it the way she grips the back of his head I'm sorry I feel so disrespectful saying this but the sounds they make+I think that's a um titty grab or maybe it's just a holding someone and the placement was um unintended but I doubt it because everything in this fucking show is so intentional+ the lift up onto the desk+ the faces they make+ um god I'm going to hell for this but when they sort of grind into each other (I understand this is acting and they're just good at their job) but god does all of this make my heart race and also makes me happy I guess LITERAL GIGGLES I can't I'm soft 🥺🥺🥺 his little head shake at the knock on the door when he goes in for one last kiss before she gets off the desk and her eyes going all oy you, go get the door, I'm not going anywhere don't make whoever it is wait is so adorable and domestic her just standing there mouth agape to herself when he walks away HIM STILL FLUSHED AND BLUSHING AND HIS HAPPINESS CLEAR AS DAY ON HIS FACE WHEN HE OPENS THE DOOR his gaze flits to her when Ivan says Alina was the target 'I'll be waiting' love, I physically can't anymore Little cheek hold and walk away Her little smile to herself nearly fading before he jumps back in again to her surprise and to ours to hold her face with both his hands and kiss her one last time, and yes, he does kiss like he's being drafted for the war in the morning Her little mouth open and close and then her little smile to herself after he leaves I refuse to watch the rest of the episode right now because no let me steep in the darklina bliss

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mymegumi · 3 years

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GLORY

pairing: suna rintarou x gn!reader

summary: for all have sinned and fall short of the glory of god

genre: far cry five au, enemies to not-quite lovers, darker themes, villain au. tbh not really a ship fic </3

word count: 3.7k

warnings: heavy talk of religion, cults, cultish manipulation, dubious morality, use of guns, bad characters, haikyuu!! characters portrayed as villains, fake drugs, mentions of abuse, torture, injuries, implied noncon drug use and swearing

notes: i want to preface this by saying this is much darker than the content i normally write. it is not my normal content, and i am hopeful that i tagged everything properly; please tell me if i didn’t! also i dipped a bit into a character study of the main character’s fetch quest idea, in which you do all the work that other’s in game easily could! nonetheless, if you still wanna read—i hope you enjoy!

Hope’s County was a desolate piece of shit.

It was filled to the brim with cultists that seemed to think the Coming was approaching, in which the Lord would cast down those who did not repent for their sins. Truthfully, you weren’t even all that religious, but finding out about the self-proclaimed Sin family had turned you off to the idea even more, turning your back on the faith of a warped version of Christianity to instead focus on your job.

Called into the deteriorating county, you were a simple deputy—a rookie with barely a few years of work under your belt. You weren’t too keen on your police work, often finding the job as systematically fucked as the government officials that decided to turn a blind eye to the Sin family since the youngest of the bunch had more money to wave around than you did to pay your monthly rent.

“Rook,” an unfortunate nickname that’d stuck around against your protestations, your superior—Daichi was nice, if not a bit too optimistic—called out to you, waving you over to the map of Hope’s County, red marker furiously drawn all over, “you’re still new: y’remember what I told you about Suna?”

“Second oldest of the brothers, he’s considered the least of a threat due to the fact he’s often working in the Bliss fields.” You poke your head out the window a bit, eyes searching over the high reaching tops of ficus trees, “It’s not really known if he ingests the drug and experiences the hallucination of his followers, but it can be assumed that he doesn’t, to maintain the power over those that do.”

Daichi nods his approval at you, and you feel a flare of resentment somewhere deep in your belly. You try not to, really you do, you’re a good person who’s good at your job, and sometimes you go to church when it’s Easter, but in the same breath, you don’t remember the last time you’d ever even considered confessing your so-called sins to a Father.

The number one sin on your list, so Atsumu had taunted to you as he held a knife to your throat, was apparently Pride—too prideful of your supposed Savior of Hope’s County title you’d been given, pride thrummed in your veins after every member of his Father’s cult you wiped out. You don’t really remember what had happened after that, vaguely that his younger twin brother had to all but pry him off of you, reminding the blond of their Father’s purpose for you.

It was the only reason you were still alive, the Father’s so-called purpose for you—the fact he saw in his visions a future where you were a key piece, the final chess piece moving to keep a king in check. Even despite the list of sins Atsumu insisted that you followed, pride seemingly the one that harbored the most space in your person.

You, however, knew what your sin was. It flared red and angry whenever Daichi talked down to you as if your some odd years in the force were wiped clean, and you were a true rookie yet again, no smarter than a civilian to the dark ways the world worked. It made heat run through your body whenever Kita, the Father of the Sin family, called you his greatest masterpiece as if he had any say in the way you were slowly turning into a war machine—plowing through his followers with scary ease and accuracy.

Your greatest sin reared its head whenever you faced Suna, too laid back, too uncaring, and the antithesis of everything that you stood for.

Wrath, you learned, made your hands shake when he smiled at you, edges looping as if the Bliss he grew just poured from every pore of his body.

“Not that one can really want to ingest bliss,” Daichi murmurs into his palm a bit, leaning over his map of Hope’s County, “It’s more you get too close to it and the fumes of it will get you.”

Bliss was, just as the Sin family was, something you’d never even come close to encountering before. It was a drug that they’d found, or crossbred, and it had hallucinogenic effects on whoever inhaled the product it released.

Batches of it were found all over the county, but the root of the source was in Suna’s valley of the land, affectionately known as Heaven Valley by those who couldn’t remember the name, or didn’t try to. You’d seen more than one group of people in hazmat suits having to clear out fields of it, and just watching them made your head dip and spin with the would-be effects if you’d gone any closer than you already were.

Bush of full, green leaves with seemingly innocent white flowers on it, the plant itself was harmless, and yet when allowed to convert carbon dioxide, it made a lethal gas that made anyone who got too close go mad. It was said that the family had even begun experimenting with grinding it into a powder or melting it down to its liquid state.

“Bunch of fucking crazies,” You mutter the words to yourself long after you’d left the solace of Daichi’s office, somewhere out in the valley and far out of earshot of anyone that might wonder which group of people you were referring to—the ones producing cult members at a daily rate that was intensely concerning, or the ones trying to stop them, “God, I don’t get paid enough for this.”

“Hey, there, Dep, hope you’re tuned into my channel,” You could honestly groan, but you’re trying to make sure no one finds you on your perch in a tree somewhere, your 308 carbine’s scope not exactly focused on anything in particular, but at the ready. Suna’s voice is light and airy over the radio attached to your hip, though the sound is tuned to the earpiece you’re wearing, “Just wanted to let you know that ‘Tsumu’s missing you an awful lot. Says you left before he could have his fun, won’t stop pouting about it.”

You’re smarter than answering to a taunt that Suna sets out in front of you, and yet you can’t help but feel as if your lack of an answer is him winning. Maybe his so-called brother was right about the sin he’d tried carving into the flesh of your abdomen.

“You’d look real funny if I hadn’t picked up just now, Suna,” you whisper, eyes straying from the scope to the button that’s meant to be an answer to the other person on the line.

Suna’s laugh is a little grainy on the radio channel, but it’s not taunting like it usually is, joy written into the edges of his laugh, “And yet you’re on the other end of the line, answering me, dear Deputy. So who really looks funny in the end, hm?”

Fuck. The brunet had caught you, the lure of an unanswered challenge too much for you to pass up for your pride, a sin in and of itself. Maybe you should offer yourself up to Osamu and Atsumu again to get pride carved into your skin because apparently, your wrath wasn’t enough.

“Touché,” You start to climb down from the tree, slinging the gun over your shoulder as you huff into the receiver of the microphone. Your feet catch in the knots of the tree, and your hands start to blister a bit when you lose your footing, and yet Suna stays silent on the radio.

“Going silent on me, what was the point of the call—just to talk about your brother’s unfortunate hobbies with me?”

“Can’t a guy call out into the void and not expect someone to respond?” His smile is almost palpable over the radio call, however many times he flickers in and out of the call, “You’re always welcome to come visit my cabin, Dep.”

“Not in a million years,” feet now firmly planted on the ground, you have to right yourself a bit in orientation before you head towards the ATV you’d taken out to this part of the woods.

“I wouldn’t say that so definitely.”

Suna, of the Sin family, was often on the radio with you. He wasn’t always talking directly to you, no, sometimes he was just talking about idle parts of his day and there was a part of you that wondered if there was a part of him that just needed someone to talk to.

You always had to push the thoughts aside, however, tucking them somewhere deep into your chest so you wouldn’t sympathize with him. He was the cause for the murder of a multitude of people in Hope’s County, the root of the drug trade that went outside of the otherwise isolated county, and sometimes the despite it all, you sympathized with the man.

The Sin family was notorious in Hope’s County as not only being the leading members of the cult but because of their immigration status. Cast out of Japan in their early teens for following a faith so incorrectly, they found solace in the soil of a town in need of a direction, no matter how far off the beaten path it would take its members.

Kita Shinsuke, also known as the Father by those following their twisted version of Christianity, was the head of the operations. A prophet of fallacies or of forthcoming events, no one truly knew, and yet he claimed the words of God followed him in his sleep, that he couldn’t leave the Lord’s words unanswered.

The next of the group was often on his own, Ojiro Aran an isolated member of the family that preferred to stay in his section of the woods, away from the chaos that seemed to follow the youngest members of their little family. Ojiro was often known as the zookeeper, both for keeping the rowdy Osamu and Atsumu in line, while also because of his secondary role in the family—the trainer and breeder of wolves that were often used as indicators of one’s faith.

The Miya twins seemed to cause the most upfront issues for the Hope County Police Department, causing more than one silo to explode on the otherwise neutral farmlands. They seemed to have a flair for the dramatic, with their sins written on their bodies as if the Lord would accept their souls, rather than just their vessels. Sloth was scrawled across the younger of the two’s chest, with a matching Pride across the other’s, letters both a bit off-kilter.

The final member, of which enjoyed causing you, personally, the most trouble, was Suna Rintarou, genius beyond words and yet lazy beyond belief. For what he lacked in motivation, he made up for in creative and almost barbaric forms of punishment. His words were sharp around the edges, and yet they made everyone listen to the sermons he preached, like a moth drawn to the flame.

“My dear, sweet Rook, you seem to forget that this territory is mine,” you ignore the way he inflicts his claim on the land you’ve no right being on, and yet it sends something akin to fear down the lines of your spine, “You walk among these trees as if you’re hidden, and yet I always know where you are.”

“Sounds less like you know your territory,” you start, always willing to put up a fight with the brunet you’d not seen in at least a week, at this point, “and more like you’re stalking me—got a crush, Rintarou?”

“More like an infatuation,” his voice is just a purr, too velvety to just be jest, and yet there’s a part of you that knows you can’t trust a word this man says, “take what you want from that, darling, I’m not the one going to be thinking about it all night.”

Perhaps Atsumu had gotten your sin wrong, and perhaps there was a second option he’d never even considered—your human nature was multifaceted and ever-changing, and perhaps your sins were available in multitudes, rather than a singularity.

If he catches you again, you’d love to see his reaction to you saying you’d be willing to let him carve lust into your skin with his knife—love it even more if he asked who it was for.

Suna doesn’t say much more after that, just his usual spiel of the fact you need to atone for your sins, and that Osamu’s always willing to wash them from your skin in the river. You forget to mention your latest one isn’t one so easily erased from your skin, too deeply embedded in your bones, and you wear it like a second skin at this point.

That’s why you struggle, sometimes, against the Sin brothers and their outlandish claims of paradise meant for those who atone. You struggle because you know the weight of each sin you’ve ever committed—a book added to an already overflowing backpack of crimes against God.

Suna Rintarou, most of all, makes your blood simmer white-hot with unbridled rage—yet you’re not even sure why. It might be the lackadaisical smile that’s ever-present on his face, edges sloping and curving over his face as he taunts you, knives glinting in the sunlight of day. It might even be the way you want to press as close to him as possible, and run as far away from him as possible at the same time—ever the perfect contradiction, a paradox of which you’ve been unable to solve for your time at Hope’s County.

Perhaps the Sin family is right in the unmaking of the world, but your only proof is that God smites you by making Suna one of the most undeniably attractive men you’ve ever met.

Confident in a way that carries in the gait of his walk, and the way his shoulders settle on his frame, Suna knows that he’s got his claws deep in your skin—gripping you to keep you at a distance, and yet not letting you get any further away from him. As if you’d let him get away, your hands would be wrapped around the column of his neck—intent to kill or to offer pleasure, you’d just have to decide when the time came.

“Howdy, stranger.”

These woods must twist your sense of mind, pushing and pulling at the seams of your existence and the fabric that makes the foundation of your realities—the air must be contaminated. You’re not where you thought you were going: you’d been headed towards the Miyas’ territory with the sole purpose of destroying the sin of wrath that had been crawling its way up your throat, trying to escape at any chance.

Yet, you’ve ended up in Heaven’s Valley, and straight into Suna’s hand.

He stands before you, hands tucked into a pair of dark beige cargo pants with a loose leather vest as his only top, smooth skin covered in scars and tattoos on full display. For all that Atsumu spewed of repenting for your sins, confessions meant to be curled into skin with a blade, you had to admit that he was one hell of a tattoo artist.

Suna’s tattoos were unlike the harsh angles of Osamu’s, forgoing the looping script of the English language for the smooth strokes of Japanese. It was a harsh juxtaposition to the jagged letters of ‘greed’ splayed across the expanse of his lower belly, the bottom of the ‘g’ dipping underneath the waistband of his pants.

“Rintarou, what a surprise.” Your words slur a bit at the edges, and you’re not sure if it’s just from stepping into his land or being in his presence, but there’s a sinking feeling in your gut that Bliss dances in your system, “Can’t say I’m disappointed to see you.”

“How honest, sweet one,” his smile resembles a wolf, you come to the conclusion because despite the Sin family being described as a pack of foxes, there’s a carnal look in his eyes as he stares at you, “I like when you’re honest with me.”

“I like when you don’t shoot me on sight,” you vaguely remember a pistol at your hip, your carbine left behind in favor of a shotgun, “makes our little talks seem more personal.”

His laugh is clear, a bell in the fog that is your mind, “Do I often shoot at you, sweet one, for I believe it’s you that shoots first.”

“Mm,” you let your eyes flicker to his before you feel a crease form between your brows, “you still shoot back.”

“I never let a favor go unpaid, darling.” He’s closer to you now, a hand sliding along the curve of your arm, before resting just above your pulse point. His hand is warm, opposite of the cooling night air, “Yet you’ve done a favor for me I’ve not yet given anything in return for.”

“What?”

Your confusion is palpable even without your verbal input because Suna’s thumb is smoothing it away from your brow with his free hand. His eyes are darker now with the sun down, only the moonlight illuminating the outline of his face and there’s something about the sight that makes your skin rise, goosebumps lining your arms.

“Deputy,” the moniker is like a velvety purr against the exposed skin of your nape, “I’m a bit hurt that you don’t remember our very first meeting. It holds such a sweet spot in my heart, so for you to forget it cuts me deep to my core.”

You wrack your brain trying to remember the first time you’d met Suna, all those days ago at the beginning of the summer, when you’d been unscarred and unafraid of your allegiances. There was still a hopeful part of you, then, that had been so sure you could be the savior of these people.

“I don’t…” your voice trails off as you watch Suna walk back in front of you, his face calm as you worry at your bottom lip.

“Of course not,” a knife flickers in his hand, the silver blade gleaming in the pale light of the moon, “you were much too blissed out to remember, but there was information you provided that proved most useful.”

His hands trail along your arms, leaving goosebumps in his wake as you lean closer to him, drawn in as if connected by an invisible string. Suna’s leaned in closer now, close enough that you can feel his exhales fanning across your face gently; can see when his eyes flicker and dance on the lines of your features.

“Pretty little thing, too pretty to be fighting a war you never signed up for,” he muses softly as the back of his hand eases across your cheek, “my darling deputy, you told me you wished for an escape from the pressures, the responsibilities that the locals had forced upon you. You are but a single piece, yet you’re burdened with the work of a hundred pawns.”

You take a shuddering breath in, and you let the tension leave your body that had settled along the weight of your shoulders as soon as Suna let his presence be known. You let the need to shoot him rest, because despite this man being the suffering and cause of so many downfalls—he understood.

He understood your wrath, the feeling of it tingling in your fingertips whenever Daichi asked you to do a job that could easily be done by someone else. You were just a person who’d stumbled into Hope’s County at a precipice of change—down on your luck and thrust into a job and title that made you feel like an imposter. He knew your fists clenched whenever another civilian came to you, begging you to save their farm when indeed, it would do nothing in the end for the resistance.

Maybe he knew that underneath every mundane task that you helped others with, there was a vexation that ran along the lengths of your body at their inability to do things on their own. You loved the citizens of this county, you swore to protect them when you became a member of the police force, and yet an undeniable thrum of rage would flood your body when they leaned on you more than the other members of the resistance.

How lovely it was that someone else understood you, even if it was Suna Rintarou.

Why were you fighting them so hard? Your mind supplies this thought too easily, like shrugging on a hoodie on a cold night, and it flits around your brain and fills in the empty spaces that Suna keeps tearing in your psyche.

You remember the end of the sermon that Kita had spoken when you first went to arrest him, all those months ago when the summer was licking at spring’s heels. He’d been haloed in the rays of the evening sun that filtered into the partially broken down church, hands spread with a rosary wrapped tightly against his left hand.

“For all have sinned,” he had spoken softly, eyes locking with yours as soon as the doors opened, and you felt panic strike you still, Daichi pressing on your shoulder to make you continue walking, “and fall short of the glory of God.”

If you were a sinner already falling from His good graces, why not enter hell with a list of sins that made the Devil take a breath in? Were you not already marked for damnation—what good would siding with Suna Rintarou and his family of fucked up prophets do for you?

“Rintarou,” his name leaves your mouth breathlessly, “if I’m going to hell, I’m going to drag you and your family with me.”

His eyes flash with something you can’t quite place your finger on, and yet the feeling it gives you runs along your spine with a chill, “You’re making a mistake. My family and I will find you, no matter where you are, and no matter what trouble you kick up.”

You press a kiss along the curve of his jaw, not missing the way his hands clench at his sides, “Then come catch me.”

There’s a part of you that hates that Atsumu was right because pride sinks into your bones with the fact that you leave with the last word. The last laugh is yours as you leave Suna in the dust of your exit, not knowing if there was another way it could have ended, if you’d just taken the hand he’d extended to you.

t.list — @nekomabvc

#tw religion #tw abuse #tw torture #tw drugs #tw violence #tw guns #tw manipulation #tw cults #tw cult #suna x y/n #suna rintaro x y/n #suna x you #suna x reader #suna rintarou #suna rintarō #suna rintaro x reader #suna rintaro x you #grind for the wealth

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sometimesrosy · 4 years

Note

Thanks for being one of the last blogs left to discuss the show to the end. I understand the hurt and betrayal people feel right now. I feel it too, but as a new fan who binged 1-6 back in March, I keep thinking about the crazy moments that were reversed or resolved at the end of seasons. If it hadn't been for Jason's word of God post or the anon accounts, I would have scoffed at this "death", b/c it seemed like a setup. I may not like JR, but I need to see how he ends this before I criticize.

Yeah. I know exactly what you’re talking about.

I think in fandom, we have a hard time adjusting to the immediate storyline, and we forget the long term one. And this DOES seem like the story is not done. Usually when they die, it’s confirmed that they die. A hole in the head. That blank eye. Blown out into space. They die in someone’s arms. We see their last breaths. A dead body or grave. The light goes out. In this, we don’t see that. We see Clarke ripped away from the scene, her last sight the result of what she did.

No conclusion, no resolution, no CONFIRMATION-- in narrative anyway.

On social media we got goodbyes. But I have NEVER used social media as confirmation for canon. I can ONLY accept canon.

And canon is up in the air. It looks bad, I’m not gonna lie. But it isn’t confirmed, resolved, or concluded.

It’s the rumors that give us a “reason” for the lack of conclusion. And I can’t say that the rumors don’t explain it, because they do make sense.

But they’re still not canon.

Bellamy also died at the end of season 1. But he didn’t die. Clarke died at the end of season 4... we saw her, remember? Covered with radiation sores and falling to the floor, but she survived. Not that B knew. Speaking of season 4, Octavia also died in season 4. We saw her fall from the cliff, stabbed, and B collapsed on finding out. Season 6 Clarke died again. We saw the lights go out that time. No one believed it. Bellamy died at the beginning of season 7 too. No one believed it. Seems like we stopped believing when they die.

Within the show, they have the capability to save him. Bardo has a high level of tech, including medical tech, a disciple has his hand on Bellamy’s chest in the last scene, and they have immediate access to the medical labs by going through the anomaly.

The only thing that makes everyone take it for certain is the social media. Even if it looks terribly damning, I can’t take that as evidence.

STICK TO THE TEXT.

Yes, I am going to watch the next three episodes. I didn’t commit to all this hell to back out now.

The hardest thing to understand right now, for me, is not that B died. I expected him to die. I think I had him (and Clarke) at a 90% or 95% chance of dying this season. It’s the WAY it happened, with that lack of resolution. And the splitting up of Bellarke. That Clarke did it.

It seems to ruin the long term narrative of Clarke being the hero, Bellarke saving the world together, Bellamy saving Clarke while Clarke saves humanity, Bellamy’s character development and learning to let those he love make his own choices, Bellamy being a leader, Clarke understanding that some things are not worth it.

Like, there are TWO options that make sense with all this...

Bellamy isn’t really dead and this is a fake out to raise tension... which makes sense with the narrative and the way the story has been told for 7 years.

Bellamy is dead and JR totally betrayed his narrative, Bellamy, Clarke, Bob, and the audience because he’s a mother fucking egotistical jackass. because even if bob quit for health reasons he didn’t need to tank the story to write him out.

Now, there’s been a fandom narrative of JR being a fucking egotistical jackass who is taking vengeance on fandom and various actors. So that slides very neatly into what the antis believe.

But that narrative never really fit the story on screen. I mean, I think yeah he’s probably an egotistical jackass, but he always put the story before anyone else. It was HIS story and he wasn’t going to let anyone tell him what to write. And he would kill off characters and doom ships and let story lines fade off into oblivion for ONE narrative, and that’s what he just killed, or appeared to kill in the last episode. So why would he now sink it? IDK. it’s weird and it makes no sense.

DID he just give up in the last season because he moved on to the other pilot-- which has no guarantee of being picked up, and seemes to be waiting on how THIS story does? Why would he do that when his name will be based on THIS show. And when we have a glaring example of showrunners who did that with GOT and ended up LOSING huge deals for new shows because of the mess they made. That seems remarkably stupid to not learn the lesson and to go down the exact same path, even to having one love interest kill the other, who was one of the main heroes.

Isn’t that WEIRD? IS JR COMPLETELY STUPID? Despite years of evidence to the contrary where he seems pretty savvy? Could he possibly be using that fandom fear and belief to make everyone believe he killed off Bellamy for no reason? Would he USE a social media account to manipulate viewers into having emotional reactions to the story by lying??? WELL NO. He’s not lying. He says this was Bellamy’s death but he doesn’t say he stays dead, or that Bardo can’t bring him back. Remember season 2? Lincoln died and they brought him back. And when he thanks Bob for his 7 years, that also is not a lie. Bob gave him 7 years. We’ve seen Bellamy’s story for 7 years. Whether it ends here or continues for another three eps. It’s definitely implying that he’s not coming back, but it’s not lying if he does come back.

Well, I don’t know. Maybe JR is completely stupid. I’ll wait to see if he stick the landing, but my faith is low. It’s just all very weird and makes no sense in a story that has always made sense if you follow his storyline. And as a writer I just don’t know why you would tank your long term story three eps before you finish it up. And he DOES love to scare us and make us feel anguished and kill of our mains and thinking ALL IS LOST before finding out that no indeed, all is not lost and our heroes can and do come back and reach victory.

THAT fits his story. But maybe he’s so desperate for us to believe it’s over that he’ll mislead us IRL to make us believe his plot twist in the narrative.

Can’t say I wouldnt prefer it to be a fake out, but if it is a fake out he’s still a HUGE fucking egotistical asshole.

I just can’t believe it until I see the canon. I need to see the conclusion, because this seems like a total trashing of the story, and that just makes no sense for what we’ve seen for 7 years. Actually, when I think about all of this, it gives me a little faith in the story back. Not a lot, but a little. BECAUSE IT MAKES NO SENSE. It is PURELY the fandom narrative that JR is an egotistical jackass and doesn’t fit with the canon narrative.

Listen, I don’t think I’ll ever get involved with a fandom again. it ruins the story. All this gossip and negativity and shipwars and harassment and I don’t even LIKE the behind the scenes tales of who did what to whom. I just want to watch the stories and enjoy what I enjoy. I wish we could talk about it all without creating this huge writhing mass of maggoty decay as so called fandom attempts to take apart everything good about a show we’re supposed to love.

#anyway i'm still gonna watch #even if i am kind of dreading tonight

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ticklikeabomb · 4 years

Text

Grouch - Part 1

Pairing : Bucky x Plus Size Reader ; Avengers x Plus Size Reader

Warning : Language ; Bucky being a Jerk

Word Count : 2.3k

Summary : You feel like Bucky hates you. Actually, you know he does since he’s made it clear several times. Why? That’s the question you ask yourself all the time. One day you both get assigned to a mission together and it’s the last straw for you. Bucky’s words will break much more than just your heart.

A/N : I doubt Bucky would be like this but it’s only for the story.

Disclaimer : I do not own the characters, nor the universe where they were created and interact in. This series/fiction is only for entertainment purposes.

You were in the common room discussing with Wanda, Natasha and Pepper about your respective New Year Eve’s attire when Sam, Steve and the one and only Bucky Barnes entered the room. As soon as his eyes locked with your, his smile faltered in a cold firm line. Your presence being enough to trigger his grumpy self. You had no idea why Bucky hated you so much.

When you first joined the Avengers two years ago just right after everyone managed to fix the Accords fiasco, everyone welcomed you with open arms except him. Steve warned you that it would be more complicated to bound with him since he was still trying to adapt to people being kind to him. You could completely understand him, considering his Winter Soldier’s past. So, you kept your distances while still being professional and polite with him, treating him like everyone else on the team. Even so, the soldier was an iceberg regarding you. You could handle the coldness but what you couldn’t handle was when he began dropping hurtful comments and implying you shouldn’t be part of the team. “Why is she here again? She’s useless Steve.”, you heard him once say when he thought he was alone with Steve in the common room.

After a while, you returned him his coldness and there’s when things escalated. You began barking at each other at every possible occasion, rude and petty comments going back and forth like a boomerang. It began to affect the whole team, who tried all their best to organize your schedules in order to keep you both from bumping into each other. But it wasn’t always easy, just like now.

You didn’t pay him attention and continued the conversation with the girls, when Pepper asked you what you would wear. “I was planning on wearing an elegant long black dress I found a couple of months ago”, you answered. “The one we bought together?”, asked Wanda to which you nodded. “You going to make heads turn with that one dear”, she added. At that part Bucky scoffed. You turned towards him a frown on your face, “Something you have to say Barnes.” “Actually yes. You could wear anything you’d want, it could still not cover this”, he said while motioning up and down to you. Shocked that he would go so far and low in dehumanizing you in front of the others with that comment regarding your figure, you stood up and left the room, rage and shame burning your whole being.

“What the Fuck Barnes”, said Sam while Steve gave him one of his menacing looks. “You’re a real asshole, you know that”, added Natasha. He lifted his arms up, “What? She asked and I told the truth.” One by one, they left the common room not believing he would say something like that. Bucky gulped harshly when Wanda’s eyes landed on him and after she spoke to him with her mind. “Keep going on and you’ll lose her for real. You may be able to fool everyone but not me. And one more thing, you talk to her like that one more time and I’ll hurt you so badly that you will beg me to just kill you right away.”

31st December 2018

Today was the last day of 2017. Even if it’s a common thing to say after each year, that year has been a particular difficult one. All that tension between you and Bucky was getting on your nerves most of the time but mostly, it was getting to you emotionally. It was going so far to the point you started questioning your abilities on the team and what you could bring to them. The whole bickering was draining you mentally, so you decided to make a truce with the enemy as a New Year’s resolution.

You arrived at the party, feeling confident and determined. He wouldn’t ruin your last night with his comments and it seemed that on his side, he must have thought the same thing, since he was avoiding your presence. Even when it occurred of you both being around the team at the same time, he kept whatever he was thinking to himself. ‘Maybe this could actually work’, you thought to yourself. The evening continued and everyone gathered on the balcony to watch the fireworks. Whenever it was faith or a simple coincidence, you stood next to Bucky when the clock ticked midnight. Looking beside you, you noticed his gaze was already fixed at you and you took the opportunity to tell him you wanted to make peace. You faced him and when you were about to open your mouth, he cut you off by saying “I don’t care if it’s tradition and that you seem to be the only available one standing next to me. I’d rather die than kiss you.” His words felt like a knife was being plunged and twisted deeply in your entrails. You bowed your head while leaving a light chuckle in order for him to not see how much it hurt before leaving his side and going up to your room.

For the next two days, you didn’t leave your room telling some of the team members you caught a cold and needed some rest. The only time you would get out of your room was when everybody was asleep to get something to eat. Even so, you could always feel that you weren’t alone in the kitchen. What was supposed to feel like home was trapping you between four walls and you didn’t like it, bad memories resurfacing. You couldn’t fake the cold anymore and on the third day, you left your room. “Hey Y/N, you feeling better?”, Steve greeted you with a side hug. You nodded and assured him you did. “Good because there’s a meeting in 10 minutes.” “Alright, let me just grab a cup of coffee and I’ll be right there.” He nodded before leaving you making his way to the conference room. You felt shivers crossing your skin when you entered and saw Bucky already seated on his usual spot. You left your and took a seat at the far opposite of his, making Steve and Tony frown. “Where are the others?”, you asked perplexed. “This mission only regards both of you. You’ll be paired up i-“ “I refuse”, you immediately said while Bucky responded at the same time “Absolutely not.”

“Look I know there has been some tension”, began Steve while glaring at Bucky, “but you’re the best operatives for this mission.” “I’m sure you can find someone more qualified for me to team up with”, spat Bucky. You rolled your eyes and took a deep breath in order to calm yourself. “That’s enough Bucky. You’ll work together on this mission and that’s an ORDER”, replied Steve in a firm tone. “Is there really no other way?”, you asked. “I’m afraid not”, commented Tony. “That’s a fucking joke”, you heard Bucky mumble to himself. “Asshole”, you did the same well aware of his super soldier hearing. Steve and Tony went through the details of the mission and as soon as they were done, Bucky stormed out of the room fuming. Since it was planned for you to leave as soon as the meeting was done, you quickly went to your room to pack some clothes in a duffel bag as long as your suit and weapons before walking to the Quinjet. Ignoring everyone, Bucky sat down on the pilot seat and started the engine off. Steve and Tony watched the engine fly away with a little apprehension. “I hope your little plan of them getting along will work”, commented Tony. “I hope so too”, mumbled Steve back.

Besides of the airplane, there was no noise heard. No words or even looks exchanged between each other. The atmosphere colder than the Arctic. After two long hours, you finally arrived at the hotel room the team booked for your staying and you swear you could have killed the little joker that ordered it. You were the first one to enter the room and discover there was only one bed and a couch. “I’m gonna kill them”, you said. Confused Bucky’s gaze landed on what made you stop dead on your track. “Not if I kill them first”, he replied. ‘Oh he speaks’, was the first thing that popped into your head. An awkward silence followed before he spoke up “How do you wanna do this?” You rolled your eyes so hard you were sure you would get a massive headache after. “I’m not sleeping in the same bed as you that’s for sure. I’ll take the couch”, you replied bitterly.

At your words, he tensed up but you didn’t pay attention to it, grabbing your bag instead and locking yourself in the bathroom. You took a long shower before wearing you’re a sweatpants and shirt and returning to the room. Without sparing him a single look, you took some spare sheets from the closet and laid down on the couch, going a final time through the details for the mission. He came out of the shower anger radiating his body and said through greeted teeth, “You took all the warm water.” A small smile crept on your face and faked remorse, “Sorrrry.” A pillow crashed on your head with full force making you whine in pain, “Ouch.” “Sorrrry”, chanted Bucky to whom you gave a deadly look. You prayed for the mission to end quickly.

“Y/N? Y/N stay here, alright Sweety. Let’s play hide and seek. You know the rules, don’t you?” “Alright, I’ll count to 50 and you will only get out if you hear Mommy and Daddy. No one else! Do you understand?” “Y/N? Y/N?”

“Y/N for God’s sake wake up!”, Bucky wiggled you out of your dream. You gasped, looking around you, his concerned look above you. You tried to regulate your breathing when you noticed his hand on your shoulder. You shook it from its place and apologized for waking him up. Standing up, you grabbed your jacket and shoes and went outside to catch some fresh air. You forgot how much you hated that dream. It would hunt you several times during the year. It felt so real it was disturbing. You didn’t recognize the voices and the strangest part was that you never played hide and seek with your parents, at least that’s always been their answer when you’d ask. You returned back to the room an hour and half later. Bucky’s back was facing you but you knew he was still awake even if he pretended not to be. You just hoped everything would go as planned.

“HEY, hey that’s enough now!”, Steve’s voice echoed in room like a sharp knife.” “Everybody just calm down”, said Tony. You and Bucky, both too stubborn and proud to concede the other, were fuming with rage. “She compromised the whole mission. If I wasn’t there, she would be dead by now.” “I did my part. No one asked you to intervene, I had it covered”, you bitterly replied back. “Covered my ass”, he spat. You slid the Flashdrive on the table making everyone quiet down. “Like I said, I did my part. That can’t be said for you. You let Hydra’s main lead get away.” “Probably because I was too busy to handle your sorry ass.” “Guys”, alerted Tony. Standing up, you slightly winced but firmly marched in front of Bucky. Taking your gun you placed it on his metal hand, pointing it on your chest. His eyes widened. “Do it!” “Wha-“ “Fucking do it. If I’m such a burden to you and my presence makes you wanna die, why don’t you get those balls out and do it yourself?”, you told him. “Y/N”, the other two Avengers whispered while slowly stepping towards you. You pressed the hold of Bucky’s hand tighter and closed the gap. Looking him straight in the eyes, you calmly repeated, “Do it!” He didn’t move. It was like he got stuck on the floor, shocked at what you were requesting him. Like he would actually even consider doing that. For him it was just words. Hurtful ones but necessary ones. You had to hate him. “That’s what I thought. You bark a lot but do shit”, you told him before leaving the room.

Entering your room, you asked F.R.I.D.A.Y to deny all access to it. You took your shirt out and winced once more at the gun wound on your rib. You got the first aid kit out and began cleaning it before stitching it, biting on a towel to prevent any noise. You laid in bed, everything from the past hours, days, months of your life and decided you couldn’t keep going on like that. Grabbing the necessary, you made your bag and decided to leave when everybody was asleep.

2 Years Later

“Hello Avengers, thank you for coming so quickly”, said Fury before taking a seat. “No problem. What’s going on?”, asked Natasha. “Why do you think there’s something wrong Agent Romanoff?”, he chuckled. “Because I know you”, she simply stated. His smile slowly faded away and he gave her a slow nod. “Well, I convoked you because one of my agents went missing a year ago”, he started but was quickly cut off. “A year and you’re only telling us now?”, said Sam. “Is there a problem with the system?”, asked Tony confused. “The system works just fine. There is are no traces because the undercover mission was too risky to put the Agent through the system. After she didn’t send her report, I immediately knew there was something wrong. I’m afraid she might have been discovered by the enemy.” “The enemy?”, asked Wanda. “Hydra. If they found out, she’s probably dead by now or worst”, he said before fixing his gaze on Bucky who felt uncomfortable all of a sudden. “Who’s the Agent?”

“It’s Y/N.”

PERMANENT TAG LIST : @arrowswithwifi @poetic-pixie @theshortegg @kyber-hearts-and-stardust-souls @prettybubblesintheair @yafriendlyfangirl @marshmallow-witch @ms-cellanies @the-feckless-wonder @cfisher290 @thefangirltheycallviolet @river-fics @lilulo-12 @fanfictionrecommendations-com @spetzerfehn @angieptt @wayward-timetravel-collecter @ashley17jacobs @lokithedancingqueen @wildsoul1221 @introvertedsin @robertconradjr @francezka10 @titty-teetee @breezy1415 @nerdypinupcrystal @hhiggs

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#Bucky Barnes #bucky x plus size reader #Plus Size #plus size imagine #bucky x plus size reader imagine #Avengers #avengers x plus size reader #tony stark #Steve Rogers #sam wilson #natasha romanoff #wanda maximoff #Nick Fury #hydra #series #grouch series

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22degreehalo · 3 years

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Urghhhhhhhhhhhh in day 5 million of taking things way more sensitively than I should,

In a mobile game I really love right now (Fire Emblrm Heroes), the main community is the subreddit,which I'm on all the time. But there, people have a really bad habit of implying fans of my favorite apsect of the game are just complaining for the sake of it, because the banners always sell badly. They are OBSESSED with monetary records and what's selling. But it sells badly because that set of characters are just from a long time ago. Yet there's always this weird assumption that if you say you want more of them, it means nothing unless you've paid money on their banners.

And like Ive complained about that before and it was upvoted so I think some people agree. But it gets worse.

There's some dude who is like, 100% convinced he knows all the trends and is the data master. And I really don't think he's an asshole or anything - data is interesting! But he is COMPLETELY convinced that all support for my favorite character is 'pity driven' and not 'sincere and genuine support.' And he comes in to say this practically every single time this character comes up. Talking about how his 'supposedly devoted fans' have 'lost credibility'.

Why does he think that? Because this character has one alt, ever, and it Sucked. It was weirdly and obviously underpowered despite being a hyper premium hard to get unit. And it sold really badly. To him, that's it: since it sold badly it proves all his supposed support is just fake.

And that makes me so mad because I try really hard to build this unit and love it even though yes it's frustrating that it's so underpowered. But I finally found out the other day why 'it didn't sell well because the unit sucks, dude' isn't good enough for him.

It's because when the unit was revealed, the character's fans DIDN'T SEEM ANGRY ENOUGH. As if 'this was good enough for them.' We're literally being presumed of bad faith because we weren't fucking cliched toxic gamers throwing a tantrum over finally getting an alt we'd wanted for YEARS. (Especially when this character's whole deal is that he's kind and gentle and hates fighting!!)

And I commented to say how hurtful this all was - that we are all legit fans and it's super painful to be accused of being disloyal or fake or like no-one really loves him that much. Especially since this shit keeps coming up in totally unexpected threads. But his comment was only upvoted even further while mine wasn't touched so obviously I am just an overly sensitive idiot.

But I just. Having a hyperfixation of yours questioned like that... idk I can't really put into words why it feels so bad. Aren't we all here because we legitimately love some characters and are irrationally devoted to them?? Why is it okay to question just this group of characters and THIS ONE SPECIFIC CHARACTER, IT'S ALWAYS HIM, in that gross transactional 'yeah but if you haven't paid money do you really love them?? Lmao' kind of way? :(

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stevie-scoops · 4 years

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Crush On You (Steve Harrington x Reader)

hi! so, i made a post about starting up a ST imagine blog a little while ago, but then life got in the way and i didn’t really write anything. but!! given the fact that we really shouldn’t be leaving our houses right now, i had a little time to throw something together! this is the first thing i’ve written in about a year, and the first thing i’ve ever written for stranger things, so i’m sorry if it isn’t great, but i’m as satisfied with it as i figure i ever will be! please let me know what you think!

Warnings: none

“I’m about to go on break. You want me to bring you back anything?” you asked your coworker, Jess, stepping out from behind the register.

She smiled as she restocked the last shelf and took your position over.

“No thanks. I’m sure you’re going to spend the whole time at Scoops, and I’m lactose intolerant.”

“I don’t spend my whole break there.” you defended. “I can stop and grab you a pretzel or something on my way back.”

“I’m good. Tell Steve I said hi, though.” She teased, giving you a knowing look as you felt your face heat up a little.

You adjusted your hair to better cover your reddened ears as you walked out of the store and made your way towards the food court.

----

Robin leaned against the back counter, watching as Steve wiped and re-wiped the area around the register, glancing up towards the entrance every few seconds.

“Dude, would you relax?” she said, eating a handful of peanuts she snagged from the toppings jar. “She’s come in every day for like, two months. You’re acting like a weirdo.”

“Yeah, but today’s different.” Steve said, slinging the rag over his shoulder and turning around to face his friend.

Robin raised an eyebrow at him and popped another nut in her mouth.

“I’m gonna ask her today.”

“You were going to ask her last week, too. And the week before that.”

“I mean it this time, though. I’m not chickening out again.”

Robin laughed as she chewed the last of her snack, dusting the salt off her hands.

“Sure you’re not.”

“I mean it, Rob. Have a little faith in me.”

“Okay, fine. But this is the absolute last time I’m even going to slightly believe in you. If you don’t do it today, I’m asking her out myself.”

Steve rolled his eyes.

“You don’t even know if she likes girls.”

“Do you really know that she likes guys?” Robin countered.

Steve shot her a glare.

“All I’m saying is at least I’m man enough to actually ask her.”

“You don’t even like her like that!”

“She’s cute,” Robin said with a shrug. “I wouldn’t mind taking her to a movie or something.”

“That is, that’s,” Steve shook his in disbelief, “That’s breaking the unwritten law of friendship! You can’t do that!”

“Then you better make your move soon, dude.” Robin said simply, looking over Steve’s shoulder out the front of the store.

Steve turned around and saw you walking across the food court, headed straight for the shop.

“It’s now or never.” Robin said before pushing off the counter and heading into the back.

Steve took a deep breath and straightened his uniform.

He could do this.

----

Your stomach fluttered as you approached Scoops.

You felt a little silly for it; you came here every single day you worked, always opting to get ice cream and a Coke for lunch instead of something more balanced. But every day without fail, you felt a giddy anxiousness when you walked into the shop. The effects of your dumb little schoolgirl crush, the likes of which you hadn’t felt since juinor high until you first entered the little parlor a couple of months ago.

But now you felt like you were thirteen again, fantasizing about the dreamy guy in the dorky sailor uniform day in and day out, thinking about his bright smile and soft hair while you lay in bed staring at the ceiling and listening to your favorite cheesy records. Maybe it was weird, how much you thought about him, but you couldn’t help it. Everything about him was just so… infatuating.

You pushed the thoughts from your head as you crossed the threshold, smiling brightly at the boy behind the counter.

“Ahoy, Y/N!” he called out, making you laugh.

“Ahoy, Steve.” you returned, stepping up to the case and feigning interest at the day’s flavors. “How are you today?”

“Pretty good. It’s been slow today, nice change of pace.”

“Yeah,” you agreed, “Claire’s was a madhouse during spring break. I’m glad it’s over.”

Steve nodded.

“Tell me about it. The amount of kids in here last week, running around with their sticky little hands touching everything was overwhelming. Not super looking forward to this afternoon either, though. A lot of parents bring their kids in on Friday afternoons as a reward or something.”

“Yikes. I’m so glad I don’t work in food service.”

Silence fell between the two of you, slightly uncomfortable, as you looked in the case.

“Hey, uh, I was wondering,” Steve started abruptly, causing you to look up, but he seemed to freeze up once your eyes met.

“Yes?” you prompted when he hadn’t continued speaking.

“I-I was wondering if you, uh,”

You bit your lip as your brain filled in his unfinished sentence with a suggestion that made your stomach twist in a hopeful way. You’d thought about this moment for so long, dreamed about it a hundred different times, never quite feeling like it could actually happen.

“If you liked peanut butter?”

“What?” your expression dropped and you felt stupid for getting your hopes up.

“We’ve got a new flavor in, peanut butter with fudge swirl and cookie chunks. It’s pretty good.”

“Oh, uh, yeah. That sounds great.” you smiled at him but it didn’t quite reach your eyes.

You watched silently as he dished two scoops of ice cream into the red and white styrofoam bowl, feeling progressively worse.

He slid the container across the counter and you handed him $3.50, the cost of your “lunch” every day.

“Enjoy the rest of your day.” you told him, hoping he couldn’t hear the disappointment in your voice.

“Yeah, you too. See you later.”

You gave him another fake smile before grabbing your ice cream and leaving.

----

“Are you an idiot or what?” Robin asked, busting out of the back as soon as you left the store.

“I just couldn’t do it. What if she said no?” Steve sighed, rubbing a hand over his face.

“Are you kidding? She was clearly upset, I couldn’t even see her and I could tell.”

“What?”

Robin rolled her eyes at him.

“You’re a special kind of stupid, Harrington. It was clear in her voice that she was expecting something else from you. She was hoping you’d ask her out and, for some reason, she was disappointed that you didn’t.”

Steve looked at her skeptically.

“How do you know?”

Robin let out a long, frustrated groan.

“She obviously likes you, dingus! She comes in here every day. Do you think she really wants to eat ice cream for lunch five times a week?” Steve opened his mouth to reply, but Robin cut him off. “No, she doesn’t! She comes in here to see you. She spends three and a half dollars every day just to talk to you, and now she thinks you don’t like her.”

“Well, why didn’t you tell me that before?” Steve asked, feeling a mixture of hope and guilt swirl inside him.

“I very heavily implied it. I pushed you and gave you as much incentive as I could to ask her and you still didn’t do anything.”

“How was I supposed to know? I mean, I’m not a mind reader! I don’t understand why you wouldn’t just tell me. Seriously, I-” Steve began to argue, before suddenly realizing “She forgot her Coke.”

----

“I don’t know, I guess it’s stupid that I’m acting all hurt over it. It’s not like he did literally anything to insinuate that he had any interest in me. He’s way out of my league anyway.” you sighed, poking at your ice cream with your spoon. You didn’t even actually like peanut butter that much.

“It’s not stupid.” Jess assured you, “Seriously, it’s totally normal that your feelings are a little hurt. I mean, I don’t really know the guy myself, but I kinda got the sense that he was into you. And he’s not out of your league.”

You shrugged and leaned back in the stool behind the counter, letting your head fall against the wall.

“I’m like, a six on a good day. And he’s-”

“About to walk into the store.”

“What?” you sat up quickly, nearly dropping your ice cream and toppling out of the stool as Steve entered the store, looking terribly out of place amongst the vibrantly colored scrunchies and charm bracelets hanging from the displays.

“Uh, hey?” you greeted, but it came out sounding more like a question.

“Hey,” he returned with a nervous smile. “You, uh, forgot your Coke.”

“Oh, uh, thanks. I didn’t even realize.”

You sat your bowl down to take the can from his outstretched hand.

He didn’t say anything, just looked around the store, his eyes never settling in one particular spot.

“Well, um, thanks.” you told him again after several long seconds of uncomfortable silence. “You didn’t have to bring it all the way over here.”

“Well, just. You paid for it, y’know?”

You nodded, watching as he rubbed the back of his neck.

“Is that… all?” you asked, confused as to why exactly he was still standing there.

“Yes. Well,” he stood up a little straighter and took another step closer to the counter. “No, actually. I wanted to know if you were free this weekend? And if you were, to ask if you maybe wanted to go out? With me, I mean.”

You stared at him for a few moments, unsure whether or not this was actually happening, only brought out of your thoughts by your coworker gesturing at you from behind Steve in a Hello?? fashion.

“I- Yes. Yes, absolutely. I would love that.” you replied finally, smiling at him.

You could see him physically relax at your response, a crooked grin replacing the look of apprehension on his face.

You tore off a piece of receipt paper from the register and scribbled your phone number down on it.

“Call any time after seven.”

“Awesome. I’ll talk to you tonight.”

You nodded, handing him the slip of paper.

“I’ll be looking forward to it.”

He left the store with a wave and a smile, and a promise to call you that evening.

“See!” your coworker said excitedly, rushing to the counter. “I told you! I’m never wrong about this kind of thing.”

You rolled your eyes at her but the smile didn’t leave your face.

----

Steve bounced back into Scoops, flourishing the paper with your number on it over his head for Robin to see.

“She said yes!” he laughed. “She gave me her number and told me to call her tonight. Holy shit, Rob! This is actually happening! Do you have any idea how long I’ve been dreaming about this?”

He watched as she reached through the partition, bringing out the whiteboard and putting a tally underneath both the “YOU SUCK” and the “YOU RULE” sides, making it 5:1.

“What?? Why do I suck?” he asked incredulously, looking at his friend in disbelief.

“Because you screwed it up the first time.”

“That’s not fair!”

“It’s not fair that you sent her back to work with shattered dreams, either.”

“Oh, come on.” he scoffed, “I think you’re being a little dramatic.”

“Maybe.” She shrugged. “We’ll see how you do on the actual date. Maybe you can make it five to two.”

#steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x reader #stranger things imagine #stranger things #steve harrington

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theshrubbery · 4 years

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Can I Be Close To You - snowbaz fake dating au ch1

I post this on ao3 but I fancied posting on here too ‘cause I really wanna start taking snowbaz writing requests and stuff but for that I figured I should post stuff first haha

SIMON

Baz is plotting something. I just know he is. I don’t care what Penny says, Baz is always plotting something and no one can persuade me otherwise. Understandably, after the last few times I’ve been sure that Baz was plotting against me and nothing actually happened, Penny has long since lost her faith in my judgement of him. Not that Penny really likes him all that much herself either anyways.

Baz is my roommate here at Watford, and he’s the poshest shitbag I have ever had the pleasure of meeting. Though meeting really is putting it lightly, really we were forced together back in our first year, forced to become roommates for the rest of our careers at Watford. Fan-fucking-tastic that was, best bloody day of my life, as if I hadn’t already felt like I’d been thrown in somewhere I didn’t belong, I just had to be shoved into an eight-year rooming contract with the richest twat in the entire school.

Watford is a pretty elite school, I think it’s militant at times but Penny drools over the place, thinks it’s the bread and butter of the entire academic world. I only got in through a scholarship I didn’t even want. The headmaster of the school scouted me from care when I was eleven after news got around about my successive high marks in all my schoolwork. The headmaster all but adopted me then took me in as his young prodigy with promises of a better life and the expectation that I was probably going to grow up to cure cancer, or something like that.

This entire school is entirely out of my league, full of rich, elitist people from rich, elitist families, who’d all likely burst an artery if they knew I was here—the headmaster had kept it under wraps, had secretly enrolled me a few days before term started and sent me on my merry way to the Hell that is sharing a room with Tyrannus Basilton Grim-Pitch. Yes. That is his real name. What a git.

Back to my point, though, I am actually, genuinely, positive that Baz is plotting something this time. He’s always watched me when he thinks I’m not looking (seriously, who does he think I am to leave my guard down around him, my sworn enemy, of course I notice him staring at me) but now it feels like he’s watching me with a purpose. His face twists up as though he has something to say but he just can’t get it out. It looks painful enough that I almost want to snap around and face him when he looks at me like that, I want to demand to know what he’s thinking if only to put him out of that misery. Or something like that, I guess.

“Baz isn’t plotting anything, Simon,” Penny says as we sit down at a table in the cafeteria for breakfast. I roll my eyes and pick up a small roll of bread, biting a chunk out of it with my teeth and replying with my mouth still full of food. No matter how many times Penny tells me off for this, I just can’t seem to break the habit. Although that seems to imply that I try—which I don’t.

“You don’t see the way he looks at me, Pen.” I swallow my mouthful of bread and lather a thick chunk of butter across the remains in my hands, then I eat that, too. “We’ve only been back a couple weeks but I can already feel the murderous intent. I keep catching him staring at me like he’s just waiting for the right moment to take me down.”

“Simon, are you sure Baz sees you as his enemy?” Penny asks me, raising her eyebrow skeptically as I reach for another bread roll and begin to slather it in butter. I’m ravenous.

“Of course,” I say, probably a little too loudly. “Literally, Pen, how many times has he tried to take me down? Remember when he pushed me down that flight of stairs?”

“I mean, that was kind of both your faults, really, Simon.” Penny gives me a pointed look and flips her thick hair over her shoulder. “I literally don’t know what you were expecting, fighting at the top of the stairs like that.”

“I mean the fight started in our room,” I tell her. I can’t understand how Penny doesn’t realise how blatantly obvious it is that Baz is out for my blood. “He’s the one that pushed me through our door and onto the landing. I bet that was his plan all along! To get me to the edge of the stairs and then punch me so I fell down!”

“Yeah. Or, he just got in a lucky punch. You didn’t see how sick he looked after he realised what he’d done.”

“Probably thinking about the court charges and prison sentences when he realised he actually almost killed me.”

“Don’t be dramatic, Simon.” Penny pats my arm across the table from where she sits opposite me almost sarcastically. “I’m sure he has better people to kill than you.”

“I don’t understand him at all,” I huff, reaching to pull a plate of bacon sandwiches towards me. I’m halfway through my second one when I see Baz enter the cafeteria through the heavy-set wooden doors at the far end of the room over Penny’s shoulder and I almost choke at the surprise, coughing embarrassingly loudly. My eyes burn and water as Penny runs around my side of the table and begins thumping me, way too hard I shall add, on the back in an attempt to get me to breathe again. The chunk of sandwich that was lodged in my throat flies back up into my mouth and I take a deep, heaving breath as I chew and swallow it down properly. Penny looks at me with the most hilariously disgusted face I think I have ever seen.

“You are actually disgusting, Simon Snow,” she says as she sits back down. I give her a smile in apology but Baz catches my attention.

Baz looks at me and snickers, quite clearly, at my reaction to his entering the room, though when he realises I’m watching, he immediately tampers down and pretends he’s simply amused at something one of his minions said (because I highly doubt a guy like Baz has anything other than minions, forget friends). For a moment I think Baz is going to ignore me after that initial surprise of seeing me staring straight back at him, but instead he chooses to sit the table behind ours, facing me, clearly in my line of vision. It’s as though he wants me to see him, or he wants to see me. For more of his fucking creepy stalking, I presume.

It’s a nightmare to go to class after that, knowing full well that Baz was going to be there and knowing full well I’d be sat right next to him at my desk. I suppose it’s better than it used to be in the younger years, when the tables were pushed together to form groups of six students at each. Now we’re older, they’re arranged in straight lines down the room, so rather than bashing elbows with Baz we now have an arms-length between us.

Not that it was my choice to sit here, stupid schools and their stupid seating plans, it’s a wonder I ever survived English with Baz breathing right next to me the entire time, writing in his posh, cursive handwriting and making my scrawl look illegibly pathetic.

Now, as I enter the class, Baz is already there, sitting straight at his desk and managing to look somehow both attentive and bored. He notices me as I enter, I see one of his crossed legs twitch beneath the table and his jaw suddenly clench. I see it from the other side of the room when he swallows and looks pointedly away from me.

I don’t know whether he’s humiliated at me having caught him laughing at me, or whether he’s finally got tired of trying to plot against me but whatever it is, I feel oddly lost without it. Having an enemy like Baz, someone always a step ahead, gives me a reason to get up in the morning. Because if I don’t get up I’m almost positive Baz would smother me with a pillow and my death would be pathetic rather than heroic. And although I don’t really think that Baz would murder me, I don’t like to take chances like that where I can help it.

The lesson passes the same as usual, in a hazy blur. I take notes but only because if I don’t keep my grades up I’ll lose my scholarship and be sent back to a god-awful care home, but I barely take any of the information in, I’m far too conscious of Baz today, even-more-so than usual. Something just seems off with him, though I don’t have the slightest idea what. He keeps glancing over at me, fidgeting, writing out notes only to stop mid-sentence and push his pen hard into the paper of his glaringly empty page.

Baz keeps running a hand through his hair, too, and I can’t help the swirling of anger in my gut when I think he must be copying me. I’ve known Baz for eight years, lived with him for nine months of the year each time, but I’ve never known him to be the type to fidget and muss his hair up. The great Basilton Pitch was always exceptionally put-together, if only to lord it over the rest of us peasants, always neat and tidy and always making out like nothing was wrong, even when I hear him sobbing in our en-suite shower at the end of the day when he thinks I’m not in the room.

At the end of the lesson he’d looked over at me like he’d forgotten I had eyes and could look right back. His face had coloured, a deep red against the bronze of his skin (Baz had inherited his looks off his mother, apparently, and she was Egyptian), and he’d gathered his things, stuffing them in his leather satchel, and left the room in a hurry.

I don’t see Baz for the rest of the day until last lesson, history, though he doesn’t sit anywhere near me, thank God. Despite this though, I still can’t concentrate, not with the knowledge that Baz is in the room. It doesn’t matter how many other people fill up the room, Baz is pompous enough to make me feel like it’s just the two of us. Everyone else feels like an extra in our on-going battle. I make as many notes as I can, fill out the worksheets the teacher hands out to the best of my ability despite the churning in my stomach that tells me something is wrong, probably warning me that Baz is going to have me as soon as we’re out of lesson, he’s probably itching to fight me like we haven’t in years. We’re long overdue, really. But instead, rather than a fight, Baz volunteers to collect the worksheets for the teacher, and he leaves me until last.

My heart thrums as he gets nearer, the adrenaline beginning to surge through my veins at the prospect of another fight with him. Baz stands there, in front of my desk, the stack of stapled worksheets cradled in the crook of his arm and balanced on his hip as he looks uncomfortably down at me. Baz is taller than me, by at least three inches, so he loves to remind me, and to meet my eyes he has to lower that smug chin.

“Snow,” Baz says, pursing his lips. I panic and try to come up with something clever.

“Actually it’s raining,” I stupidly say instead. Baz huffs at me, shifts where he stands, and sucks his lips into his mouth as he looks out the window to confirm, letting the lower one slip through his teeth as he releases them. He looks back to me.

“Astute observation, Snow, you complete bloody moron.” Baz’s voice is flat and biting and it makes me want to punch him.

“What do you want, Baz?” I ask him, leaning forwards in my chair.

“Your worksheets,” answers Baz, holding out a well-cared-for hand. I make to give him my sheets but then yank them back at the last second, enjoying the grimace Baz gives me. I’m pretty sure I almost hear him growl.

“No,” I smirk. “What do you actually want?” Baz looks almost dumbfounded for a moment, like I’d asked him to reveal all his deepest darkest secrets, like I’d found something out he didn’t want me to know. Then his features settle again and he snatches the paper out my hand.

“Just meet me back in our room after lesson, I need to talk to you about something.”

“What do you mean? You’re not meant to tell your enemy your plans for murder, that just takes all the fun out of it.”

“Fuck—Snow, just—” Baz shakes his head and slams my paper down into the pile at his hip, already turning to storm away as he composes himself. “Just be there, okay? This is important.”

Baz doesn’t catch me giving him the middle finger as he walks away, but the teacher does, which is really just my luck, and I’m glad that Penny isn’t in this class with me to laugh at my misfortune.

“You want me to what?” I shout, incredulous. Did I actually just hear what I thought I heard with my very own two ears? I know that I’m prone to idiocy, I zone out a lot, mishear, all of that, but seriously. If I thought being caught giving Baz the finger was misfortune, I must have been stupid. This right here is misfortune.

“You heard me,” Baz says, leaning back against the door with his arms crossed as though he expects me to try and break free, escape, run and never come back. Honestly, I really am fucking considering it.

“I swear to God,” I say with a humourless laugh, running a hand down my face, the other propping me up on the bed. “I knew you were plotting something, Baz, but this? This just takes the fucking cake. Are you serious?”

“Yes, Snow, I am serious, and I’d appreciate it if you’d start treating it as such.”

“You told your dad. You have a boyfriend. To get under his skin. And it completely backfired?”

“Correct.” It looks like it pains Baz to admit it. Good.

“And now you want me to pretend to be your boyfriend over half term at your house?”

“I always thought you were ignorant but I guess your ears do work after all, very well done, Snow,” Baz says patronisingly. The sound of his voice irks me and I all I want to do is refuse. But… there’s something in Baz’s face that tells me there’s more to this than meets the eye. I hate Baz, really I do, but I can’t stand to see him looking so vulnerable. I still don’t know how to answer him though, and the silence in the room is making the atmosphere heavy.

“You’re gay?” I ask instead of replying. I never considered that Baz could be gay, he always has girls fawning over him. My own girlfriend, Agatha, left me for a shot at Baz last year though that wound is long closed, I’m not sure me and Agatha were ever meant to be together in the first place. Still, though, having her leave me to throw herself at the enemy was a kick to the balls. I never understood why Baz had always turned all these girls down, he could probably have his pick of any of the girls in our year if he so wanted to (except Penny, because Penny both hates Baz and already has a boyfriend, Micah, who lives in America) so this really would explain it.

“Entirely,” Baz confirms with a nod. “Absolutely, one-hundred percent. You?”

“I…” I’ve never actually thought about it, and I can’t think of the right answer to say before Baz interrupts me.

“If you do this I promise I won’t kill you in your sleep.”

“Like you’d kill me anyways, it would be too much paperwork and shame to your family name.”

“Simon,” Baz says, and I can’t help but give him my full attention at that. “Please. Just do me this one favour. I’ll do whatever you want after the week is up, I’ll leave you alone or whatever the fuck it is you want from me. Just do me this one favour and don’t make me a fool before my father.”

“You’re a fool anyways,” I murmur under my breath, unable to help myself. I look up at Baz, really taking him in, and I realise just how serious this is to him, it feels like unnecessary cruelty to say no. Who knows what he might do to me if I refuse to help him. And besides… how bad could it really be? Jesus Christ I can’t believe I’m even thinking of doing this in the first place, what the fuck is wrong with me?

“I’ll do it,” I say, and Baz’s head snaps up so fast he hits it against the door. He looks at me, wide-eyed, like he’d already been planning his escape from his family and which country to start his new life in. I don’t know why this is such a big deal to Baz, but I suppose I’ll find out. At least I’ll get to see if he lives in a stupid mansion like I��ve always pictured he does.

BAZ

My stomach bottoms out when Snow agrees. I’d never actually expected him too. Christ above, I’m fake-dating Simon bloody Snow. I almost feel guilty that he doesn’t know how badly I want him, that he’s giving me everything I’ve ever craved in the cruellest way possible. It’s selfish, really, that I’m taking him for granted like this, but there’s no-one else I can trust enough. Maybe that’s because I’ve been hopelessly in love with Snow for years, but it doesn’t matter. At least for a week, I’ll have a taste of what could be, in a different life, I can look into those blue eyes and stroke that golden hair under the guise of fake-love, and when the week is up, I can come back to Watford and die of heartache over what could have been.

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justatiredghost · 4 years

Text

Fixes to the Timeline Ch7

Dave faces his biggest challenge being here in the future: surviving Klaus' family.

The Hargreeves have never been particularly good at pleasantries, so it was really thanks to Vanya that the conversation didn’t immediately fizzle out once they all got seated and started digging in.

“So,” she said, looking like she’d thought a long time about what she was going to say. Klaus couldn’t help but wonder how many questions she’d prepared ahead of time. “How did you two meet?”

“Oh, you know,” Dave said with that goofy grin of his that Klaus loved so much. “I like to think it was fate, or something. I mean, out of all of space and time, he got dropped literally right in front of me.”

It was a ridiculously sweet sentiment and Klaus had to bite his tongue to stop himself from making a joke about them both being half naked at the time. Not that either of them had really had time to think about anything like that. While Klaus’ inclination was always to ruin the moment, especially around his siblings, he knew this couldn’t be easy for Dave, talking frankly about their relationship when he’d had to keep that part of himself quiet for so long. He didn’t want to make it any harder for him and instead just took his hand under the table, squeezing it gently. He did roll his eyes a little though to keep up appearances.

“That’s sweet,” Vanya said, smiling at them.

“And what is it that you do?” Luther asked. Apparently he also had a list of questions.

“I mean, I got drafted,” Dave said a bit evasively. “Fought in a war, that sort of thing.”

“Right, Vietnam,” Luther said uncertainly. It was obvious he’d been asking for a bit more than that but didn’t exactly know how to prompt him along. Unfortunately Diego was much more blunt.

“And before that?” he said.

“Oh, you know, odd jobs,” Dave said. “I worked at a few restaurants, a couple bars, construction yards. Pretty much wherever I could find.”

He and Klaus both knew they were trying to figure out if he was going to be dead weight like Klaus, or if he was actually going to make himself useful. Their intentions were good, Klaus supposed, and understandable given the kinds of people he used to associate with. But it still wasn’t fair, he was trying so hard to be different now. And Dave deserved a chance to prove how amazing he was without the interrogation.

“And now?” Diego continued to push. “What are your plans here?”

“Come on, Diego,” Klaus groaned. “What does it even matter? Give him time to settle in at least. Time travel’s a bitch.”

“I know,” Diego said pointedly because of course they’d all done it by now.

“Fifty years is a big change,” Vanya said, voice still soft but at least they were listening now. “It isn’t fair to expect him to know what he’s supposed to do immediately. And he just came back from fighting in a war.”

“Exactly,” Klaus exclaimed, grateful to her for stepping in.

“Man, you guys are such buzzkills,” Ben groaned.

“You aren’t even drinking,” Luther pointed out.

“I’m gonna need to if you guys don’t stop bumming me out. Come on, we’re supposed to be celebrating here. Unless, of course, you want to ruin the meal Mom worked so hard making for us.”

That shut Diego up at least.

Klaus grinned. They were all still a little weird about talking back to Ben. But Ben had no qualms about taking full advantage of that. Maybe Klaus had been a bad influence on him all these years. At least it meant tonight might actually go okay, especially with Ben and Vanya looking out for them.

From what Dave knew of Vanya, she had often been separated from the family, made to feel like she wasn't one of them. So when he saw her sitting slightly apart from the rest after dinner, he decided to join her. Besides, the conversation was rapidly descending into roughhousing, and Dave’s injury wouldn’t let him join in, so he dropped down into the seat next to her.

“Wow, aren’t they a rowdy bunch?” Dave said. “Are they always like this?” Considering Klaus definitely was he thought he knew the answer, but at least it was something to talk about.

“Honestly, this is better than usual,” she said with a small chuckle. “You should have seen them at dad’s funeral. Diego and Luther were at each other’s throats.”

“This is an improvement?” Dave said in disbelief, watching as Klaus jumped onto Diego’s back, trying to get the bag of chips he was currently trying to devour. Luther bodily picked them both up when Ben snuck in and snagged it from Diego and jumped back out of their reach, laughing.

“Yeah, it’s kind of nice seeing them all like this. Growing up we were more concerned with just trying to survive dad, I guess we have a lot of catching up to do.”

“Ah, I guess I did hear a bit about that,” Dave said. “Klaus doesn’t really like to talk about it. What I have heard is pretty fucked up though. Did you guys really only get a half hour a week to play?”

“Yeah, that really wasn’t the worst thing he ever did though.”

Dave hadn’t actually wanted to talk about depressing shit, not when they were actually all trying to get to know each other, so instead he changed the subject. “Hey, you know, I bet if we worked together we could get the chips from them.” He leaned in conspiratorially, pleased with himself when she smiled and leaned in a little as well. “If I go in as a distraction, you can snag it from them easy.”

“Are you really hungry after dinner?” she asked.

“Nah, but it’s the principle of the thing,” he said sagely.

“And you’d really sacrifice yourself? Are you sure you want to put yourself in the line of fire against all of them?”

“I was a soldier, you know,” he said with a wink.

She smiled and shook her head. “I have a better idea.”

The air seemed to hum suddenly. Most of them didn’t seem to notice, too caught up in their game, until the bag was suddenly ripped out of their hands and went flying towards Dave and Vanya. He flinched, but there was no need to worry apparently because Vanya easily snatched it out of the air easily.

“Whoa,” Dave said, staring at her in awe as she blushed and looked away, trying not to smile. “That was amazing. Can you teach me how to do that?”

That got a laugh out of her.

Dave made the mistake of going to the kitchen to get another coke alone and ended up cornered by Diego and Luther on his way back. It was kind of funny, Luther trying to look intimidating but mostly just looking uncomfortable. He was still huge, though, and Diego was plenty intimidating all on his own.

“So,” Diego said, standing much too close as he cracked his knuckles. “You ever do drugs?”

“Oh,” Dave laughed nervously, glancing over to where Klaus was animatedly talking with Ben and Vanya. They were clear on the other side of the room but hopefully he could get over here before Dave got himself murdered if this conversation went as poorly as he thought it might. He thought about lying but there probably wasn’t much point in it. He was a terrible liar. “I may have indulged a bit in my youth.”

Technically that was true, he had been younger a month ago. The army was practically handing them out, more than encouraging them all to take a cocktail that would keep them on their feet as they were all run ragged. Dave figured that little detail was better left unsaid, but apparently that didn’t matter because that still seemed to be the wrong answer given the way Diego’s eyes narrowed and Luther attempted to look disapproving.

“Any thoughts to ‘indulge’ again?” Diego asked and Dave couldn’t help but notice his hand playing with one of the knives strapped to his chest.

“No, of course not,” Dave said and he didn’t need to fake the sincerity. “Klaus wants to get clean, I’m not going to do anything to jeopardize that.

“You sure about that?” Diego said, voice full of scorn. “Guys like you, you’re all the same.”

“Hey, that’s not fair,” Dave said because he always did have a bad habit of talking before thinking and maybe getting in an argument the first time he hung out with Klaus’ family was a terrible idea, but he just couldn’t stand the thought of anyone belittling Klaus and that’s really what Diego was doing, wasn’t it? Implying that Klaus couldn’t change despite how hard he was trying? “Klaus has been working so hard, he deserves more than a little faith here.”

“He’s right.”

They all turned to find Five standing there casually with his hands in his pockets.

“Thank you,” Dave said vehemently, raising a hand for emphasis.

“Now, hold on,” Diego said. “That’s not what I meant and you know it.”

“We’re just worried about Klaus,” Luther said.

“Yeah, it’s you we aren’t so sure about,” Diego said, pointing an accusatory finger at Dave.

“You forget I was stuck with him for quite some time before I could bring him to the present,” Five said. “I could have killed him at any time if he turned out to be not worth saving.”

“Great, great,” Dave said with false cheer, once again not sure if he was joking or not.

“Don’t worry,” Five said, apparently having pity on him. “Do you really think I would have gone to all that effort if I thought it might have been a waste of time? Now, if we’re done here, I believe Dave owes me a rematch.”

“Whatever,” Diego muttered, apparently giving up as he and Luther retreated. He gave Luther a shove and Dave could have sworn he heard him mutter, “This is your fault,” and Luther shoved him back.

“I thought you’d never ask,” Dave said with a relieved sigh. The perfect excuse to get out of this incredibly awkward conversation. “Thanks. I’m pretty sure you just saved my life. Again. I don’t think they like me very much.”

“I wouldn’t worry too much, we hate most people. Barely tolerate each other, actually,” Five said with a shrug. You’ll grow on them like you grew on me. Like fungus.”

“I like mushrooms,” Dave said, perking up at that. He caught sight of Klaus heading their way, no doubt wondering what was keeping him. It apparently did wonders for Dave’s confidence and his impulse to ruin any tension with terrible jokes as well because he added, “Also, thanks, Five. You’re a fun-gi.”

“Aaaah yeah, finger guns!” Klaus exclaimed, overhearing, raising his hands to do just that.

“You don’t need to say it out loud,” Five muttered, rubbing at his temple like he was getting a migraine. “Diego? I changed my mind. Please come back here and stab them both.”

“Are you encouraging a minor to gamble?” Klaus asked in mock disapproval as he leaned against the back of Dave’s chair, arms crossed. This left him at the perfect height to place his chin on Dave’s shoulder as he watched.

“Fuck you,” Five said, not even bothering to look up. Thankfully there wasn’t really any anger behind the comment and it got a chuckle out of Dave so he considered it a success.

“I’m not sure you can really call it gambling,” Dave said.

“It definitely is,” Five said. “You really are much more devious than I would have expected.”

“Devious?” Klaus repeated in disbelief. “Are we talking about the same Dave? The one who saves earthworms from sidewalks and feeds stray cats his own dinner?”

“Hey, come on,” Dave said, turning to face him and mock whispering. “I’m trying to look cool in front of your brother.”

“Well that’s been a losing battle from the beginning,” Five muttered.

“Sorry, babe,” Klaus said, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek.

“He’s just mad because he’s losing,” Dave said, holding up his current hand of cards.

“I still think you’re cool. Well, kinda,” he added with a teasing wink.

“Hey, I’ll take it.”

“With all the handicaps we put in place to make things more fair, you better be winning,” Five shot back.

“You wish,” Dave laid his cards out on the table with a smug grin and Five tossed his stack down with a sigh.

“Fine, what do you want?”

“I want,” Dave said thoughtfully. “For you to compliment someone you haven’t talked to in a while.”

“Easy enough,” Five said, standing up and leaving Dave to gather up the cards.

“What was that all about?” Klaus asked, taking Five’s seat and watching as Dave shuffled the deck.

“We started that while we were hunkered down in hiding after he saved my life,” he said. “I suggested it, he’s a hard one to get to know. Whoever wins gets to ask the other person to do something. Usually it’s just to answer a question, but I thought we could use a little levity here.”

Klaus glanced over to where Five was talking to Diego. Five patted his shoulder as he turned to leave and Diego looked like he was trying very hard to remain stoic but was obviously equal parts confused and pleased. Klaus couldn’t help but snicker at that.

“Sometimes I think you’re too powerful, Dave.”

Dave just grinned back.

One thing Dave was realizing was that this family did not like to sit still. That was fine by him, he liked the energy just fine, but it did mean he kept finding himself confronted with a new sibling every few minutes. At least it was Ben who dropped into the seat next to him when Klaus got up to harass Diego after being egged on. The ribbing was all in good fun and thankfully not intentionally cruel so things were going well. According to Klaus, that was a work in progress.

“Hanging in there?” Ben asked.

“Still alive, for now,” Dave replied with a smile.

“Hopefully they’re not giving you too hard of a time.”

“I get it, it’s all good,” Dave said. “I suppose it’s your turn now, though. Go ahead, give it to me straight, I can take it.”

“Don’t worry,” Ben said with a laugh. “So far you’re good in my book.”

“Really?”

“What, you want me to have a problem with you?”

“No, it’s just, I kinda figured, out of everyone, you’d be the one with something to say. Diego gave me the shovel talk first thing but you haven’t really said a thing.”

“Look, Klaus tells me things he doesn’t usually tell the others,” Ben began.

“Uh oh.”

“It’s obvious you mean a lot to him. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him this happy. I mean, sure, he always acts like it, but it’s never been this genuine. You make him a better person and it’s just really nice to see him this way. So yeah, I don’t have a problem with you.”

“Oh,” Dave said, his voice breaking.

“You good?”

“Yeah, yeah, all good, just-- I dunno, I guess I always hoped I made him even a tiny bit as happy as he makes me. It’s just good to know.”

“Rest assured, he is utterly hopeless.”

“So am I,” Dave said, glancing over at Klaus, feeling so warm and fond.

After the little confrontation earlier, Luther seemed relieved not to have to try to be threatening. Diego for his part seemed to be trying a bit harder to behave himself. Although he was watching Dave very closely, like he was trying to find something to hate about him. To his credit, Dave managed to keep his cool and pretended not to notice.

Maybe it was because of his close watch that Diego eventually seemed to relax and warm up to him as the night progressed. Well, as warm as Diego ever was with anyone who wasn’t his siblings or Eudora. But he saw the way he and Klaus interracted, how soft Dave was and how happy they both were together. Or the way he stuck up for Klaus and seemed to truly mean it.

They all constantly poked fun at each other, Klaus understood that, he didn’t take it personally if the comments hit a bit too close to home, but Dave was always quick to counter, to heap on the praise and drag everyone up with him. That’s just how Dave was and Klaus couldn’t help but smile to himself, feeling immensely proud of Dave even as he tried to brush off any compliments because, really, that was much too embarrassing. He knew Dave would win over his family, though. He was good like that.

He was even managing to engage Luther who was usually not the greatest at this sort of thing. Luther could be a bit awkward with strangers at the best of times, but the added pressure of Dave being an important part of Klaus’ life as well as Diego pushing for most of the night for none of them to like him seemed to have left him a bit lost for words. But that’s always where Dave shined the most, finding anyone who was uncomfortable and making them feel like they belonged.

Between him, Klaus’ relentless antics, and Ben and Five discouraging any arguments, things honestly weren’t as bad as Klaus had been expecting. It actually had been a little fun, even if it still had been an incredibly long night and he was incredibly relieved when he and Dave could finally escape. They hadn’t even reached the bedroom door yet when Klaus started pulling off his shirt with a heavy sigh. He tossed it in the corner once inside and stretched as Dave closed the door and flopped down onto the bed still fully clothed, arm over his face.

“You good there, my man?” Klaus asked, sitting down next to him and patting his knee.

“Yeah,” Dave said unconvincingly. “So, how do you think I did? Do they hate me yet?”

“Are you kidding?” Klaus said, leaning down to kiss his cheek, taking the opportunity to snuggle up against him as Dave raised an arm for him to slip under. “You were perfect and they all love you.”

“You sure about that? I mean, I know I didn’t get stabbed, but it’s a little hard to tell how they feel.”

“Trust me, in this house? Not getting stabbed is practically a form of affection.”

“They are quite the bunch, aren’t they?” Dave said.

“I mean, granted I was probably a bigger warning than they’ll ever be, but really if you had any sense this would be the queue for you to make a break for it.”

“Never,” Dave said, kissing his cheek and Klaus couldn’t help but smile. Dave was quiet for a moment before he spoke again. “I know things haven’t always been great with you and your family, but I’m glad you had them around after you got back.”

“Yeah, about that,” Klaus said, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly and avoiding eye contact. “It took me a while before I finally opened up about everything that happened. Most of them didn’t even know I was gone.”

“They didn’t?” Dave said, looking heartbroken. Klaus hurried to explain, not wanting to give the wrong impression.

“To be fair, I used to always disappear, it’s really no big deal. And hardly any time had passed for them. Eventually they started noticing I was a bit different, I think. Well, they expected me to give up on being sober, I guess, so after all the end of the world business was taken care of and I was still at it, they finally started asking the right questions.”

“You never were great at opening up,” Dave said, voice fond if a little sad, bumping his nose gently against Klaus’.

“Even I can’t dodge questions forever,” he said. “Well, and Ben was around by then and he wouldn’t let me. Five knew I’d time traveled and Diego knew I’d lost someone and Ben kept yelling at them to just ask me and eventually I cracked. I’m sorry, I wanted to tell them all about you, but it’s hard when no one takes you seriously.”

“I get it, you don’t have anything to apologize for.”

“Do you,” Klaus began and then hesitated because was he really ready for this conversation? But he owed it to Dave especially after everything he was doing for him. “Do you want to find your family?”

Dave laughed involuntarily, sounding almost nervous. He paused for a moment, as if he’d surprised himself with his own reaction and took a deep breath.

“No,” he said eventually. “I don’t think that would be a very good idea.”

“Why not? I mean, I know all this shit is weird, but everyone knows about the Umbrella Academy here, time travel is probably the least weird thing they’ve heard about us.”

“I don’t know,” Dave said, looking away. “It’s been fifty years, man. That’s a long time. They don’t need me dropping in on them now, they have their own lives.”

“I mean, I know it’s not really the same thing, but Five was gone for fifteen years and we were all still glad to see him,” Klaus pointed out.

“Five is great, though,” Dave said.

“So are you,” Klaus countered.

“But what good would it do?” Dave asked, suddenly sounding exhausted. “Either they’re great and I’m just getting in the way of that, dredging up any grief or loss, or they’re terrible and there’s nothing I can really do to help. I think it’s better this way, it’s not like they really lost much.”

“What are you talking about? They lost a whole person,” Klaus exclaimed.

“No, I mean-- fuck, this is gonna sound fucked up but, if I stay out of their lives, at least I can’t disappoint them. I’ve been telling myself that since before I got drafted.”

“Hey, come on,” Klaus said, putting as much emotion behind the words as he could because he hated how Dave was talking about himself. “You’re not gonna disappoint them. You’re amazing.”

Dave gave him a sad smile but instead of arguing he just pulled Klaus closer, wrapping him in his arms. “You’re here. That’s all the family I need right now.”

#klaus hargreeves #klave #dave katz #the umbrella academy #umbrella academy #fixes to the timeline #fanfic #my fic

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robbyrobinson · 4 years

Text

Top 8 Insane MJ Theories

1. Michael Jackson is Dave Dave. Dave Dave was originally born as David Charles Rothenberg who was set on fire by his father over a custody dispute when he was six-years-old. He survived but suffered third-degree burns. He was befriended by Michael and was connected with him for years. On September 3, 2009, Dave Dave appeared on Larry King Live to discuss the funeral arrangements for Jackson. What made many people suspicious was how eerily similar he sounded to Michael. Such as having certain verbal quirks like saying "Encino house" instead of "houses in Encino." The way he spoke about Michael's legacy also appeared to be speaking entirely in the third person. When you watch the interview, it's noticeable that he was nervous throughout. It could be chalked up to him being anxious about being on television, or, as some belief, it's Michael trying to get into character. Michael also had a history of disguising himself and one dressed up as a mayor for his "Ghost" short film. So it would not be out of the ordinary for Michael to get some makeup and dress up as Dave Dave if he was theoretically alive. However, anyone can easily sound like Michael and it strikes me as odd that if it was Michael, why would he keep the same voice if he did not want to be found out? On a last note, there was a WordPress account that posited that Dave Dave prior to dying was using his Myspace account to pretend to be Michael because MJ's followers were that gullible to believe him, but with no one coming out to confess authorship of the doc, I find it dubious at best.

2. Michael is the Archangel Michael: An insane theory, but it does make some small sense. Kind of. So, "Michael" is Hebrew for "Who is like God?" Michael would make it abundantly clear throughout his life that he was deeply faithful and believed fervently in God. Initially, Michael was not actually going to be the seventh child of the Jackson family, but due to the death of Marlon's twin brother shortly after his birth, this gives many theorizers the idea that Michael's birth was of some divine nature. Some believe that Michael was sent to be a guide for people to bring them into the light citing that with his death, the world became a little darker. I've already made it clear that I'm a skeptic, and just because Michael shared the name to one of the only named archangels in the Hebrew Bible doesn't mean that he is divine, or literally an angel. But it is interesting all the same.

3. Egyptian Connections: There is a rich assortment of Egyptian artifacts at the Field Museum of Natural History in Chicago with several well-preserved mummies. There is also a bust made out of limestone of a woman with prominent cheeks and eyes with a chipped off nose. It bears a striking resemblance to the late King of Pop. Aside from that, there was also a painting of a young man that also resembled Jackson, well after his vitiligo and the plastic surgeries. Some claim this as proof of Michael being a time traveler, or that he was reincarnated over several centuries and is an old soul. Or, Michael allegedly saw the bust and decided to model himself after it.

4. BeLIEvers: They are a group dedicated to the idea that Michael faked his death and demonstrate this through either album of his or "sightings." For instance, one album claims to have the subliminal message "I live" written on Michael's lower lip. They also look for slip-ups from the Jackson family or have gone as far as to say that Michael arranged for his entire funeral to be a farse saying that people were laughing or smiling at what would typically be a somber event. Even though y'know, oftentimes people laugh or smile at funerals because they remembered some of the good times they've had with the person they loved?

5. Muzan = Michael Jackson. More of a comedic one, but some like to say that rather than dying, Michael merely inserted himself into the eternal media of anime as Muzan Kibutsuji, the main antagonist of the anime and manga series Demon Slayer. In some ways, it makes sense. While shapeshifting is an ability Kibutsuji has, his default one bears a resemblance to Jackson's outfit in the Smooth Criminal music video. In the manga, Kibutsuji was an ordinary human but suffered from a rare illness that should've killed him at 20. His doctor made an antidote (prototype) from the Blue Spider Lily but instead transformed him into a demon who couldn't walk into the sun again. Sounds similar to Michael calling himself Peter Pan.

6. He could predict the future. Apparently, he was supposed to have been in the World Trade Center's towers when 9/11 happened but overslept. In his album "Blood on the Dance Floor," Michael is depicted in front of a city with smoke in the background. In front of him is a clock: his arms point to a 9 and an 11, thus implying that he is referring to 9/11. Additionally, many take the stance that his hands are situated 8 and 10 meaning 8:50. The attacks themselves took place at 8:46 AM. The "blood" is attributed to the blood that was shed that day.

7. Cloning. The real Jackson allegedly died when he had that accident when he was doing a commercial for Pepsi. Alternatively, some claim that the Jackson that was announcing the This is It world tour was actually fake and the clone was the one that died on June 25, 2009. Others also infer that Prince "Blanket" Jackson was a clone of his father inspired by the successful cloning of Dolly the Sheep.

8. Michael was murdered by the Illuminati. Don't believe in the Illuminati myself. There was one once, but they were enlightened thinkers rather than a satanic organization. MK Ultra was a real thing that the CIA tried to do that was essentially a mind control program. This theory states that celebrities were set in place to dumb down the media to make the public more susceptible to brain control. Michael was apart of the operation but later started to stray from his intended path. When that happened, the Powers That Be struck back with child molestation allegations and spread insane rumors to demonize Jackson. And, due to the idea that they sacrifice celebrities as part of blood rituals to collect more wealth for themselves, this was believed to be Jackson's fate. Jackson himself said constantly that he was afraid that he'd be killed. And he wasn't that big by then until his death in 2009 where his music was sold and topped the charts.

#BeLIEvers #Michael Jackson #death hoax #illuminati #David Rothenberg #Dave Dave #Demon Slayer #muzan kibutsuji #theories #archangel michael #bible #angel #angels

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slytherin-puffskein · 5 years

Text

i promise you.

summary: At long last, Barnaby Lee decides to ask Laurent that one faithful question. A question that, if answered positively, would lead to a wedding.

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notes: implied nsfw themes

- - -

A mere piece of paper more than enough to make Laurent King over think and jump to the craziest, most unlikely conclusions throughout the day. While he was supposed to get some rather important work done, his entire focus was fixed on what had happened in the morning, uneasiness throning in his mind and gifting him with sweaty palms. A small note, bearing Barnaby’s all too recognizable writing, four words etched against it. He had to fight with their Kneazle for a good five minutes in order to get it, the cat having convinced itself that the note was in fact a new toy.

We need to talk.

Who wouldn’t assume the worst scenario following such message? Questions had been quick to swarm Laurent’s mind, thundering against his skull and preluding to a headache. Why would Barnaby want to talk to him, and why would he express the need to announce it on a note? Couldn’t it have waited for tonight? What had been on Barnaby’s mind exactly? Soon enough an assumption had broken into his thoughts, as blinding as the sun and worsening his dizziness. He wants to break up with me, that’s it. After years of being together, before and after graduation, he wants to end it all. Why? Did he meet another guy? No, that’s not it... has he grown tired of me? After all, I’m pretty... intense. Or has he--

He was unable to pursue his own thoughts as he was brought back to reality, the fanged geraniums he was tending to now trying to bite his fingers off. Reluctantly he shoved all of his worries in a faraway corner of his mind, and focused on his work. However, what he had been fearing came fairly soon: the time to go back home. Unprompted, fear slid back into his mind, sticking to his brain like black mold.

We need to talk. It echoed in his mind, jumping around and leading way to a headache that was pressing against his forehead. As he faced the cottage’s wooden door he hesitated before finally going inside, all hope fleeing from him.

Questions were about to slip off his lips until he noticed the living room was dark, with no trace of his boyfriend. Eyebrows furrowing, he scanned the room in an attempt to find something that might tell him what was going on, and at last his eye caught a glimpse of light that was coming from the dining room. Quietly, he made his way there, mindlessly tying up his hair with the headband that has been around his wrist. Tying my hair. I do that when I’m stressed, right? Right. This is ridiculous... did I do something wrong? Or is he just tired of me? I should just shut up and see what happens. Or not. Why would I shut up? Why would I keep quiet? Why would he break up with me anyway? We’ve been happy, right? Oh yeah, we’ve been really happy, and--

Thoughts swirled inside of his mind in a hurricane-like fashion, and his heart came to a full stop as he finally stepped into the dining room.

Candles rose atop the table, small flames burning brightly and providing enough light for Laurent to spot colourful petals scattered around. A heavenly smell filled the room, one that reminded Laurent of his favourite meal. What was happening, exactly? No answer came to him as his gaze finally landed on Barnaby Lee, who was standing near a chair with a smile etched on his features. One that hid anxiety, Laurent could clearly see it. A thought slithered into his mind, whispering nonsense he would be able to believe anyway, considering how anxious and confused he was feeling: It’s his way to break up with you. Nice dinner, then scram! It’s only to soothe the wound. Nothing else. He’s just too thoughtful.

He opened his mouth as if speak, but Barnaby was quicker. “H-Hey! How was work? J-Just fine, right? You told me you had to work on fanged geraniums. They weren’t... too mean, right?”

What on Earth is going on. Laurent found himself answering anyway. “I got my fingers bitten a few times, but hey, that comes with the job I suppose.” He forced out an awkward giggle, one he couldn’t believe at all. This is so fake. He looks so fake. I look fake. What is he hiding!?

“Oh! I... I assumed it might have gone wrong. Your hair are up, and you do it when you are either stressed or focused, or both. So I assumed it... it...” And he trailed off, as if he had forgotten what he had meant to say. Silence swelled in the room.

Untying his hair and letting them fall on his shoulders, Laurent gazed up at Barnaby. “Ah, um... yeah, I had to focus quite a lot...” And then, gesturing to the table. “What’s all this for?”

Barnaby beamed in response, puffing out his chest with pride. “A gift! You saw my note, right? I-I felt like it’s been a while since we had a proper date! Not one in a restaurant, one where everything is homemade and filled with love! I-I planned everything to spoil you! Nice meal, cuddles on the couch, just you and--WOAH”

Laurent had failed to hold himself back. With no hesitation, he had pulled Barnaby into the biggest hug while he was still speaking, knocking the air off his chest. Waves of relief washed over him and relaxed his muscles, and there was no way he could wipe off his smile anytime soon. He had jumped to conclusions. Thank Merlin he had jumped to conclusions. Having Barnaby break up with him would have been the worst thing for Laurent, and now he just had his confirmation that it wouldn’t be happening. At last, he allowed himself to breathe freely, freed from that weight that has been sitting on his chest ever since he had read the note. “W-What’s wrong, Lau...?”

Laurent was pulled out from his thoughts, and he simply buried his face into his boyfriend’s chest before answering: “Your note... was so ambiguous. Let’s say I got scared something back would happen...”

Barnaby softly hummed, curling his arms around Laurent and pulling him closer. “Nothing bad will happen to us, Laurent. I promise.” And to punctuate his claims, he pressed a kiss on his forehead. That was when something caught Laurent’s attention: while his heartbeat was calm and steady, Barnaby’s was erratic, as if his chest was about to burst up. “Come on.” The latter whispered gently. “Sit down, and let me show you some homemade Lee cooking!”

“You know that I’m the one who showed you the recipe for my favourite meal, right?” Laurent giggled.

“Yup.” Barnaby acknowledged, pulling Laurent’s chair. “But there’s a special ingredient, one only I can make: Barnaby love!”

- - -

Barnaby Lee has had an idea ever since he and Laurent graduated from Hogwarts, School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. It was an idea that followed him wherever he went, one that lulled him to sleep and brought on sweet dreams, but also one that seized him with an odd mix of fear and excitement that made him feel like his heart would explode.

That idea was to marry Laurent Dorian King.

But he couldn’t just drop on one knee and ask. No way he’s doing that, because Laurent didn’t deserve such proposal. He had promised himself one thing: to give Laurent the sweetest, most romantic proposal that he shall never forget. One that will make him feel about just as happy as he makes Barnaby feel on the daily. One that will make him have that beautiful smile of his, that Barnaby cannot get enough of.

He had immediately figured out a homemade dinner was the best way to go. What was purer, what was better than that? A fancy restaurant would have been crowded, loud, and would have left them with no intimacy. By staying in their cottage, Barnaby was providing them all the calm and peace they needed, which only made it more romantic to his eyes.

As great as his strategy sounded to him, however, he found himself crushing under unbearable stress only because of a word and a word only: might. Laurent might accept his proposal. He might burst into tears of joy and hug him and accept... or he might refuse. Laugh in his face and walk away. He couldn’t deny that while he had sweet dreams over his future proposal, he also had nightmares.

A wedding should be expected. A proposal should be a surprise, his father had once said. Probably the only decent advice he had ever given him. You cannot simply ambush your partner with the big question, you have to know that it has been in both of your minds as of late. Both of them must have considered marriage, and then eagerly waited for the other to do the first step. The thing was, had Laurent considered marrying Barnaby? Had he considered it as much Barnaby considered marrying Lau? A question deprived of answer that haunted him.

Today, however, was the big day. He was going to propose to Laurent. He was going to give him the best date he has even been on, and then he will drop on one knee and ask the question.

Or not, a voice snickered in his mind as he was filling two glasses of wine. They were now eating dessert, strawberry panna cotta, and worry clouded Barnaby’s mind. Certainty became doubt, and excitement became anxiety, Maybe wine will calm me down. Dear Merlin, please let wine calm myself down. I can’t drink too much, though. No way I’m proposing when drunk! Way to make a fool of myself!

“I didn’t know you could make panna cotta!” Laurent suddenly exclaimed, wonder filling his eyes.

Barnaby was pulled out from his thoughts, which he greatly appreciated. “I didn’t know either! You have no idea how many times I tried and failed... I was close to give up, but then I did it! Without using magic!”

In fact, everything they had eaten has been made without the help of magic, a fact that made Barnaby’s heart swell with pride. Laurent’s smile only became bigger, and Barnaby took no shame in admiring him. I love him so much. So much. With that in mind he started eating, but his thoughts soon took a turn: how he was going to propose exactly.

Come to think of it, the one knee on the floor trick is pretty common, what about some outside of the box thinking? Yes! Let’s see... His gaze landed on Laurent’s dessert, as well as his wine glass. How about I slip the ring in his wine glass? No, wait, it will stain. His panna cotta, perhaps? Seeing his face upon noticing it would be so cute... He considered distracting Laurent and doing it, but a panicked voice quickly bellowed in his mind. NO, NO! What if he doesn’t notices it and eats it and chokes and dies!? You really want that to happen? Dumbass, dumbass, dumbass!! He nervously chewed on his bottom lip, which Laurent noticed.

His voice had a worried tone as he asked him if everything was alright. Barnaby nodded, putting on his brightest smile. This is a mess. I’m a mess. It won’t work! Whatever idea I’m coming up with... they’re all bad! Maybe I can propose to him by only getting down on one knee? No!! What if I lose balance and fall!? If I slip his ring in his food, he might choke and die! Maybe I can sing...? NO WAY. The ring, resting in his pocket, now felt awfully heavy... and he finally came to a decision.

No proposing tonight. It’s going to be disastrous, I’m feeling it.

A defeated expression threatened to take over his features, but he managed to tuck away all of that negativity. Another day. I’ll do it another day. But what if I’m still afraid...? What if I’m still a mess...?

Soon enough they finished their dessert, and Barnaby gazed at his boyfriend. His beautiful boyfriend, whom he would like to eventually call his fiancé. Their eyes locked, and Laurent smiled. “That was great, Barnaby... and I believe you mentioned cuddling on the couch once the dinner is over, right?”

A mischievous glint passed through his eyes, one that made Barnaby smile fondly. Let’s just make it a simple date. On the bright side it will give me more time to think about my proposal. “Yes. I guess you are up for it?”

“You bet.” Laurent replied.

That being said, they both headed to the living room with their arm around the other’s waist. Once they sat down it didn’t take long for Laurent to press kisses on his boyfriend’s neck. Light, teasing kisses that only made Barnaby wish for more. Just as he was about to say that, the words clung in his throat as Laurent’s fingers started fiddling with his shirt’s buttons, finally unbuttoning one. A blush came forth, colouring his cheeks. Don’t stop.

And thank Merlin, he wasn’t stopping. Kisses now trailed down his neck and reached his collarbone. Another button came undone, and their gazes met as Laurent looked up, his face reddening as well. “Maybe we can... do more than cuddles, if you know what I mean.” A giggle bubbled out of his lips as he wiggled his eyebrows, and a single word came to Barnaby’s mind: Adorable. Without a warning Barnaby’s lips crashed on his, strong hands gripping at his waist and pulling him closer, much closer. Laurent was quick to respond to these kisses, returning their passion and sinking his fingers into brown locks, tugging softly. Quickly enough their positions were flipped and Laurent was laying on the couch.

Would it be inappropriate to propose to him right now? It didn’t take him long to figure out the answer: yes. Instead, he kissed him.

- - -

Sunlight spilled inside and filled up their room as Barnaby slowly opened his eyes, vision taking a while to adjust to that sudden brightness. Without a second thought he reached forward, patting the other side of the mattress only to find it cold and empty. Where is Lau...? Tending to flowers, probably. But it’s Saturday... we could have slept in and cuddled...

Groaning softly, he managed to pull himself out of bed despite it’s comfort, and once he slipped on clothes made his way to the kitchen for a well deserved snack. What could he possibly choose? A banana? An apple? A-- and all of a sudden memories flowed right back to him, hitting him right in the chest and causing him to lose his breath for a quick second. My proposal. My missed proposal. I chickened out. Idiot, idiot, idiot!

He had planned everything until the last minute, and now it was all ruined because he had been too scared to make a move! He couldn’t possibly propose right now! Not without a romantic atmosphere, not without a nice, homemade meal, not without sweet cuddles on the couch! Laurent deserved the best, only the best, and Barnaby had to provide! Jumbled thoughts spun in his mind and, once he stepped in the kitchen, he barely noticed Laurent’s presence. When he did, however, he found himself breathless.

He always looked amazingly handsome when he had just woken up. Messy, tangled hair coupled with an adorably sleepy look. To top it all off, he would always wear a pair of boxers as well as a sweater belonging to Barnaby, which looked way too big for the redhead. It was an amazing sight, one that left Barnaby with jumbled words and clammy palms. “G’morning.” He whispered, awe in his voice.

Laurent’s attention went from the pancakes he has been making to his boyfriend, a smile immediately curling his lips. “Hello, sleepyhead. I suppose last night left you exhausted~”

Barnaby walked to his boyfriend in order to gently wrap his arms around his waist, pressing a kiss on his forehead. “You tease.” Laughter filled his voice.

“You bet. One pancake or two? I added blueberries in them.”

“Two!”

Suddenly, Laurent was giggling, fingers gently walking up Barnaby’s chest. “You must be looking forward to these pancakes, your heart is beating like crazy.”

Shit. Barnaby had failed to notice that, and now he was just realizing how hard it was hammering against his chest. Why, exactly? Simple: his love for Laurent Dorian King was swelling, getting bigger and bigger, and threatening to burst in one moment or another. He wanted to ask him, and now. The question was threatening to spill off his lips, ruining all of his plans.

Will you m--

“Your pancakes are that good, babe~” Idiot. No one’s heart beats like that when seeing food!... right? Soon enough they were eating on the couch, the same couch they had cuddled on, the same couch Barnaby had thought about proposing to him on. With memories surging back to him, he only felt a wave of uneasiness that he tried to hide as best as he could... but to no avail, as he suddenly felt Laurent’s small hand on his cheek.

“Everything ok? You look... worried. Is the job giving you trouble? Something else?”

He’s so caring. So damn caring. He always asks me if I’m fine, and if he can help in one way or another. He can just look at me and figure out I’m not feeling alright. I love him. I love him so much. He’s perfect, and he deserves perfection.

But what was perfection? Could it really be a planned event? Couldn’t it be, instead, a spontaneous reaction based on the purest emotion to exist; love? Did Barnaby really need to try and organize everything? Wouldn’t it be perfect already, since Laurent was with him? Wouldn’t it be perfect already, since they are both madly in love with each other?

Yes, a voice whispered in Barnaby’s mind. Yes, all is perfect already, because you have each other. Marriage has been in both of your minds, you see it whenever Laurent’s gaze locks on a ring when you two are out shopping. You see it whenever his eyes sparkle when a friend of his announce they are now engaged. He is ready, and you are. He reached for Laurent’s hand, lacing their fingers together and feeling warmth spread throughout his body. Wait. Not warmth, not really. Love. “I want to marry you.”

There, it was said. It was said, and there was now no turning back. Everything now rested in Laurent’s hands, but Barnaby was feeling optimistic. Sure, fear was still tugging at his mind, but his certainty that Laurent loved him as much as he did prevailed.

Laurent’s eyes widened, his jaw dropped, his cheeks flushed, his eyes began to sparkle with tears. Ones of joy. The purest joy Barnaby had ever seen. “You... a-are you serious!?” The redhead squealed at last.

“Super serious.” Barnaby confirmed, feeling his cheeks burning as well. “I... I was supposed to ask you yesterday, y’know, after dinner, but I was... pretty anxious, I guess. Yeah, very anxious.” He punctuated his sentence with a giggle, one that appeased his beating heart. “But... I love you. I love you so much, Laurent... so I have to ask you. I’m... I’m not afraid anymore. I love you, and I want to marry you! I... ack, hang on!”

Laurent had no time to say anything as Barnaby fled to their bedroom, fumbling through the clothes he had worn the previous day and pulling the ring out of his vest’s pocket. Victory painted over his face he dashed back to the couch, but he didn’t sit back on it. Instead, he did what he had meant to do since a long, long time. Dropping on one knee, breath clinging to his throat, he reached for Laurent’s hand and showed him the ring. “Laurent Dorian King. Will... will you marry me?”

He was met with astonished silence, but Laurent’s expression screamed all that Barnaby wanted to see. Joy, relief, surprise, excitement, anticipation... love. Before he could fully register it, he had now his boyfriend in his arms, his face buried into the crook of his neck and hearing gentle sobs.

He usually hated hearing Laurent cry.

But at that very moment, he was crying as well.

“And what answer are you expecting, Barnaby?” Laurent asked, attempting a giggle despite his tears.

“Have I told you you are a tease, Laurent King?”

With that, Lau nodded, and faced Barnaby at last with his hands cupping his cheeks. “Laurent Lee. My answer is yes, Barnaby... yes!”

#my writing #barnalau #barnaby lee #lau king #barnaby x mc #barnaby lee x mc #hphm barnaby

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sometimesrosy · 4 years

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The fact that even tho bell knows it’s Josephine the fact that he clocks her body so fast when she’s tapping alive is insane. He’s always in tune to Clarke. Her body, her mind, her heart and soul. Josephine herself doesn’t even notice in all her genius.

Isn’t that a great gif and a great scene?

He sees her tapping and something doesn’t fit with Josephine’s actions or character. It’s a pattern. One that he recognizes. He starts marking it. It’s a message. He knows, he just knows, what it means.

Somewhere inside of him, he didn’t give up on Clarke. Somewhere he still believed that she was alive.

You can’t tell me that he didn’t have the same buried faith in Clarke for all those 6 years after leaving her behind, with nightblood, on the irradiated planet.

Josephine underestimated Clarke badly. Just like all those people who went up against her and died on Earth. Just like all those Clarke antis, or the people trying to relegate her to love interest in favor of their faves (many in both CL and BC fandoms think of her as the reward for L or B, not the hero for whom L and B are the goal, the support, the care, and the reward. Yes B is the secondary protagonist and yes L was the antagonist and a foreign leader, but in the THIS story, which is Clarke’s story, their relationships helped move her forward [or kept her from] achieving her larger goals.)

Josephine also underestimated Bellamy. First she didn’t notice how he cared about Clarke or knew her and thought she could fake her way through the bellarke relationship (ha ha no.) THEN she thought that she could imply that they could “get through this together” (aka screw-- come on we all know that’s what she was saying,) and giving him Clarke’s body would be enough to get him on her side. Then she thought that offering (a lie) his people’s safety would be enough to get Bellamy to give her up.

I don’t think she stopped underestimating Bellamy and Clarke until the cave, when she started paying more attention to Clarke’s memories of Bellamy and the attendant feelings involved. That’s when she stopped threatening him or promising him with his people’s safety and started comparing Bellarke to her relationship with Gabriel.

And then when Clarke tapped out “boo hoo.” Wow.

That was not only a message to Bellamy that she was there and listening, it was a message to Josephine that she was there and NOT GIVING UP.

Josephine, who is narcissistic but not stupid, then reevaluated Clarke and Bellamy’s strength and power. She gave the body to Clarke when she needed to get out of there and stay alive. She knows who can fight.

But I suppose she still thought she was sneakier and would think her way out of her mess. MANIPULATE her way out. Josephine is probably more manipulative than Clarke, and better at it. She’s more charming. Clarke is too serious and singleminded to be charming. Clarke is COMPELLING not charming.

In the end, after cajoling and bribing and poking at Bellamy, she tried to beg and plead and seduce Gabriel into saving her, and when that didn’t work, her last ditch effort was to befriend and trick and betray Clarke at the last minute. Not understanding the FORCE OF WILL that Clarke has. She was literally about to fly to pieces and disintegrate when she pulls a grounder move (same wound-- flying axe to the forehead that killed one of the delinquents as they tried to runaway from the drop ship) with a Bellamy skill (axe throwing) with the last of her energy before death (Clarke move, definitely).

NEVER underestimate Clarke Griffin. NEVER underestimate Bellamy Blake. And NEVER underestimate Bellarke.

Not only do the characters in this show forget that, but the fandom does too.

#the 100 #clarke griffin #is the hero #bellamy blake #bellarke #josephine #slytherin wiles #morse code

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atruththatyoudeny · 5 years

Text

Monthly Reads | June 2019

Happy 28th! Like last month @kingsofeverything is posting your self-recs, so, authors and artists alike hop on over and let her know about your work! As always my eternal thanks go to all you lovely authors who share their work with us ♥ Here are all the fics I read and loved this month:

Tired Tired Sea || MediaWhore || famous/not famous - past alcoholism - recovery - slow burn - strangers to lovers - hurt/comfort - mutual pining - 113k As a B&B owner on the most remote of all the British Isles, Louis Tomlinson is used to spending the coldest half of the year in complete isolation, with his dog and the sea as sole companions. Until, one day, a mysterious stranger on a quest to rebuild himself rents a room for the winter.

The Cyber Sphere || jacaranda_bloom || Louis/Dermot O'Leary - strangers to lovers - twitter - fluff - 17k The one where Liam likes to think he’s Batman, Dermot has terrible taste in sporting teams, and Louis should really get a cat.

Breaking Through The Atmosphere || dinosaursmate || Space AU - friends to lovers - angst - mild homophobia - 40k Working in recruitment wasn't exactly Louis' lifelong dream, but his job takes him to a far away planet to help build a new civilisation, and a brand new life for himself.

Sisterwives || jaerie || a/b/o - dubious consent - polygamy - religion - implied brainwashing - self-discovery - mpreg - cults - emotional manipulation - 32k This was it, the moment Louis had been waiting for his entire life. Giddy excitement bubbled up as he held hands and stared up at his soon-to-be alpha and husband and grinned. The ceremony was small and simple, but Louis didn’t mind. Fresh flowers pinned into his hair and a brand new outfit was all he needed to feel special in front of their few witnesses. It was just some members of his family and a few of the church elders in attendance as was customary for any marriage beyond the first wife within the faith. First wives were the ones to have elaborate weddings with the whole community involved. An alpha’s first wedding was a celebration of an their coming of age, his first steps into fulfilling God’s prophecy. There were many glories for an omega that came with being a first wife but also many responsibilities. Louis had never aspired to be a first wife or even a second. He wasn’t experienced enough to be the leader of an alpha’s many wives and children and he didn’t think he’d be up to the task. Louis was just fine in the position he was stepping into as the seventh. Or Louis thinks he's getting everything he's ever dreamed of. Harry helps him find what makes him truly happy.

Becoming Us || sweariwouldnt || tv series AU - amrried at first sight - miscommuniaction - 59k Married at First Sight is a television show in which hopefuls looking for The One are matched by experts deeming them to be the perfect match. The twist? They meet each other for the first time at the altar. When they exchange their 'I do's'. And get married for real. One Harry and Louis find each other at the altar. They have five weeks to make or break the set-up marriage.

Si Pudiera Volar || messofgorgeouschaos || historical - a/b/o - fake/pretend relationship - arranged marriage - strangers to lovers - miscommunication - emotional hurt/comfort - 68k When Harry’s fiancé leaves him for his cousin, he looks the other way for the sake of his happiness. He’ll do anything to forget about him, including joining a monastery. It isn’t until his cousin’s former lover, a pirate, appears that he realizes everything is not as it appears, and an honest pirate might be the only person worthy of his heart. Or, a fic loosely based on Corazon Salvaje.

Orion's Belt || LadyLondonderry || Stylinshaw - a/b/o - soulmates - hurt/comfort - 24k Louis and Nick have been in a happy committed relationship for two years, their matching soulmarks on display for the world to see. It’s been them against the world, the alpha/beta singer and radio DJ power duo. All that changes on February 1st, when they wake up to a third matching soulmark. As they say, the course of true love never did run smooth.

Forgive Me This Lie Bigger Than Us || evelynemesis || magic - witch curses - miscommunication - angst - 25k The magic!AU where Louis is cursed to live a life of pain and solitude and Harry just happens to fall in love.

Still Deep In Us || graceling_in_a_suit || fantasy - post-apocalypse - mermaid - mentions of death - mentions of grief - magic - angst - 41k AU. The village Harry has called home his entire life sits on six shaky legs, held aloft from the ocean which claimed the entire world twenty years ago. Harry's just a grieving tinkerer trying to do his best, and Louis is a mermaid that ruins The Village's delicate balance of power (and perhaps, just maybe, wins the heart of a boy).

Hard for me to know i might see you around || Anonymous || Tinder AU - airport - 4k A TINDER AU where Harry swipes left on Louis' joke of a profile, then ends up stuck next to him on a trans-Atlantic flight.

A Long Way From The Top || jaerie || vampires - death - mountaineering - 11k Harry needed to find a purpose in life. Mount Everest wasn't the place he'd expected to find it, but he'd take what he could get. He also hadn't expected to come home with extra baggage.

That Mouth of Yours || Awriterwrites || PWP - 3k “Did I–” Louis panted around the sexiest moan Harry thought he had ever heard (at least since the last time Louis moaned–which was about 5 minutes ago). “Did I ever tell you about that guy that I let rim me at one of Liam’s parties in college?” Something dark and furious unfurled inside Harry, making him pull away from the sweet oblivion that was Louis’ arse. “Wh–” He wiped his mouth off on the back of his hand. “What?” Louis shot a smirk over his shoulder. His hair was a mess and his face was flushed and his eyes were glazed over but he was still himself–still teasing. Still a menace beneath angelic blue eyes and a soft voice. “Just some guy. Never got his name.” He turned his head back toward the pillows, giving a slight shake of his arse in Harry’s face. Not that that wasn’t distracting or anything. A little drool slipped out of Harry’s mouth.

Hello My Name Is Harry || abrighteryellow || famous/ not famous - school reunion - 3k Louis’s 20-year high school reunion takes a turn when a celebrity classmate – who also happens to be Louis’s long unrequited crush – unexpectedly shows up. A famous/not-famous AU inspired by Chris Evans.

Challenging Nature: A Look Into Male Lactation || jaerie || lactation kink - male lactation - 11k Even taking into account all the bizarre things Harry has subjected himself to in the past for the sake of an article, Harry has received his strangest assignment yet. It comes up as a random misunderstanding in a meeting and builds into a conversation — can men breastfeed? Internet searches reveal documented cases of male lactation popping up at different times throughout history, but are any of them true? Can a man will himself into lactating? Harry has two months to make it happen.

Freaks from the internet || jaerie || lactation kink - male lactation - a/b/o - exes to lovers - smut - milking - 3k Harry sells his breast milk to freaks on the internet. Louis turns out to be one of those freaks. He also happens to be Harry's ex.

Tied to Fate || littlelouishiccups || ghosts - angst - magic - 52k After his estranged father’s death, Harry inherits a castle in England that has belonged to his family for generations and he knows nothing about. When he breaks up with his boyfriend, Harry decides England is the perfect place for a small vacation. He isn’t prepared to meet Louis Tomlinson, a ghost who once lived in the castle and has haunted it for over five hundred years. He’s even more unprepared to fall in love with him.

I Want You S'more || 2tiedships2 || a/b/o - strangers to lovers - humor - fluff - 17k The one where the least alpha-y alpha and the least omega-y omega show that secondary genders aren’t set in stone and sometimes it works when you kinda share that.

His and Mine || glitteredcurls || soulmate-identifying marks - dystopia - mentions of surgery - religious imagery Á symbolism - 66k Harry legally isn't supposed to meet his soulmate-- he's rendered physically unable to recognize him even if he did-- but yet, of course, he does.

Salvation Let's Their Wings Unfold || twoshipstiedup || fantasy - angels - demons - fluff - humor - 14k Harry is an ex demon who gets banished back to Earth. Louis is an angel who gets sent down there for work. Naturally, they end up together.

Found My Hallelujah || Anonymous || cruise ship - hurt/comfort - pining - 34k As an engagement gift from his parents, Harry and his fiance receive an all expenses paid cruise trip for two. But one week before they're set to sail, Harry walks in on his fiance cheating on him. Newly single, with the cruise tickets in hand, and his bags already packed, Harry brings along his sister instead. And maybe the cute bartender on the ship might just be the person Harry needs to help him put back together all of his broken pieces.

Under the Moonlight || Anonymous || friends to lovers - fluff - fake/pretend relationship - mutual pining - 15k Harry and Louis have been friends online for years. They've never met despite living only a few hours from one another. One fateful summer a silly little lie, a family vacation and an accidental meet up lead to a week of fake dating on Mallorca. All in all, a holiday Louis won't easily forget.

#28th appreciation #1d fanworks appreciation #fic rec #my fic rec #monthly reads #1d fanfic #my reads

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