#the worst thing is that the person who did it probably thought I'd appreciate how complementary they were at the start of the review

[helloalycia]

first friend [two] // yelena belova

summary: when you convince Yelena to go out with the flirty barista serving you, you begin to realise that you may actually like her yourself.

warning/s: mentions of a breakup, shitty girlfriends and the mildest of angst.

author's note: here’s the second and final part! who doesn’t love a bit of yelena? i’ve got a multi-part alicia clark imagine coming up next 🥰

part one / masterlist / wattpad

Whenever bad things happen, everybody thinks it's the worst it can be and that they'll never get out from it. And that was exactly how I felt with the whole Thomas situation. Turns out all I needed to do was share my feelings with somebody.

After Yelena discovered the truth about our break up, it became a lot easier for me to move on from it. I didn't feel like I was holding it all alone, and if I ever did feel lonelier than usual, she was always there for me to call.

I was surprised she didn't do something horribly irreversible or probably illegal to him in some form of payback, considering she was still very much pissed about the whole thing. I'd made it clear I didn't want her to, and I was very appreciative of her listening to me.

A month passed and I didn't even care for Thomas anymore. It was easy to let it all go, to an extent. I tried to focus on myself again and appreciate what I did have in my life. And one of those things was Yelena, of course.

We were out on a coffee date during our lunch break one day. It was nice to get out of the Compound, especially during the few breaks I got, and Yelena happened to be mission-free so was able to join me.

"Sorry, one second, my phone keeps vibrating," she said when we were mid-conversation.

I waited patiently, watching as she quickly flicked through her messages.

"Who is it?" I asked, before sipping my iced coffee.

She sighed, tapping away quickly before locking her phone. "Just Nat. She can't find her hoodie."

"Oh, d'you know where it is?"

"Uh-huh."

I quirked a brow. "And you told her?"

"I told her I don't know," she said casually, before slurping her fruit drink.

I tried not to laugh as I glanced at what Yelena had on. "Is it the hoodie you're wearing by any chance?"

She didn't respond, but a smile curled on her lips as she met my eyes playfully. I chuckled, shaking my head at her silliness.

"I don't know how you're so confident lying to her. When she finds out, she'll be so angry," I said.

"She doesn't scare me," she answered with a shrug.

I raised my eyebrows in disagreement. "Seriously? She's intimidating as fuck! The Black Widow!" When Yelena didn't seem to agree, I scoffed quietly. "Honestly, I probably never would have talked to her if it wasn't for you. She's scary."

Yelena snorted with amusement. "Please. Natasha is the least intimidating person ever. Even you're more intimidating than her."

I rolled my eyes playfully. "Of course you're saying that. You're her sister after all."

Enthused, Yelena leaned back in her seat and eyed me curiously. "I'm now wondering what you thought of me when we first met."

"Well, I thought you would be intimidating," I began, suppressing the urge to smile, "but then you came in because of a bad mission report and started pouting like a baby when I corrected you. So, from there, I knew you were harmless."

She opened her mouth with disbelief, lifting an eyebrow. "Wow. Seriously?"

"You're a softie deep down, I know it," I said convincingly, and she tried not to smile but it was impossible.

"Whatever," she mumbled, avoiding my eyes.

I grinned at her pout and the fact that she was only proving my point. "It's true! You would do anything I ask. Soft–ie."

She scoffed under her breath, crossing her arms, only making me laugh. I knew it and she knew it, but it was okay. That was why I loved her.

"Sorry to interrupt, but are you finished with your food?" a waitress asked, stopping by our table.

"No worries, that's fine, thanks," I said to her politely.

She smiled, nodding, before stacking them and saying, "Can I get you any dessert?"

I shook my head, but Yelena bit her lip as she glanced at the dessert menu sticking out between the salt and pepper shakers.

"Hmm, maybe," she mumbled, before pulling it out to have a proper look.

I crossed my arms and leaned back in my seat, amused. Of course she'd want dessert.

"You know, the chocolate cake here is very good," the waitress recommended, leaning down slightly to point it out on the menu to her. "Or if you're not a cake person, there's pie."

"That looks pretty good actually," Yelena agreed, nodding slightly.

"Something sweet for someone sweet," the waitress flirted, glancing at Yelena with a smile.

Either oblivious or not knowing how to react, Yelena clapped her hands together and nodded. "Well, I can't say no to that. Can I get a slice of your apple pie with some ice cream, please?"

"You got it," the waitress agreed, eyes lingering on Yelena a lot longer than normal, before collecting our plates and leaving.

I raised my eyebrows, trying not to laugh, as I looked over to Yelena with disbelief. Feeling my stare, she looked up and raised her chin.

"What?" she questioned.

I glanced over at the waitress who was behind the till getting her pie, and then back at Yelena. "What? Seriously? Did you not see what I just saw?"

Confused, Yelena tilted her head. "What? The picture of the pie? It's on the menu, Y/N, of course I saw it."

I tsked, shaking my head, before giving her a knowing look. "That waitress, idiot! She was totally into you!"

Taken aback, Yelena shook her head. "Pfft, no she wasn't. You're seeing things."

I rolled my eyes. "Yelena. She was literally checking you out."

"She was taking my order, that's all," she disagreed, getting comfortable in her seat. "It was good customer service is all."

I snorted. "Okay, whatever you say."

The waitress soon returned and gave Yelena her dessert, and not without checking her out yet again. Yelena glanced at me disapprovingly when I gave her another look, but said nothing else. We chatted for a little longer, her enjoying her dessert and me finishing my drink, before my lunch break was over and I knew I had to get back.

The same waitress – whose name tag read Andrea – gave us the bill and let us split it. But just as I predicted, she wrote a little something extra on Yelena's card receipt and slid it over to her before leaving.

"It's her number," I said with amazement, laughing when I put my jacket on. "I was freakin' right! God, I'm good."

"Maybe you were," Yelena said with mild surprise, looking at the receipt, before putting it in her pocket. "Probably won't do anything with it."

I quirked a brow. "Seriously? You should talk to her. She seems nice. And she was definitely interested in you."

Yelena considered it, glancing at the till where Andrea was serving another customer.

"It's really easy," I assured her, realising she'd never dated before because of her past, and so this would all be new to her. "No pressure or anything. Just approach her and say hi. And then the rest will play out itself."

"I don't know," she said, looking back to me with disinterest.

"Yelena, go over there," I said with encouragement. "You'll be fine. Promise."

She hesitated, watching me as if searching for confirmation. When I nodded, she took a deep breath and went over to the till. I smiled as I subtly watched their conversation, too far to hear anything but it looked like it was going well. Yelena was smiling shyly which was rare with her, and Andrea seemed to be enjoying the attention, checking her out and flirtatiously touching her hand on the counter.

Without thinking much of it, my smile faded when I saw just how flirtatious she was acting. It was a little icky to witness and left an unpleasant feeling in my stomach. I think I felt... jealous? Which was stupid, because I'd literally talked Yelena into going over there and I had no reason to be. But seeing it all play out was a different story, and a small part of me wanted to yank Yelena away and forget this ever happened.

It was a momentary feeling, strange, and I tried to ignore it. She was my friend and this was the first time she was putting herself out there – I was merely being overprotective.

Though, when Yelena finished her conversation and left with slightly pink cheeks, I realised it might have been more than a little jealousy I was feeling.

Trying to push that to the side, I plastered on a smile as we walked out the store. "So? How did it go?"

Yelena shrugged, smiling a little. "Alright. You were right. She was nice. I said I'd call her."

"That's great," I said, sounding excited for her, but I wasn't too sure I actually was.

"Enough of that anyway," Yelena said, giving me a sideways glance. "We don't want you back to work late. Let's go."

"We've got time, don't worry about– woah!"

I was cut off when Yelena put her hand out across me, stopping me from walking further forward. A cyclist suddenly sped past us, inches away from knocking me down if she hadn't stopped me, and I widened my eyes with surprise at the suddenness of it all and also the feeling of Yelena's hand protectively over me because she still hadn't let go, even when she yelled out a string of Russian curse words to the cyclist. It was kind of attractive, admittedly, seeing her so protective, and that's when I realised...

Oh, no.

"Are you okay?" she asked, finally dropping her hand and looking to me with concern.

I swallowed uncomfortably, avoiding her eyes. "Yep. All good here. Thank you."

She breathed out with relief, squeezing my arm gently. "People can be such idiots."

She began to rant about how inconsiderate some cyclists could be when riding on the pavement, but I was barely listening. The realisation that I may be attracted to my best friend was enough to silence me for the rest of the walk back to work.

It didn't long for me to realise that, yes, I do in fact like my best friend.

Though I tried to pin it down to a momentary lapse of judgement, or a mere appreciation for the beauty that was Yelena, I knew it wasn't that. More so when she actually began to see Andrea outside of the coffee shop and went on a few dates with her. The jealousy that went through me was too fierce to be purely platonic. And I hated that I only noticed too late.

Despite this, I tried to be as supportive as possible, especially because it was Yelena's first true taste of a relationship. There was a chance I was finding things to pick on without meaning to though...

"She's just really nice," Yelena was telling me one day after another date she'd been on. Her smile was permanent and she was gushing, making me feel icky because it was about someone else. "We went bowling and it was simple, but she makes me feel good. I didn't think it was possible, you know? I'm usually the one who doesn't feel like this, but something about her..."

She sighed contently, probably falling into a daydream about her, and I couldn't exactly do anything about it because I was the one who pushed her to go out with her.

"Does she know who you are?" I asked, trying not to seem too interested, when deep down I hated the irrational jealousy in me.

She shook her head, trying not to laugh. "I'm not stupid. Of course she doesn't. As far as she's aware, I work in admin at S.H.I.E.L.D."

I narrowed my eyes without meaning to. "So, my job."

She grinned, winking. "Exactly!"

I shoved her arm gently from across the table. "Just be careful. She's still new and you don't want to let anything slip up."

She gave me a disapproving look. "Y/N, I think you forget I'm a fully trained assassin. I don't let things 'slip up'."

I rolled my eyes. "Still."

And that was only the start. The more dates she went on, the more unreasonably jealous I was becoming. I tried my hardest to be supportive, but it was hard seeing her be so happy with someone else.

I wasn't sure how I'd never looked at Yelena in this light before, especially when she'd been nothing but kind and caring towards me. Probably because I was in a relationship, but now I wasn't and she was, so everything was the wrong timing. Whatever it was, I just knew that now I'd become aware of how great she was in a more-than-a-friend kind of way, it hurt seeing her with someone else.

But, like I said, I was nothing short of supportive. I helped her get ready for her dates, I gave her advice whenever she asked for it, and I even hung out with Andrea whenever they invited me. She was just as nice as she was at the coffee shop, except now I hated everything about her for the sole reason that she was dating Yelena and I wasn't.

It was a horrid feeling, jealousy. But I tried not to let it get the better of me. Yelena was in her first proper relationship and she needed support, not bitterness.

Unfortunately, as time passed, there were a few times when Yelena and Andrea would have plans and Andrea would cancel last minute, unaware of the way Yelena's feelings would drop in an instant. Or sometimes, we'd all be grabbing lunch together and she'd cut Yelena off mid-story, highjacking it with her own. I wasn't sure if it was on purpose or not, and Yelena never seemed to mind, so I didn't comment on it. But I always thought about it, hoping it wasn't my jealousy just picking things to hate on.

I knew I wasn't just seeing things when it happened again, though this time it was their two month anniversary (whatever the hell that meant). I was helping Yelena get ready at hers, doing her hair for her and listening to her ramble all about what she had planned and what restaurant she'd booked for the evening. She looked stunning, I wouldn't lie, but even more so because of the sparkle in her eyes and the glimmer in her smile when she talked about Andrea. As much as I disliked the girl, she made Yelena happier than I'd seen her. And as much as that broke my heart, it warmed it, too.

"So, the waiter said he'd prepare this special chocolate cake that's cut into a heart–" she was telling me as I put some pins in her hair to keep it out of her eyes, but was cut off by her phone ringing.

I passed it to her from behind me on the bed, happening to catch the caller ID as Andrea's. When she saw it, her face lit up and she answered it.

"Darling, hey!" she greeted, making me insides turn uncomfortably. There was a pause, then Yelena continued, "I'm almost ready and I'll come to pick you up. It's a surprise after all." She laughed, but then she fell silent, listening intently.

I finished her hair and smiled at my handiwork before taking a step back, only to realise the lovely smile on her face had disappeared.

"No, I understand," she said, voice lacking the same excitement it had all evening. A fake smile was on her lips as she looked down, playing with the hem of her dress. "It's okay, don't worry. We can reschedule. It happens all the time. Just a mix up, I know."

I frowned, wondering what was up, before watching her say her goodbyes and hanging up. It was quiet and she didn't say anything, so I decided to speak up.

"Is everything okay?" I asked gently, moving around so I could see her face.

She nodded, faking another smile as she met my eyes briefly. "Yes, but Andrea won't be able to go out this evening."

I raised my eyebrows with surprise. "What do you mean? You've got a whole plan. I thought you were picking her up."

She bit her lip, looking away. "She didn't realise she'd promised she'd go out to a party with her roommate tonight. Mixed up the days."

Without thinking twice, I said, "What the fuck? That's rude."

Yelena shook her head, visibly upset but defensive. "No, it was just an accident. Her roommate needed a wing woman and she promised she'd go. She said she'd make it up to me."

"Yelena, that's not an excuse," I told her with furrowed brows, not recognising this version of my friend. "It's your two month anniversary, right? You both knew the date. She should have cancelled with her friend and chose you."

"Y/N, just leave it," she said quietly, before standing up and taking out the pins in her hair.

"No, I won't leave it," I said, earning her attention. "This isn't the first time she's cancelled on you last minute. You put a lot of effort into tonight and she should be here!"

"It's not a big deal," she defended again, and it frustrated me to no ends because if the roles had been reversed, Yelena would have killed the person who did this to me. But ever since she'd dated Andrea, she'd become submissive.

"It's a dick move, Yelena!" I exclaimed, and she clenched her jaw. "She's a–"

"Don't," she warned, shooting me a look. "Don't talk about her like that."

"You always defend her," I said with disbelief. "Yelena, she does this regularly! And not just this."

"Oh, just say how you really feel," she said sarcastically, turning to walk to her wardrobe so she didn't have to look at me.

"Ever since you began dating her, it's like you've changed," I finally told her what had been on my mind. "She makes the decisions. She tells you what to do. She cancels, she takes advantage of your patience and you let her! That's not what a relationship is!"

"Stop talking badly about her!" she shouted suddenly, spinning around to glare at me. "I don't know where all of this is coming from, but stop it! It's not your place, Y/N!"

"Yes, it is!" I shouted. "She's a shitty girlfriend, Yelena! Who the hell leaves someone alone on their anniversary?! And for what – a dumb party?! That's fucked!"

"Stop it! You–" She began to curse in Russian, looking up with frustration, before settling her fiery stare at me. "You're the one who told me to date her!"

I scoffed. "Well, that was before I knew how badly she'd treat you."

"No!" she yelled, pointing an accusatory finger at me. "Stop it! You don't– fuck! You don't get to say all of this now! Not when–!"

Stopping herself, she squeezed her hand into a fist and looked the other way. I hated that she couldn't just see how badly she was being treated, how she couldn't believe me when I told her.

"Whatever, enjoy your cancelled date," I told her with a frown, before grabbing my phone and leaving her place.

So much for being supportive, I guess.

THIRD PERSON POV

"She's just being such a– such a–"

"A concerned friend?" Natasha filled in for her sister, making the blonde groan with frustration.

"Why are you sticking up for her right now?!" Yelena exclaimed. "You're supposed to be on my side!"

"Sorry," Natasha apologised, hardly meaning it.

Since Yelena burst into her room at the Compound the following day of her cancelled date, ranting about how rude Y/N was being and how she didn't approve of Yelena's relationship, Natasha was forced to hear it all.

"She doesn't get to comment on this!" Yelena continued to rant, more upset than angry, Natasha noticed. "I waited for her, for crying out loud! I– fuck, I was in love with her and she didn't see that, so no! She doesn't get to tell me what my relationship is."

"I mean, regardless of all of that, she wasn't wrong," Natasha commented, wondering if she'd regret it given Yelena's current emotional state right now. "The way Andrea treats you... it's not how a relationship is supposed to be."

Yelena narrowed her eyes at her sister. "Are you just team Y/N all the way now? Didn't know you loved her so fucking much."

Natasha ignored her bitterness and continued, "I'm not taking sides, Yelena. But I've seen how Andrea treats you, heard from yourself how she treats you. It's a dick thing to do."

Yelena clenched her jaw. "You've never said this before."

Natasha sighed, looking over her cup of coffee and to her sister. "I didn't want to get involved in your first relationship. It's something you had to figure out yourself. But Y/N... she cares about you and said it first. She's right. You deserve better, Yelena. And you're only not listening to Y/N because you're holding a grudge at the fact that she didn't love you back. That she didn't know you loved– love– whatever it is, her. But that's not fair to hold against her when she doesn't know. You didn't tell her and that's on you. Not her."

Yelena began to unclench her jaw and looked away, her anger fading and being replaced with hurt. There was truth to Natasha's words, she knew that, but she couldn't accept it just like that. It wasn't fair. She waited for Y/N. She wanted her. And when she finally had her chance, Y/N convinced her to ask Andrea out instead. All Yelena ever wanted was Y/N. It should have been her.

It wasn't fair.

YOUR POV

Yelena and I had never argued before, not like this. Small, stupid, petty arguments, sure, but never this. I hadn't seen her as angry as I had that evening. We hadn't gone this long – a whole week – without speaking, ever.

I missed her.

After being left alone to replay that evening over in my head, I knew I shouldn't have snapped like I did. Letting my concern and jealousy both get the better of me like that... it wasn't fair on Yelena. She didn't know how I felt, she couldn't have, and I was the one who talked her into dating Andrea. I couldn't take it out on her like I was, so I knew I needed to apologise. And tell her the truth, even if it meant saying goodbye to our friendship forever.

I went to visit her at her apartment, hoping she'd be in and also actually let me see her. Sucking up a deep breath, I knocked on her front door and waited. Finally, the door opened and Yelena was standing there, certainly surprised to see me. She didn't look like she wanted to punch me in the face, which was a positive sign...

"Hey," I said, embarrassed at how quietly it came out. Clearing my throat, I repeated myself, "Hey. Hi."

She pressed her lips together, green eyes flickering between mine. "Hi. I didn't expect to see you here."

"I know, sorry for showing up unannounced." I swallowed the lump in my throat. "I understand if you want me to leave, but I came here because I want to talk to you. I need to apologise, Yelena."

She raised her eyebrows, clearly surprised. "I see. It's funny you say that. I was actually going to visit you. I wanted to apologise also. And talk."

I was surprised, not expecting to hear that, and as much as I was curious about what she felt she needed to apologise for, I knew I needed to go first, it already on the tip of my tongue.

"Can I come in?" I asked nervously.

She nodded, stepping to the side. I let myself in, stopping in the hall and not inviting myself in any further.

"Y/N, I–" she began after closing the door behind me, but I cut her off instantly.

"Please let me go first," I pleaded. "I have to tell you something important. It can't wait."

She nodded reluctantly, eyes locking on mine as she waited for me to speak. This was it. The truth. Possibly the last exchange I could have with her if it went so badly.

"Firstly, I'm sorry for how everything went down between us last week," I said with a frown. "I shouldn't have flipped on you like that without warning. What I said... it could have been said better, at a better time and in a better place. But Yelena... it's true. I don't want to see you being used like that and forgotten about. You're amazing and you deserve the world."

She looked down at her shoes uncomfortably, and I worried I was going too far. But I sucked it up and powered through.

"The reason I was so bitter about it was because I was concerned as your best friend, yes, but also because I was jealous. I'm in love with you, Yelena."

Shocked, she looked up at me, eyebrows raised. Realising what I said, I cursed inwardly and tried to backtrack. That wasn't how I planned to tell her.

"Sorry," I said quickly, "that's not fair. You're in a relationship and–"

"We broke up," she cut me off abruptly.

I blinked, confused. "What?"

"That's what I was going to tell you," she said softly. "I broke up with her. You were right. I deserve better."

It was my turn to be surprised, eyebrows raised and her words digesting. "Oh."

It went quiet between us, our words hanging in the air, and I didn't know what else to say when she watched me closely.

"I've been in love with you for a long time," she finally spoke, taking me by further surprise.

"What?"

She released a deep breath, sad smile on her lips. "You never knew and I couldn't tell you because you were my first real friend. And I didn't want to ruin that."

She'd been in love with me this whole time? How was I so blind to miss it?

"Since when?" I asked, like it would make a difference, genuinely shocked by this revelation.

She swallowed thickly. "Do you remember that time when we went out to that sushi place? And I accidentally dropped the soy sauce all over you?"

How could I forget? It was shortly after we became proper friends and was the funniest thing to happen at a sushi bar. I smelled like soy sauce the whole afternoon at work but I didn't even care because Yelena was so embarrassed it was adorable.

"Yeah," I answered quietly.

"Since then," she said awkwardly, looking away.

I opened my mouth to say something, but I didn't know what to say. I was too taken aback, overthinking every moment since that sushi date. She'd been in love with me for that long?

"Well, now what?" she asked nervously, a nervousness that was rare with her but reminded me she wasn't just the stoic assassin everyone thought she was.

I pressed my lips together, eyes studying her expression with intrigue. She was avoiding my stare, eyes glued to the ground, and I let mine fall from her bright eyes to the slope of her nose, the dip of her cupid's bow, the fullness of her lips. She loved me, too. But she wouldn't make the first move, that much was clear. Why wait any longer?

"Maybe I could take you out on a date," I offered, earning her attention. "A proper one. And I can show you how you're supposed to be treated. How you deserve to be."

I held my breath, portraying a confidence I definitely didn't feel inside. I was certain she was, too, the both of us awaiting an answer that felt like it wouldn't come.

And just at that moment, her phone began to ring.

Startled, she pulled it from her pocket and checked the screen before declining the call. Clutching it tightly, she looked up to me again, eyes flickering between mine.

"I–"

Her phone began to ring again, only making the nerves in my stomach tighten with each passing second.

"You should answer," I told her before she could decline it. "It could be important."

Reluctantly she nodded and let out an annoyed sigh, putting the phone to her ear. "Hello?"

I couldn't hear the conversation, but it sounded like her sister and there was a sense of urgency in her voice. Something must have been up. Yelena kept a passive expression, humming before promising to be there and saying her goodbyes.

"I'm sorry, I have to go," she said afterwards. "There's an emergency at the Compound."

I smiled, hoping she couldn't see my deflated expression, and shook my head. "No, it's okay. You go. I'll leave, too."

Turning around quickly with the only thought of mine to curl in my bed and sulk, I tried to leave, but Yelena grasped my hand and spun me back around. Before I could ask her what was up, she pulled me close and kissed me.

I closed my eyes, wrapping my arms around her waist like it was second nature, and kissed her back. It was gentle, lasting only a few seconds, but my cheeks flushed and my lips were tingling when she pulled away.

"I would love to go on a proper date with you," she muttered, a smile creeping on her lips. "It's all I've ever wanted."

I began to smile, too, speechless and breathless all at once. I could have stared at her for a long time, merely admiring her pretty eyes and heartwarming smile, but I remembered her sister's call and reluctantly pulled apart.

"You should go to the Compound, it sounded urgent," I told her.

As if suddenly remembering, she breathed out and nodded. "Right, yeah."

"Let me know if everything is okay and if we need to rearrange tomorrow," I told her, going to the door. "Be safe."

"I will," she promised, unable to stop smiling, just like me. "See you, Y/N."

"Bye," I said, bringing myself to leave because if I stayed a second longer, I knew I'd end up pulling her in for another kiss.

I left and the smile on my face was permanent, I was certain.

#marvel #marvel imagine #mcu #yelena belova imagine #yelena belova x you #yelena belova x reader #yelena belova #florence pugh #black widow #mcu imagine

[peakyltd]

New Endings - Part 4

A/N: SORRY THAT THIS TOOK ME SO LONG. But I made this chapter a bit longer, so hope that compensates somewhat. On the other hand I got carried away and there was no way to make it shorter so here's a win-win for us all 😜

Warnings: Swearing, insulting, threatening, physical violence/abuse, manipulation, mentions of a gun, a little bit alluding to smut? (not the real deal though)

Word count: 6.7k

MASTERLIST | PREVIOUS PART | NEXT PART

Particles of dust scattered all over the place as (Y/N) kept herself busy cleaning the house. After spending days inside with not much to occupy herself with, she started to get bored. The family house she stayed at remained basically untouched, so one and one made two.

Her cheeks were reddened from the warmth of the fire and the physical work she was putting into tidying the place. It felt satisfying to make herself useful while also getting time to think. Tommy’s harsh words lingered in her mind. He was right, she knew he was right but at the same time it felt so wrong. He was the last one to judge her, considering his own actions. The worst thing was that she hadn’t seen him anymore after their argument. The only person who’d stop by was Polly and although she appreciated her help, it didn’t feel right. Just as her mind took her further into a spiral of thoughts, she heard the front door open. She turned to see who it was, standing eye to eye with two men in long coats, both wearing peaked caps.

“Ello, love.” Arthur’s gruffy voice spoke up, a genuine smile on his face. John grinned at her as he stood beside his older brother. A smile started to break on her face and her eyes lit up as she took in the sight of the two brothers. “That's been a while."

“Nah, I spoke to you a few weeks ago.” John joked as he took his cap off. “How have you been holdin’ up ‘n here?” (Y/N) put the rag she was using, down. "I'm doing fine." She smiled at him. "How have you two been?"

"We're well." Arthur answered as he took his cap off. "We thought you'd might like some company." He slid the coat off his shoulders and hung it up on the rack. "Oh, well... I do actually." She chuckled. "Would you like some tea?"

"Nah, love. Tom said you got him some good whiskey. I'd like some of that." Arthur smiled. The mention of Arthur's nickname for Tommy made her think. He had talked about her, or probably at least about their evening. It made her wonder what else he had told them. "Did he send you to come see me?" She asked the oldest brother, questioning the sincerity of their visit. "No, like I said we thought you'd might like some company." He started as she watched him sit down on one of the chairs. "We're not here because of him."

She nodded, shifting her attention to John who just got rid of his cap and coat and had returned to the table. "Whiskey for you as well?" He shook his head as he rolled his toothpick to the other corner of his mouth. "Some tea for me." She chuckled softly, amused that the tough stance didn't say everything about him. " Alright, I'll be right back." John sat down and grinned. "Is that funny to you?"

"A little." She jokingly confessed. "I barely made it inside and she's making fun of me already." John complained to Arthur, his grin never leaving his face. "And you wonder why?" Arthur joked while leaning back in his chair.

"I'm having tea as well, you won't be the only odd one out here." (Y/N) teased as she made her way to the small kitchen. "Yeah, go on, make that tea. It's taking you long enough. It could've been done in the time you took to mock me." John called out, continuing his banter. He could hear her laugh coming from the kitchen which made him chuckle.

Once she returned with the drinks, she sat down with the two brothers. "I must say that I'm happy that you're here." She smiled at them. "It's pretty quiet sometimes."

"Can imagine. Don't you get out of the house?" Arthur wondered as he took a sip of his whiskey. She shook her head. "No. I... I'm too afraid, honestly." She softly confessed. Both brothers looked at her, not expecting the answer from her. "Afraid?" John repeated. "He's really been that bad to you, hm?"

"I guess so, yes." She uncomfortably moved in her seat. "We can go with you." Arthur kindly offered. "No need to be scared then." (Y/N) looked up at him, touched by his offer but unsure of accepting it. "I appreciate it but I don't want to bother you."

"It's no bother. What about this afternoon?" He suggested as he watched her nervously fumbling with her fingers. "Well, okay then." It would be good to get out of the house for a while and she finally could buy some things for herself, instead of asking Polly. This could be a first step back to the independence she had missed. "I'll pick you up at 2 then, yeah?"

"Thank you." She smiled before taking a sip of her tea. John took the warm cup between his hands. "I can't come, gotta do somethin' for Tom but I'm sure you two will be okay."

"Oh please don't worry about it." She tapped her fingers on her cup before putting it down. "I was actually wondering..." She looked at the two brothers in front of her as her heart started beating faster. "So I have been thinking a lot since I'm here and I..." She didn't understand why the words were so hard to get off her lips. "I was wondering if you maybe needed a hand at the betting shop? I mean Tommy gave me some money for food and clothes but he can't give me money forever. Besides that it just feels... weird."

John and Arthur looked at each other as silence followed after her question, both seeming to think about her question. "I mean no worries if you don't need anyone else. I-I just can't sit here and wait, you know? I'd rather work for it." She started rambling as her nerves and the uneasiness of the silence got the best of her.

John picked up on her uncomfortable state and smiled kindly at her. "First of all, calm down. It's just us." He chuckled. "But that's not something we decide about, although I think we could use a hand."

"Yeah, Tom and Pol are the ones concerning this." Arthur added, taking another sip of his whiskey. "Oh.. well, I haven't seen Tommy in days so I'll ask Polly when she's here again."

"I can ask them for you." John offered before Arthur interrupted him. "Or we could go see Tommy later this afternoon." His words made her palms feel sweaty, she didn't know if it was a great plan to go see him in his house unannounced. That, and she wasn't sure if she actually wanted to go there. "I don't know if that's a good idea." She retorted, her fingers playing with the fabric of her dress. "I think he's pretty busy." Arthur snorted as he shook his head. "He always is."

"We'll ask him first if it's okay, yeah? Think that makes her feel better." John interfered, knowing that there was something he couldn't quite put his finger on. She looked up at him, a small smile tugging on her lips. "It does."

"You can just tell us, love. We don't judge." Arthur's gruffy voice spoke up as he patted her shoulder gently. She shifted her gaze to him and chuckled softly. "I should've remembered."

After John and Arthur had left, she went back to doing her chores. While she hung her dresses to dry on the laundry rack, she thought about their visit. She enjoyed their company and it felt good to have a laugh with both of them. It reminded her of simpler times and how carefree she felt, although she probably wasn't the only one. She noticed how Arthur's face showed many signs of the stress he was enduring and despite John acting like he was alright, she could see he was suffering from it too. But what else could she expect from living a life like theirs. It was their choice and they had to deal with the consequences, however, she couldn't deny the fact that she'd rather had seen them in another state.

The honk of a horn brought her back to reality. She looked up at the clock to check the time and realized that Arthur was already back to pick her up. She quickly checked herself in the mirror, got her coat and purse and made her way outside. The chilly wind blew across her face, making her shiver before she took a deep breath of fresh air. Or, as fresh it could get in Small Heath. She took in her surroundings before she looked up at Arthur who was holding the car door open for her, like a real gentleman. She giggled as she approached him. "What do I owe this to?"

"I'm just treating the way you should be treated." He answered, a proud grin on his face. "Well, thank you sir. I appreciate it." She chuckled as she got in the car. Arthur shut the door and got in next to her, starting the car. "Tommy said he had time for you now." She turned her head to look at him, his words caught her by surprise. "Now?" She repeated, Arthur nodded in response. "Yeah, now. He was supposed to be at the betting shop but something came up or something." He shrugged while driving off. "I don't know but doesn't matter. We're meeting him at his house now."

"Right." It was the only word that she was able to say. An uneasy feeling made her stomach turn. She anxiously twisted the ring around her finger, trying to ease herself. During the ride she elaborated on some of the things she and Arthur spoke about that morning while he told a bit more about his current life. It helped her to get grip on the restless feeling and compose herself.

It wasn't until he pulled up to the driveway that led to Arrow House, her nerves came back while she was stunned by the huge mansion that was in front of her. "This is Tommy's house?" Her mouth was slightly agape as she stared at it in awe, not comprehending what she was looking at. "It is." Arthur chuckled. "Pretty big, eh?"

"Yeah... pretty big." She repeated as Arthur drove trough the gates. He parked the car in front of the enormous wooden doors. "My god." She muttered under her breath as she heard Arthur chuckle. "You should see inside, you can get lost in there." He told her before getting out. She opened the door herself and followed Arthur to the doors where he'd just knocked on. Not much later an older woman opened. "Ah, Mr. Shelby. Come in, your brother is waiting for you in his office." She kindly greeted him as she stepped aside. "Thank you, Frances." Arthur smiled at her as he walked in. "This is (Y/N), an old friend of ours." He introduced her to the maid.

"Nice to meet you." (Y/N) smiled at the older woman who kindly smiled back. "Nice to meet you too. Can I take your coat for you?" Frances questioned. "I- Yes, sure." She answered, she took her coat off and handed it to Frances. "Alright, come on. Tom is in 'ere." Arthur spoke up. She shot another smile at Frances before following the oldest brother.

She felt her heart racing as the uneasy feeling grew. She had to reassure herself it was just Tommy but that was the whole problem. It was Tommy. She didn't know what she could expect. Before she had the chance to think about it, Arthur had opened the office door already. "We're 'ere." He announced as he walked in, getting Tommy's attention. He looked up from the papers he was reading and let his eyes wander over her frame once she had entered. "Hi." Her voice was soft, her hands folded in front of her body. She took a quick glance at his office. The dark furniture stood out against the green walls while a few paintings of horses accompanied them.

"You can sit." His low voice filled the room as he gestured with his hand to the sofa in front of his desk. She looked at Arthur before she made her way to the sofa and sat down, putting her purse next to her. She leant her back against one of the soft cushions and rested her hands in her lap before looking up at him. "I didn't know you had glasses." She noticed, trying to break the tension. "Arthur, if you don't mind." He nodded his head towards the door. "Yeah, okay." A low mumble fell from his lips as he followed his younger brother's order.

His eyes focused back on the woman in front of him. She glanced right back at him, not wanting to show him how uncomfortable she felt. "I've had an injury." He explained it in his own way. "What?" She furrowed her eyebrows in confusion. "The glasses. I need them because of the injury." He simply stated. "Oh, I didn't know." She awkwardly mumbled.

"You came here because you needed something?" He swiftly changed the subject, not wanting to waste any time. "I was wondering if you might need a hand in the betting shop. It would be a great way to work for my money." She explained as her fingers played with the fabric of her dress. Tommy leaned back in his chair, his hands resting on his abdomen. "I mean, I can't just live of your money forever, can I?" She added, slightly nervous.

"You can but the question is if we both want that." His tone was emotionless as usual. She felt herself getting annoyed at his comment but decided to let it slide, the sooner she got out of there, the better. "Well I certainly don't want to."

"Then I'm sure you could help us out." He sighed. "You remember how to take bets?" He asked, leaning forward to get his glass of whiskey. She nodded. "I do."

"Tomorrow, 8 AM then." He took his glasses off and put them on top of his papers. Despite the weird tension between the two of them, she felt relieved. "I'll be there." She was about to get up when he spoke up again. "How are you?" His eyes curiously scanned her face. She unsurely leant back against the sofa again. "I'm doing okay. You?"

He nodded slowly as he got up, walking over to the front of his desk, making the gap between them closer. He leant against the edge of the wooden desk and crossed his arms. "Me too. I heard Arthur offered to go out with you?" She kept his gaze a little longer before breaking it, letting her eyes wander over the floor. "He did." Tommy grabbed his cigarette case and took one from it. "That's a great step forward for you." He wetted it between his lips before lighting it.

"What's that supposed to mean?" She couldn't hide the irritation in her voice. Tommy sighed before taking a drag of his cigarette. "I'm just saying that it's a good thing. Nothing more, nothing less." He put the whiskey that was in his hand on his desk while she moved to the edge of the sofa and grabbed her purse. "Whatever." A soft mumble left her lips as she got up. "Thank you for the job opportunity, I'll be there tomorrow morning." She didn't want to wait for his answer and decided to made her way to the door.

"(Y/N)." He stopped her by grabbing her upper arm. She turned her head to face him. "Yes?" Her annoyed tone indispensable as she watched the smoke ascend from his lips. "What's wrong?" His question was supposed to sound genuine, like he actually cared about what she thought but instead she was looking at a face that showed nothing and listened to a voice that matched it perfectly. "I don't know, Tommy. You tell me."

"Is it about what I said that night?" His hand still rested on her arm, the warmth of it confused her. "That and the fact you just disappeared for days." He turned to put his cigarette on the edge of the ashtray before turning back to her. "I wanted you to see what has happened to you."

She rolled her eyes as she shook her arm out of his grip. "And you thought that was the way to do it?" Her voice remained calm while she felt her body tense up. "Let's be honest, you wouldn't listen to it in any other way."

"Let's be honest and reverse it, shall we? Have you ever looked at yourself? Because you're a ghost of the person you once was as well and you're only becoming worse." She returned the questioned he asked her a few nights ago. Perhaps it was unfair, she knew exactly what he meant and his harsh words were supposed to be a wake up call but it still didn't sat right with her. Tommy stared intensely at her as she came closer. "And don't you dare to tell me that I don't understand what you've been trough. Because I was fucking there." Her calm voice seemed to break while her nails were digging into her purse.

"I said it because you deserve better." He specified while standing up straight. "Because I know how much it hurts you and because I don't want to stand at your fucking grave, regretting that I didn't say anything." She scoffed at his words, they were almost the same. He was just repeating them again. "Oh fuck off." She shook her head. "And with deserving better you mean yourself, don't you?"

He kept quiet for a moment while he looked into her eyes. "Tell me you didn't feel the same things as I did." He dared her. She felt his breath on her face, realising how close they were. "I don't know what you mean."

"You do. Now, tell me right now you didn't feel the same." She took a deep breath and looked down. "I didn't." The touch of his fingers on her chin alerted her, he tipped it up so she had no other choice than to look at him. "Look in me eyes and tell me again." He encouraged her, her eyes finding his as words got stuck in her throat. She did feel it, all of it but it must've been a moment of weakness. She couldn't have those feelings for him after years and if she did, she didn't only lie to herself but also to the man she promised to marry.

She leant into his touch, their faces only mere inches away from each other. "Say it." His voice was soft but demanding, her lips parted slightly but no words came out. Tommy closed the gap and captured her lips in a gentle kiss. She had been waiting for this since they exchanged knowing gazes the night of their dinner.

She dropped her purse before she let her hands rest against his chest, feeling the warmth of his body and a heartbeat that matched her own. Her lips discovered his. The soft feeling of them against hers, mixed with the intoxicating taste of cigarettes and whiskey, was one she had missed for so long. His hand moved from her chin to her cheek while the other found its way to her waist, pulling her closer. Her tongue carefully grazed his lips, almost begging him for more. While he granted her access, their tongues explored each other curiously. A soft moan left her mouth while her arms wrapped around his neck.

Tommy deepened the kiss, his arms sneaking around her waist, holding her tightly against his body. Her fingers ran trough the longer strands of his hair, softly tugging on it until she felt his lips leaving hers. Her eyes fluttered open to look at him, finding him looking back at her, his lips slightly apart and swollen from their intense contact. It took her a few seconds to realize that she needed more. More intimacy, more of him and only him.

She placed her hands on his cheeks, pulling him back in for another kiss. Lips crashed together, gentleness made place for neediness, both ready to devour each other right in that moment. His hand fumbled with her dress while hers slid under his suit jacket. His mouth moved from her lips to her neck, kissing her skin exactly the way he knew she loved it. Moans that came from her mouth only proving that he was doing the right thing.

As soon as she was able to get rid of his suit jacket and it hit the floor, her hands ran trough his hair, nails raking over the back of his neck as he softly sucked on her skin. She was lost in the moment until realisation struck her. "Tommy..." It sounded more like a moan than she intended to. He continued to kiss up to her jaw, his fingers struggling with the opening of her dress. "Tommy...wait." Her voice came out as a stammer, lost of any stability.

She felt his breath against her cheek as he had stopped kissing her. "What's wrong?" His low, hoarse voice gave her goosebumps. "I-I think we should stop here." Her eyes scanned his face, noticing his flushed face. "Alright." He pressed a soft kiss on her neck before his warm hands left her body. She took a deep breath and adjusted her dress while Tommy picked up his jacket and put it back on. "I'm sorry, I didn't want to give off the wrong signals." She apologized, picking her purse up from the floor.

"You didn't. I think you've told me enough with this." He responded, a knowing look in his eyes. A blush crept onto her face, turning her cheeks a rosy color. "Right." She mumbled as she took in the man in front of her once more. "You might want to get your hair a bit decent before Arthur comes in." She suggested, looking at the mess she made of his dark hair.

He ran his fingers a few times trough his hair to fix it. "I think he has seen worse things than that." Tommy deadpanned. "I don't want him to think that something happened." She confessed, her fingers nervously sliding over the straps of her purse. "Let him think." She nodded, unsure of what to do next. She glanced around the office before breaking the silence. "Well, I'll be at the betting shop at 8 then." She watched as Tommy lit a new cigarette and nodded. "Great."

As she turned to make her way to the door, Tommy spoke up again. "If everything goes well, I need you here tomorrow evening at 7." She turned back to look at him, her eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "Dinner." He simply stated. Her lips turned into a small smile, which she tried to hide. "I'll keep my schedule empty."

She walked up to the door, giving Tommy a last, quick glance before leaving his office. Once she closed the door, she still wore the smile he managed to give her. She looked around the large hallway, trying to find a glimpse of Arthur. Besides the amount of portraits she hadn't noticed before, there was no sign of the oldest Shelby. That was, until she heard a low grumble coming from the dining room, followed by a few curse words.

"Fuckin' 'ell." (Y/N) entered the dining room, stunned by the longest table she had seen accompanied by many dark, wooden chairs. Above the head of the table she found another portrait of Tommy and a horse. "What happened?" She asked as she walked over to Arthur, who she found on his knees on the floor. "Dropped the fuckin' cup." He was holding the shards in his hands as he got up. "I don't get why they give me these smoll cups." She couldn't help but chuckle. "I hope they weren't too expensive." She joked, earning a smile from Arthur. "Ah well, Tommy can afford some new cups. Anyway," He put the shards on top of the table. "Got the job?" He questioned, hopefully looking at her. "I did." She smiled. "I can start tomorrow."

"Isn't that great news!" He exclaimed while he pulled her into a hug. "Welcome back, sister."

The car ride from Arrow House to the market felt much more relaxed, the tension was gone and after some banter with Arthur, she felt the best she had felt in months. While Arthur reminisced about the past and how his life in Small Heath used to be, she couldn't help but think about the kiss she had shared with Tommy. It was something she didn't knew she needed so badly. She never found the exact feeling he gave her with someone else and although David came close, it wasn't the same.

"Do you remember?" Arthur turned his head to look at (Y/N), getting her attention. "I- Yes of course I do." She lied, no clue what he was talking about. "You almost killed me." He laughed as he focused his eyes back on the road. "I hope you're better with guns now because I don't want to experience such a thing ever again."

She finally grasped what he was talking about, the memories of the brothers teaching her how to use a gun was pretty much an event itself. "Yeah, I'm still sorry about that. I panicked." She chuckled. "Me too." Arthur laughed. "It was only a few centimeters between life and death."

"I remember Polly wasn't too happy when she saw all of our scared faces when we came in and you made it even worse with your awful lie." (Y/N) giggled at the thought of the disappointed look on their aunts face. "Well Finn, could've fired the gun, ya know."

"Finn was with her the whole time." She countered. Arthur gave her quick glance as he thought about it. "Ah yeah, that was it." His answer made (Y/N) laugh. "Good ol' times." He chuckled as he parked his car on the sidewalk. She looked at the street in front of her, many market stalls stood on each side of it and a crowd of people were curiously looking at them. She just had to do it, after that it would become much easier. She took a deep breath and got out of the car, Arthur did the same and waited for her in front of it.

"Have you been here before?" She asked while she walked up to him. "I'm not the type of man that likes to go shopping." He chuckled. "I see." A smile formed on her face. "What about your wife?"

"Sometimes, although she prefers the smaller one, closer to home." He answered. She wanted to ask him another question when a young man approached him from behind. "Mr. Shelby? You have a flat tyre." He pointed at one of the tyres of the car. "For fucks sake." Arthur grumbled as he walked over to the back of the car, inspecting the tyre. "Fuck."

"Everything alright?" She wondered as she came up to the side of the car. "I have to fix this, love. It might take a bit of time." He replied as he looked up at her, she could see the guilt in his eyes. "It's fine." She looked at the crowded market over her shoulder before looking back at him. "I can go by myself."

"Are you sure?" He wondered, getting a nod from her in response. "If you stay here, I think I'll be alright." She gave him a nervous smile. "I won't but also can't go anywhere." He joked, giving her shoulder a gentle squeeze. "I can help." The young man offered. "Might be even quicker then."

She looked at him and nodded before switching her attention back to Arthur. "I'll meet you back here." It sounded more like a question. "Yes ma'am." He gave her a reassuring wink. She answered his gesture with a small smile before making her way to the market. The grip on her purse tightened when she went up in the crowd of people, making sure to avoid any eye contact with anyone, only looking at the products vendors tried to sell.

While she passed the various stalls, the sun appeared from behind the clouds. Warm sunrays caressed her face, natures way to give her a needed embrace of comfort. A sigh escaped her mouth as she felt the tension on her shoulders lessen, a kind of lost confidence within her growing at the same time. It was the first time in weeks that it felt like everything would be okay.

She continued her walk past the stalls, buying flowers, food and even treated herself on a new dress. While having a brief conversation with the kind lady who stood behind the stall, she quickly glanced over to the spot where Arthur had parked his car. Although she could barely see him due to the people who blocked her view, it seemed he was still busy with the flattened tyre. After she finished her conversation she decided to go see one more stall before returning back to the car. She felt proud of herself that despite the fear of going out, she did it on her own. Just like she used to do.

While she turned around, her heart dropped and a cold feeling filled her senses. She turned back, her eyes frantically looking for Arthur as she pushed past a few people. A sickening wave of terror welled up from her stomach. She quickened her pace until someone blocked her path, a hand kept her from moving by holding her arm firmly. "There you are. I've been looking for you."

Her widened eyes looked in disbelief at the man in front of her. "David..." She tried to look past him, hoping that Arthur would've seen them and was on his way to come help her but he wasn't. "Why don't we go talk, hm?" He gently stroked his knuckles over her cheek while she tried not to flinch. "No, let me go." Her voice came out softer than she had hoped, all the confidence she had felt moments ago had left her body within seconds.

"Listen, we can play this the easy way or the hard way." His voice sounded kind but his eyes told her otherwise. She fought herself out of his grip and quickly ran past him, hoping to reach Arthur as fast as she could. She didn't came far as she had hoped when she got yanked back by her wrist, his other hand grabbed her neck harshly. They earned some questionable looks from a few people but nobody dared to speak up. She could feel his breath against her ear as he forced her to look at the car in the distance. "Hard way then." His grip tightened even more. "You see that guy who's helping that Shelby scum?" He growled in her ear, she nodded quickly in response.

"One order from me and he makes sure that changing a flattened tyre is the last thing Arthur Shelby will do. Understood?" The threatening words and immense fear brought tears to her eyes. "I said understood?" He shook her harshly. "Y-yes." She croaked out, her lip trembling. "Great, lets go somewhere quiet." He pushed her towards an alley, away from all the people who were her only chance for help. Once they were out of sight, he turned her around and pressed her back hard against the brick wall behind her, making her drop some of her groceries. A soft whimper left her lips as she felt a stinging pain in her back.

He trapped her with his body and grabbed her cheeks harshly between his fingers. "What a fucking surprise to find you here." His eyes were dark, spewing the anger that was raging inside him into her frightened ones. "You really think you'd be safe with Thomas fuckin' Shelby, didn't you? Is this why you met up with the bastard?"

She tried to shake her head but he restrained her from doing so. "Fucking speak!" He barked at her. "N-no, we just-" She panicked as she watched his face come closer. "You what?" He spat at her. "We just talked. It's true, everything I've told you, i-is true. It really is." She blurted out, afraid of what his next step could be. The morning when he forced to tell her what she had done the night she met with Tommy, playing in her head.

A humorless laugh fell off his lips. "You're going to tell me you just talked to someone we are trying to get rid of, then you run away from me and now you're living in his fucking house. Is that what it is? Because that’s exactly what it sounds like to me!" He narrowed his eyes, the grip on her face tightening. "What have you told those god damn gypsies?! Or were you working for them all along?! Like the fucking whore you are!" Her body trembled while he screamed at her, her hands pulling onto his, in hopes that he would let go of her face.

"I didn’t say anything. I just couldn't take it anymore." Her voice trembled with fear. "Couldn't take what anymore." He hissed. "The beating. It was too much." A few tears ran down her cheeks when he let go of her face and took ahold of her wrist. "But darling, you did that to yourself." He wiped away her tears with his thumb while she tried to turn her face away from him. He firmly grabbed her jaw. "See, you're doing it again. You never listen."

"Stop, David." She begged. "I don't want this anymore. Please. I don't want to marry you." A small smile appeared on his face as he shook his head. "Oh, don't say stupid things now." He lifted her hand, his fingers tapping the shiny ring on her finger. "Why are you still wearing this then?" Her eyes fell on the ring while she gulped harshly. "Because I didn't know. I-I didn't know what to do."

"Exactly. You know damn well that you want to go trough with this, you still love me. If you really wanted to end this all you would've got rid of it the moment you got in that fuckers car." He let go of her hand and took a step back while her eyes followed him. "You know I should take you home now, teach you a lesson about running away like a fucking child." He paused his sentence as he looked at her with the most vile look she had ever seen. "But since you wanted to play it the hard way, you'll get it the hard way."

He opened his coat, the holster of his gun appearing underneath it. Her heart starting beating faster and her lips began to tremble, she wanted to run but she stood frozen in the same spot. He took another gun out of his coat and held it up while he inspected it just a second too long. "David, please. I-I'll just come home, okay? I’m so sorry." He looked up at her and chuckled. "Oh, this one is not to kill you, love." He tapped on the gun holster underneath his coat. "However this one might."

He stepped closer to her, grabbing her hand while forcing her to take the gun from him. “You’ll show me how sorry you are.” The cold metal touched the skin of her trembling hands, her glossy eyes still focused on his face. “What do you mean?” Her voice was barely a whisper, scared of whatever he wanted from her. “You’re going to take those Shelby’s out. One by one.”

"No...No no, I won't. I refuse to do it." Tears streamed down her face. "I'll come home and I'll do whatever you want, I promise. I'm sorry David, I really am. I don't want to get involved in your business." She tried to hand him the gun back but he pushed her back into the wall behind her, a soft groan left her lips from the sudden impact, the other belongings in her hand dropping on the cobblestones. He shook his head. "Look at you, I can't believe you think that tinker's lifer is worth more than yours." He clenched his jaw while he wrapped his hand around her throat, making it hard for her to breath. "You have no choice. It's a fucking order. You brought this upon yourself, once again. Now deal with the fucking consequences."

She tried to tear his hand away from her throat but it only resulted of him tightening his grip and cutting of her air supply while she was scratching his arm in panic. "You don't want to be the reason each of your family members will end up with a bullet in their head, do you?" He stroked her cheek gently with his other hand until he released his other hand from her throat. She gasped desperately for air while more tears streamed down her face. "I'll give you 3 weeks." A sick, twisted smile grew on his face as he watched her regain her breath slowly.

"Look at the mess you made." He pointed at the stuff she bought, scattered all over the cobblestones. "Pick it up." He demanded as he watched her try to gather everything together, all while still trying to catch her breath. He let his hand rest on her back, making it seem as a nice gesture before giving her a firm push which caused her to fall hard. Her knees scraped over the stones, leaving a tear in her dress. A soft sob left her mouth before she looked up at him. He towered over her, looking at her like she was just a piece of garbage, unworthy to be even treated like a normal human being. "Midland next Thursday, 9AM. You can tell me about the progress then."

She watched as he walked away, leaving her alone in the quiet alley. He had humiliated her, like he had done so many times before but this time it wasn’t even the worst thing. He forced her to get involved into his problems or rather forced to solve his problems and there was no way for her to win. More tears fell down her cheeks while her trembling hands picked up her belongings. Her eyes fell on the gun David had forced upon her, she wanted to leave it there, far away from her, from everyone but the fear of him finding out was too big to ignore. She grabbed it and stuffed quickly into the side of her bra, safely under her dress so that Arthur wouldn't see it.

Arthur. Fuck. He was probably looking for her. She got up and took a deep breath. While she adjusted her dress she noticed that the tear in her dress stood out too much to hide. She had to think of something to tell him, just a quick believable lie. She made sure her coat covered her dress while she wiped away her tears. Her hands gripped tightly on her belongings before she left the alley and returned to the market.

While she walked back, she saw Arthur coming her way with a worried look on his face. "There you are. I was looking for ya." She smiled kindly at him while she tried not the break down the moment she heard his voice. He noticed her teary eyes and her ripped dress. "Are ya alright? What happened?" She looked down at her dress before looking back to him, a sigh left her lips. "I fell."

"I've walked back and forth over this damn market and hadn't seen a sign of you once. Where did you fell?" He asked, his suspicion raising. "I was trying to find a favorite spot of mine." She lied. "I came there often when I was little." Arthur looked at her. "You came here often?" He asked again. "With my grandma, yes. But I tripped and fell on those fucking cobblestones. Let me tell you, it still hurts as bad as when we're little." She joked while a soft chuckle escaped her mouth.

Arthur thought back at the painful childhood memory. It made sense, the ripped dress, the teary eyes. She must've fallen. He put his hand on her shoulder, his way of showing comfort. "Are you alright?" He sincerely wondered. "I'm alright."

Taglist: @cyphah @kissforvoid @liter4ti @raincoffeeandfandoms @casa-boiardi

#tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby fanfic #tommy shelby series #tommy shelby one shot #peaky blinder fanfic #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders imagine #tommy shelby imagine

[abcdegcf]

Small Crime

You find out that your boyfriend of seven years has been cheating on you. Instead of leaving your shared apartment, you end up wrapped around his arms. Or wherein a tumultuous relationship is separated into four theatre acts.

Word count? 3.6K

Genre? Angst, smut, established toxic relationship (Fem. Reader x Jungkook)

Contents and/or warnings? Infidelity, explicit language, unprotected sex, vaginal fingering, oral (f. receiving), degradation, Jungkook's an indecisive jerk and a walking red flag

Author's note? The plot of this fic is highly inspired by the song 9 Crimes by Damien Rice, I listened to it a lot while writing this short fic for the most part. A specific part of this story though is based on a scene from a film called Closer (2004) starring Julia Roberts — which is one of my favourite films and is originally a dramatic play. Please take note that I do not condone nor support any forms of cheating. As always, please let me know what you think of this one by sending an ask — I'd appreciate it a lot. (P.S. This was posted in my previous account for a different idol, so this may seem familiar)

It would have been a normal Saturday night for Jeon Jungkook. He could imagine himself munching on burgers while watching a lame series on Netflix with you. You'd probably be curled up in a blanket against him with his arm wrapped around you as he traced random figures on your back with his fingertips. He could picture the both of you stealing glances of each other then laughing because that's what you used to do back in college — when everything still felt perfect. He could've been spending the night with you if he didn't fuck up.

But he did.

ACT I : THE WRONG KIND OF PLACE

"It's okay, she won't ever find out."

What a stupid statement. At the end of the day, he knows you'll find out about this cursed affair.

Instead of messing around the kitchen to tease you while you're cooking for dinner, he's pacing around his mistress' apartment. He's never felt this anxious before. When the affair first started, there was no trace of guilt that he’s feeling right now. He thought he loved the woman and appreciated her company at times when you’re not around. But he can’t help but look back at the many instances where he thought of you when he was fucking her. Maybe, he thinks to himself. Maybe it has always been you.

He hasn’t seen you nor heard from you for days — only because he decided to stay away in order to fix himself. Well, that's what he told you but it's far from the truth. Because if that was the case, he would've never answered any of her calls offering him some sort of comfort. He wouldn't even be here waiting for her in this damn apartment in the first place.

"You can stay here as long as you want... with me," was what she said. He still remembers the satisfied smile on her lips, probably assuming that he's decided to end things with you. How can he allow someone to falsely believe that he's choosing them?

Jungkook tugs on his hair, kneeling on the floor out of frustration. He wants to scream and shout at himself for starting something he knew he would have trouble ending. For starting something that will hurt the both of you.

And her, of course.

But especially you.

He's an indecisive jerk. An asshole for thinking about you in his mistress' apartment. A piece of shit who belongs in the trash for cheating on you. Words aren't even enough to describe what kind of person he is right now. No amount of insult can cover up the fact that he was fucking someone behind your back and didn't feel any sort of guilt while doing those forbidden acts. He can call himself the worst person but he knows damn well it won't change a thing — he fucked everything up.

Jungkook stands up from the floor before grabbing his phone out of his pocket. He goes straight to his inbox to read every message you've sent. The messages he hasn't read for weeks. The messages he could've and should've answered. He did everything to ignore you and everyone close to you. He hasn't even talked to his close friend Kim Taehyung because he knew his friend would've told him the harsh truths. He's only been relying on his mistress — who probably thinks he's choosing her. But is he really?

"Jungkook, I’m worried about you." One of your messages read.

Jungkook gently slams his forehead repeatedly against the wall. The sight of you anxiously waiting for him in the living room flashes in his mind. It happened so much that he's memorized that image. You've always been patient with him — only giving him an understanding smile whenever he shrugs off the simple questions that would leave your lips such as "why were you late?" and "how was your day?"

"Can you at least send an emoji? I don't know where you are and I'm really worried." Another one read. Why should you feel worried? Shouldn’t you feel mad at him instead?

But of course you’re not. Yet.

"Jungkook, I miss you. Just please come back."

You’re clueless — having no idea that he has been fucking someone behind your back, oblivious to the fact that he's been foolishly thinking he's in love with someone that isn't you and unaware that somebody else is kissing his lips that's supposed to be only yours. That he promised only belongs to you. You're so naïve to think he wasn't coming home to anyone else but you.

Your friends are right — you're too kind and trusting for your own good.

"Just come back home. I already have five bags of ramen ready for you and guess what? Hugs."

The thought of being back in your arms comes into Jungkook's mind. He misses your touch. Your kisses, even. Yours are soft and slow compared to his mistress' quick and harsh ones. He's never longed for you like this. Fuck, it didn't even cross his mind that this day would come. The day where he needs to choose between someone he thinks he truly loves and someone who satisfied him at times when he wasn't.

He was a jerk who thought he could have both.

Scrolling to the last message you sent to him, he can't help but laugh. Not because he finds this whole situation funny but because he doesn't know what to do anymore. He doesn't realize that while those laughs are coming out of his mouth, tears are already streaming down his face. He wants you back. He needs you more than before. But does he even deserve you in the first place? Hell no.

"Do you still love me?" your message read.

He's close in pressing the call button, wanting to hear your voice again. Just one hello from you is all he needs right now. But he's soon reminded by the reality when he hears his mistress call out his name.

ACT II : I'VE GOT NO EXCUSE

It’s not your fault but why do you feel like it is? It’s not you who cheated but why does it feel like you did something wrong? Why does it feel like you committed a crime? You can’t help but wonder — if you did better, would he still cheat? If you had known from the start, would he stop? If you weren’t so clueless, would it had been less painful?

Your name falls from Jungkook's lips but you don’t dare look at him. If you do, you might have to commit an actual crime. Be it an aggravated assault or murder.

Looking at each other used to be comforting but that’s not the case anymore. Looking at you reminds him of how both of you used to be so good together and looking at him reminds you of what he did. It makes you feel sick. You can’t even handle looking at him, let alone feel his presence.

"Can you at least talk to me?"

Jungkook stops himself from reaching out to you. As much as he wants to hold you in his arms and kiss you, he knows damn well not to. You'd hate him more for it.

You gather the courage to give him the coldest look you’ve never given him before. He’s never given you the reason to and you can’t help but wish it stayed that way.

"At least talk to you? Can you even hear yourself?" you cross your arms, taking a few steps closer to Jungkook. But not close enough for him to lay a finger on you. You swear to yourself that you won’t let him. No matter how much you miss his warmth.

"Well Jungkook, can you at least explain to me why?"

You expect him to say something — explain himself, give a reason even though you know damn well there isn’t any and there shouldn’t be, but he stays quiet. He tears his eyes away from you. He’s told himself he’ll be brave enough to face you but he can’t. Not when you’re staring right into his soul.

The intense silence is killing the both of you and you want it to end, so you come up with the worst question you could’ve ever asked.

"Did you fuck her good?"

You already know the answer but you want to hear it straight out of his mouth.

Jungkook's lips parted but no sound came out of it for a moment.

"Tell me," you demand. "Did you fuck her good?"

"Yes."

"How many times?"

"I don’t—

"How many—

"Fucking hell, Y/N! Too many times, okay?"

Just hearing it is enough to break you down. Tears are already streaming down your face but you don’t dare make a sound. Not in front of someone who’s unworthy. Not in front of him.

You swallow what seems like a lump in your throat.

"Did you fuck her on my birthday?"

You hear your name come out of Jungkook's lips. "What do you— why are you even—

"Goddamn it, Jungkook. Just tell me the truth," you snap. "It’s not like it will make the situation less worse if you tell me."

"Yes!" he admits. "Yes, I fucked her on your birthday. We fucked all night while you’re here waiting for me. We did it on the couch, in the shower, on her bed, everywhere. Are you fucking happy to know?"

Jungkook immediately regrets saying that. You can’t even blame him anymore. You demanded an answer and he gave it. Before you can even realize it, you start sobbing. Keeping your head down, you cover your face with both hands. You don’t want him to see you like this — tired and absolutely broken.

Maybe even beyond that.

You’re fucked up.

Jungkook calls out your name.

He can’t handle seeing you like this. If only he had thought about it before cheating on you.

He takes a few steps closer and pulls you into a hug. You can’t even push him away because fuck, you miss him. You feel pathetic but you have to admit it to yourself that as much as you hate him, you still long for him. You still want to be in his arms. You still want to feel him.

A few moments have passed and you’ve finally calmed yourself down. You wipe your tears off of your cheeks with the back of your hands. Jungkook even has the courtesy to help you out with your snot by wiping them away with his shirt.

You look up at him, still in his arms. "I want you to fuck me."

Before the man towering over you can even process what you said in his head, you have already captured his lips with yours. This isn’t right, you both thought to yourselves but none of you can even stop.

You both want each other. The way your hands tug his hair and the way he hold you tightly against his chest is enough to prove that.

You break the kiss to unbuckle his belt, slipping your fingers into his waistband. "I want you to fuck me like how you fucked her that night. You better not hold yourself back, you bastard."

Just one more taste, you tell yourself. One more taste and you’re done.

ACT III : LEAVE ME OUT WITH THE WASTE

This isn’t what you expected. Far from what you expected. What’s happening now was never part of your plan nor how you thought this night would end — discarded clothes, just two people who stupidly can’t get enough of each other exchanging saliva.

You’ve almost forgotten how addictive Jungkook's kisses are. It used to be a running joke between the two of you that once you start kissing him, you’ll always end up sitting on his lap and begging for more.

"You’re going to regret this," he reminds you in between kisses. "You’ll hate me for this."

"I already hate you enough to even think about this," you say with so much haste before diving in for another kiss.

Your wandering hands find their way on his hair, tugging on it as you deepen the kiss by sliding your tongue in. He tastes like cherry, you think to yourself. Is that what his other woman tastes like? You can’t help but wonder if he ever did something with her before coming in here. That thought alone makes your blood boil.

You continue to kiss Jungkook with so much frustration but ever slowly, to which he responds with muffled moans. His hands move to your hips as he starts giving sloppy kisses to your neck. You bite your lower lip to suppress a moan as he kneels down before you.

He starts planting light feathered kisses on your thighs, purposely avoiding contact where you need him the most. One of your hands grab a fistful of his hair, the other covering your mouth to stop yourself from making a sound.

You look down and almost immediately, you’re reminded that you had just found out he had been cheating on you. "I hate you so much."

"Do you really, Y/N?" Jungkook scoffs, looking at you in amusement. "You say that but here you are ready for my cock."

It’s true though. You are indeed ready for Jungkook. It’s been months since you two ever had sex, no thanks to the girl he’s fucking behind your back. You were deprived of intercourse and intimacy. Of love. You'd like to believe you deserve some action—rightfully so. And besides, giving your boyfriend a parting gift that'll make him regret what he did won't hurt you. Hopefully.

Jungkook stands up, towering over you as he slips one of his hands inside his boxer. You lay down on the bed, never taking your eyes off of him. You slip off of your underwear without a struggle as he starts stroking his quickly hardening cock.

You slip a finger on your already wet pussy, a moan coming out of your lips. "Fuck."

Jungkook is aware that you haven’t touched yourself for quite some time. He hasn’t either. Why would he when the woman’s hands were better? He mentally slaps himself for even thinking about another person. He distracts himself by watching you touch yourself. He can’t help but imagine how tight you are right now, how amazing it would be to feel your wet pussy around his cock.

You were about to insert a second finger when Jungkook pushes your hands away. Before you can even complain, he already has his head in between your legs. You bite your finger when you feel him breathing against your pussy.

"So fucking wet for me already, baby?" he purrs, the tips of his fingers running along your slit. He pulls the digits away, putting them inside his mouth instead to have a taste.

You watch him as he sucks the wetness from his fingers, cleaning them off. He slides one of his fingers without notice, rubbing circles into your clit before sliding in another one. He can’t help but admire the way your pussy swallows his fingers. This is far better than what he imagined.

"Fuck, I missed your pussy."

"Oh really? If you did, you wouldn't have fucked that bitch—

You had to stop midway when Jungkook starts pressing kisses — above your clit, to the side and then to the other. With each press of his lips, your hips twitch and squirm.

Your lips part in a gasp when you feel the tip of his tongue dipping down to your core. "Shit."

He flattens his tongue against your clit, lapping slowly over it. Your hand lay themselves on the back of his head, fingers lacing through his hair as you desperately whine for more. His hands hold both of your legs in place, his fingers digging into your thigh.

Jungkook traces the inside of your pussy with his tongue, thrusting inside. You let out a yelp as he lifts your leg over his shoulder.

"Jungkook," you call out his name.

He looks up at you, pulling his mouth away. One of your hands reach out to his as he starts thrusting faster. Fast enough to have your hips bucking against his fingers to match his pace. "Oh my god."

You want more and it seems like he won’t be stopping anytime soon so you yank his hair hard. "Just please fuck me."

He doesn’t need to be told twice, especially after everything’s that happened, the least he can do is let you be in control. He steps out of his boxers before lowering himself on the bed to hover his body over yours.

"I love you," Jungkook whispers, leaning his forehead against yours. "Fuck, I really do."

A part of you wants to believe that he means it. That even after all what happened, everything would be okay in the morning. That you’d forget about it. They’re all just false hopes, the other part of you reminds.

Jungkook's thumb brushes against the curve of your breast as his lips press a wet trail of kisses on your collarbone then onto your ear. He cups your breast, his fingers pinching your nipple. You hear yourself let out a series of quiet whimpers as soon as he wraps his soft lips around your nipple.

You arch your back. "Oh my— fuck, Jungkook."

"Do you want this?"

You nod, squeezing your eyes shut. "Just— just fuck me already."

He doesn’t waste time. He spits on his hand before wrapping them around his cock, carefully stroking it. Adjusting himself above you, you feel the ridge of his length brush against your clit. You hold onto his shoulders, trying to stop yourself from making any more sound.

"I need you," you moan, squirming underneath him. "I need your cock."

Jungkook guides his cock to your entrance, finally plunging himself into you. He watches you as your face twists after every added inch. With his cock finally buried inside you, he lets out a grunt as you pair it with a cry. He feels your nails digging into his shoulders, adding more pleasure.

He pulls himself back before snapping his hips forward again. You bring your legs up, wrapping them around his waist. Shaky breaths fall from your lips as he continues thrusting into you. Each thrust becoming more forceful and faster, your body sliding up and down the mattress.

One of his hands grab yours, slamming them down on the mattress above your head. With your nose touching, you stop yourself from kissing him. Everything’s becoming too intimate and you don’t like it. Not because you don’t want it. You’re just scared that you might find it hard to leave the moment this night ends.

"My baby feels so good," he whines, your name along with a few curses falling from his lips over and over. "You’re doing so well for me."

Jungkook grits his teeth, fucking you harder. You can tell he’s more desperate than before and so are you. With one of his hands holding your leg, you feel his fingers dipping into your skin. He looks down to where his cock is fucking into your pussy, admiring the view.

You feel the swell inside your pussy as your walls tighten around his cock.

"I’m gonna— holy shit, you’re gonna make me come," he whispers into your ear before he tips his head back, eyes shut as his deep grunts turn into frantic high pitched moans. "Y/N, you're gonna make me come."

You push some of his hair out of his face as you feel your orgasm finally hitting you.

"You’re gonna come for me, yeah?"

You can’t utter a word, humming in response instead.

His hips continue to move, his pace less consistent compared before.

As your slippery cunt sucks him right back in for the final thrust, he spills deep inside of you. He trembles, capturing your mouth with his. He cups your cheek with his hand that was previously holding your leg and gives your forehead a gentle kiss.

"Just so you know, I didn’t fuck her like this," Jungkook says, laying his head on your chest. "Never like this."

And he means it.

But you sure as hell don’t believe it.

ACT IV : THE FINAL ACT

Jungkook quietly admires you as his fingers intertwine with yours. In his mind, everything’s fine — he has stopped the affair and he’s now back in your arms. To him, you have already accepted him back to your life the moment you pulled him in for a kiss last night. And he's ready to leave all of that past shit behind.

You force a smile as you watch him gently plant a kiss on each of your fingertips before pulling you closer to him.

"I love you. Always remember that, okay?" he gives you a warm smile, not knowing that you'll be leaving him in the morning.

"I love you too," you tell him, cupping his cheek.

He deserves at least one photo. One photo that will remind him of something or someone he lost and will never get back. For you, that's the perfect revenge. You'll leave the rest of the work for karma to do.

Maybe you can pretend he never cheated. Maybe it’s easier to move on that you thought it would be. Maybe he’s never really stopped loving you at all. Those are just some of the things that kept you up all night but are not enough to stop you from leaving. You’ve had your taste and now’s the time to go.

When Jungkook was asleep, you took the opportunity to take everything that will remind him of you. Your clothes, the photo albums that both of you treasured for years and even the anniversary presents you once thought were special. You almost wanted to bring this framed photo of you and him smiling at the beach but you decided against it.

Jungkook should’ve never felt relieved that night. He regrets falling for his false hopes that what happened last night was enough to make you stay. Because the moment he opens his eyes with his arm searching for your absent body in the morning, you’re gone.

Just gone.

Every trace of you is gone as if you never existed at all. It almost made him question if what happened last night was ever real at all.

#jeon jungkook smut #jungkook smut #bts jungkook smut #bts smut

[northwest-cryptid]

i am going to tell you the hopkins lore i pulled out of my ass. this isnt canon

i think hopkins isnt. really all that awful to be honest. objectively hes just. average for the city. hes seen as awful because hes an obstacle to the player, but like. his crime is stealing enkephalin and fucking off, while fucking over his coworker he didnt really like

i see ppl who say he doesnt care about aya which is probably intended by projmoon but i see it less as that and more he doesnt really...want to express emotions in front of the limbus crew? he openly mocks yuri and the sinners dying and does not hesitate to stab them in the back right after aya dies

and he doesnt mock aya when she dies. actually he barely says anything at all that isnt about dante not being able to speak. hes completely silent otherwise. which could be because of yuri freaking out but he usually pokes at yuri?

so to me i think he did care, he just didnt want to show weakness. is he an ass? yeah, but hes not uniquely an ass. hes just normal for the city, and honestly he makes a good point about the sinners going in entirely unprepared for anything lol

I cannot tell you how much I appreciate the opening sentence to this all because telling me straight up "this is a product of my own thoughts" helps a ton!

Also yea go off fam, I don't mind this sort of thing when I know what I'm dealing with. It's the mix of fandomization with actual facts of the canon narrative sprinkled in just enough to be confusing that bugs me.

Also I don't recognize the name, but I love the point of like "sure this person is an asshole but there's nothing about him that is actually worse than anyone else in the city."

I think that's something a lot of people forget about the Proj Moon universe. We sorta view it like it's our world but just different, if we lived in the city we'd all do what we needed to in order to survive.

I'm not a violent person, I have no reason to kill or hurt anyone and considering the world we live in I likely, hopefully; never will. However if I lived in the city I'd absolutely carry weapons regularly and I'd live by the core rules of "kill them before they can kill you" and "never leave yourself vulnerable" like hell Roland was arguably a saint compared to most since a lot of what he did, he did for the reasons of living a better life with his wife and child where they'd be safe and we all know how that turned out for him so like...

The city is not "Earth with our current society but a little different and quirky" it's a society where people do shitty things on the regular just to get by, to survive at the bare minimum.

If we judge individuals of that universe using their in world circumstances it's actually interesting how people who in our world would be shitty horrible awful no good people are basically your run of the mill asshole no different from that Karen at starbucks who yells at the barista, is that a horrible asshole thing to do? Absolutely, but it doesn't mean I think said Karen deserves like, death or something; she's just a dick but that's not like uniquely dickish.

By Proj Moon standards this dude sounds like a petty thief and a dick at worst, not like some super villain who's experimenting on children or murdering people for the sake of their own enjoyment and empowerment. Sure it sounds like he's a manipulative asshole but he's not AYIN or like, any of the Ensemble who arguably were bigger dicks for their actions (outside of victims like Philip who turned to the Ensemble for arguably sad reasons and yes should still be held accountable for their shitty behavior but weren't as bad as say the lady who wanted to kill people because only the strong deserve to live or some shit.)

[defeateddetectives]

Pick and choose from the following :>

3 for k, 4, 6 for k, 6 for not k, 7, 12, 17, 19, 23, 25

gonna answer the unspecified ones for k as well bc i'm overjoyed about an excuse to choose violence about this (un)dead horse of a fandom over a decade later so thank u :D skipped 4, 19, & 25 bc nothing came to mind or i couldn't remember. rest under cut bc it got long rip

3. screenshot or description of the worst take you’ve seen on tumblr i do not have screenshots of any takes like 11 yrs later but i think everyone who had to put up with me circa 2k12 and the years onwards probably knew it was the whole ~mikoto only cared about one (1) person/thing and everything else was meaningless~ shtick -- the antithesis of which i apparently then made the hill i was gonna die on :)

honourable mention to that one arcade fire lyric being directly attributed to him as a quote as well though. like. what was that

6. which ship fans are the most annoying?

look i am older and wiser than 11 years ago! i will let humans have complexities!!! i am friends with people who ship things i don't ship!!! all ships have rights i suppose!!! it's mktts*

*for legal reasons this is now a joke :')

for non-k...hmmm i remember v*ltron fandom reaching new heights of toxicity i'd never thought possible but i've fortunately eternal sunshined most of that from my memory now!

7. what character did you begin to hate not because of canon but because how how the fandom acts about them?

hmm i dont think hate is the right word. i think if anything, fandom 'flattened' how i saw some characters and i had to like sit with my interpretations in more or less a vacuum to figure them out when writing them. misaki and totsuka come to mind for obvious reasons bc they were so often only considered in the context of a ship and i've had to flesh them out in a way that make sense to me for a while. on the flipside, i couldn't stand the vast majority of the fanon takes on fushimi but he is SUCH a fun playground of a character in canon!

12. the unpopular character that you actually like and why more people should like them

not unpopular as in disliked but more like overlooked - but i think more people should get obsessed with hidaka like me and then write me super niche hisaru fic!!!!! <3

17. there should be more of this type of fic/art

it would be Really Nice if chiaki and i weren't pretty much carrying the mikoizu fandom on our backs :'))) but my running joke has always been that my relationship with that ship is their relationship with each other ie. IT'S ROTTEN WORK / NOT TO ME NOT IF IT'S THEM 😭

also obvs perpetually manifesting the great izumotatara takeover of 2kforever!!! lbr though i'd be delighted about new k content tailored to any of my biases in the year 2k24 (hint hint to anyone reading!)

23. ship you’ve unwillingly come around to

i wouldn't say 'unwillingly' (lol i feel like i'm answering all these questions Wrong) but once i had sufficient time and space, i do think i have much more appreciation for mktts and s*rumi dynamics and their emotional weight without the background noise of all no good very bad fandom takes in the fandom's heyday!

#*ing things so they dont show up in tags 💀 #sigh the meme required me to choose violence so here we are!!! #replies #memetime #project k problems #now thats a throwback tag!

[kalcifers-blog]

AND I AM BACK AGAIN, YOU ASKED FOR MORE ASKS IN YOUR INBOX, SO I SHALL DELIVER! ... The worst asks, but y'know it's not much but it's honest work THAT SAID, I'VE BEEN PRETTY MUCH DEAD FOR A LONG TIME, BUT NOW I'M BACK AND SOMEWHAT READY TO BE AN ANNOYANCE TO YOUR DAY! /hj Okay okay skimming past all that, I was thinking about ego aus and stuff like that because I am working on a few, so I thought I'd ask you I know you do have aus, but did you ever scrap some ego (or even TMA) au ideas and if so, what were they before they were trashed? If you didn't have any scrapped aus or just wanna include this, what were some ego au (or headcanon) ideas that you never made/got to make? Or if you just want to, you can say smthing about your current aus too! I'm aLL EARS ABT WHAT YOU GOT TO SAY AND MEANWHILE I'LL BE MUNCHING ON YOUR ART WITH HOW ABSOLUTELY DELICIOUS AND GORGEOUS IT IS I KNOW THIS IS COMPLETELY UNRELATED BUT I JUST HAD TO MENTION IT HJHHGJHjSK ^^ BUT ANYWAY, WITH THAT, I AM BLASTING OFF AGAIN! 🏃💥 - 🪐 (fun fact: I had to scroll so far back that it made my finger hurt because I forgot what sign off I used, I blame this on my dumbahhsery 😭)

I have had a few AUs before I've had to scrap only because I've not had the time to do them because of Uni. The one that pops in my mind is that I had plans/ideas to make a Fantasy AU for the Egos mostly because I really wanted an excuse to draw Chase as a Teifling and I kinda just threw the rest of the Egos in there but never actually thought about them

Also theres the obligatory TMA x JSE Ego Crossover AU which I personally don't consider scraped? It's more dormant personally, I'll probably continue working on it loosely over time whenever I remember it's a thing I've made. With that one tho it was almost always a way for me to explore horror with the Egos that was heavily inspired by TMA. But also I do like the idea of in the future making a more direct crossover fic or something.

I've currently been shouting ideas for a potential Vampire AU with a mutual (YOU KNOW WHO YOU ARE /AFF) which I may or may not talk more about in the future, it depends how insane I'll get due to my current workload in uni, and also if it's something that people are actually interested in!!!!!

For now tho I'm probably just going to focus on drawing for Septicart Party and doing uni work so unfortunately I won't be working on AUs for a bit </333

AND THANK YOU SM BTW I GENUINELY REALLY APPRECIATE IT RAAHHH‼️‼️‼️‼️💥💥💥

#kalcifers blog #kal yaps #answered

[magmahearts]

TIMING: just after aria's vancation PARTIES: @ariadnewhitlock & @magmahearts LOCATION: the magmacave SUMMARY: in the aftermath of ariadne's experience with rhett, she and cass share a moment. CONTENT WARNINGS: mentions of kidnapping

The cave was quiet, and Cass thought that that was probably a good thing. After everything Ariadne had been through recently, something quiet would probably be nice. A good change of pace, a nice way to unwind. Whoever the man who’d hurt her was — the man Cass had only the vaguest description of, the man who made the fire in her chest burn to the point of eruption in a way she usually tried so hard to avoid — he wouldn’t be able to get to Ariadne here. Not in Cass’s domain, not with her as a protector. Superheroes were good like that.

They lay in the floor of the cave, the rocks comfortable and familiar beneath the oread’s back. She glanced over to Ariadne, shifting a little. “Do you need a pillow or something? I have one somewhere, I think.” To Cass, the stony floor of the cave might as well have been a fancy hotel mattress. But not everyone was built of stone. She knew that. “Or we could get up and walk around, if you wanted. There’s a stream further down, if we go deep enough. I don’t think I’ve gotten the chance to show you yet.” Van had liked it, when she’d visited. Maybe it would help, make Aria feel better.

—

The cave was dark and quiet and beautiful. The best part of all of this was the fact that Cass was here. Cass was here and this cave was so important to her and so it was important to Ariadne, too. She appreciated the calm that it provided — though she also had a heck of a strong feeling that the calm all came from her best friend.

“I'm okay! I kinda like how the rocks feel. Makes me feel ... well, alive seems weird to say, but it makes me feel real and just actually here, which is what I think I really need right now.” She looked over at Cass, “if you want, I'd love to see more of the place you love so much — but I am also very content just lying here with you. 'Cause you're my favorite best friend and this is already doing wonders for me.” Ariadne wondered for a moment if that was too much, too anything not positive, but she pushed that particular thought away, because Cass was her best friend, and they both loved each other, and didn't get mad at each other ever. At least not over stuff like this. “I'd love to see more of your cave though, yeah. A water stream sounds magical.”

—

Her chest was fluttering, the warmth in her stomach turning to something less angry and more pleasant as Ariadne replied that she liked how the rocks felt. Aria was good at that, good at making Cass feel less like a volcano and more like a person. It was why they were best friends, really — they helped each other, the way best friends were supposed to. Cass had never really had that before, and she suspected Aria hadn’t, either.

It did, of course, make it a little harder when things happened. Cass didn’t know how to help Aria with this, didn’t know how to relate in a way that amounted to anything. She wanted to make it as though the bad things had never happened at all, but that was impossible. You couldn’t erase the terrible parts of someone’s life, no matter how much you loved them. It was kind of the worst. 

But she could lay on the rocks with her, and Aria said that helped. Cass tried to let herself believe it. “I can show you,” she said, because she wasn’t sure she liked sitting still when her stomach was twisting and her palms felt sweaty. Standing, she held a hand out to Aria with a small smile. “I think you’ll really like it. The stream. We can put our feet in it.”

—

She’d thought about Cass a lot when she’d been all locked up. It had been one of the only ways, along with thoughts of Wynne, that Ariadne hadn’t completely given up. Cass hadn’t forgotten about her while she’d been gone, and she still wanted to be best friends, and Ariadne couldn’t have been more grateful for that.

Ariadne ran her fingers along the rock floor. “It doesn’t – uh – hurt them, if I do that, right? I don’t want to hurt the rocks. Or make them feel bad, or anything like that.” Was that saying too much? Being too much? She hoped not. She didn’t want to disappoint Cass.

“I’d love to see that, then.” She took Cass’s hand, her friend’s warmth immediately comforting. “That sounds nice. Really good. Is it fresh water? I’d love to put my feet in it, that sounds good.” Ariadne supposed that she could lie down in it, too, on account of the whole not having to breathe thing, but she wasn’t about to suggest that to Cass right now. “Lead the way.”

—

Cass smiled softly at Ariadne’s question, shaking her head. “Rocks are hard to hurt.” But no one ever asked that. No one ever worried about hurting stone, about damaging it. To most people, the rocky floor of the cave they sat in was something to be taken for granted. A solid foundation was important, but no one ever thought about it after it had been laid down. People walked all over it, kicked it, mined it for stone that, to them, was ‘better’ than what was on the surface level. No one ever cared how it might make the rocks feel.

No one but Ariadne.

It was another reason why what had happened to her seemed so unfair. How could someone want to hurt her? How could someone look at this girl, at Cass’s best friend, who cared about hurting a rock’s feelings and worried about the floor on which she sat, and think that she was something to be harmed? Cass wanted to tear the world apart for her.

“It’s fresh water,” she confirmed with a nod. “No salt. You should be able to put your feet in if you want to. It isn’t very deep, though. It doesn’t even come up to my knees.” But she bathed in it sometimes anyway, when she had nowhere else to go and didn’t want to bother any of her friends with showers she could use. She squeezed Aria’s hand gently, offering her another smile. “Come on.” She gently tugged her friend along, towards the stream.

—

“Okay, but hard doesn’t mean impossible and I don’t want to even semi-sort-of hurt them.” Ariadne brushed her hand against the rocks again, before pressing her lips to her fingers and her fingers back to the rocks. “I want them to know I love them, and I love that my best friend is so connected with them.” Talking about Cass and focusing on Cass and the rocks and how comforting the cave felt made things a little bit easier. Hardly easy, but Ariadne knew she couldn’t hope for that. Not now, but things were easier with Cass, and that was something she’d happily grab ahold of.

“I’d love to put my feet in, and it’s fine if it’s not deep, it’s still going to be beautiful.” There was a lot about the world that made Ariadne feel incredibly uncertain, but this was not one of them. The world was still beautiful, and especially the world when it involved things her friends treasured.

Standing up more fully, Ariadne eagerly let her friend pull her along, until they’d arrived at the stream. “Wow, it’s so pretty – Cass, it’s – if it’s okay to say, it feels like you live in the most beautiful and magic of lands.”

—

I love you, Cass thought. And then, because some things needed to be said aloud, “I love you.” The way Aria cared about the rocks — was it because Cass cared, or because she cared about everything this much? Either way, it made the oread feel warm. “I think they know. Rocks are pretty good listeners.” As a kid, most of her ‘friends’ had been made of stone. Some people might have thought it sad, but there was nothing sad about it. Not to Cass, anyway. Rocks were solid and reliable as a rule. People were anything but.

“It’ll feel nice,” she agreed, still smiling. It was hard not to with Ariadne. She’d never imagined she’d have this someday — a best friend who cared for her, who was there for her, who supported her and shared her interests. It had sounded too good to be true for so long that it was flooring to find it so effortlessly true now.

She led Ariadne down to the stream, walking close beside her as if she was still a little afraid she might disappear. The close call with the hunter had been too close a call, really. The idea of a repeat performance was terrifying. But it wasn’t something they needed to dwell on now. Now, all they needed was the two of them and the stream. Cass put her feet into the stream, tugging Aria down to do the same. She smiled at her friend’s words. “It’s okay to say. I think so, too. I love it here. I wish you could have seen the volcano back on Hawai’i, though.” But Aria wouldn’t have been able to visit her there, wouldn’t have been able to come inside like she could here. Maybe that made the cave better, in a sense.

—

“I love you.” It was so easy to say to Cass. Everything was easier with her around, though – so much so that sometimes Ariadne forgot what it was like to feel alone. Which, of all the things to forget, certainly wasn’t a bad sort of thing. “I bet they are, they’ve been around forever, and they’re so important to us and to the world and to everything, I bet they’re the best listeners around.”

She would’ve preferred to have met Cass before she died, or without dying at all, really, but the idea that the two of them could set a world record for length of best friendship was, in the end, a very appealing sort of thing. Even though Ariadne knew that such a record could never be actually reported, she’d be happy to have it kept between the two of them, because that was what mattered most, and that was the coolest sort of thing to be able to share with a friend – to have secrets only the two of you knew about.

“It will.” She affirmed. 

“I wish I could’ve seen it, too, but this is your home now, and so that’s all that matters to me. Besides, you can tell me about Hawai’i all you want, and I’ll just imagine like I’m there.” Ariadne chewed absently at her nails, “and we can pretend like we’re there, if you want – whatever you want, okay? So long as we’re together.”

—

Even now, there was something undeniably freeing about hearing those three words. She had plenty of people who said it to her these days, but it still sent a thrill through her every time she heard it. For years, those words had been an unheard of thing. Something she whispered to herself in the dark, something so foreign it might as well have been another language. She didn’t know when she’d become fluent in it. Probably somewhere around the time she’d invited a girl her age to go see a movie with her, or held hands with a pretty redhead in a cave, or experienced a harrowing event in a grocery store and walked out with three new friends. 

She smiled as Aria continued, nodding adamantly. “They’re the best,” she agreed. “Always there, always solid.” A good foundation for a reason. She’d never had much to build upon in the metaphorical sense. No family that cared about her, no friends that wanted her safe and happy. But she’d always had the Earth beneath her feet, the stones that fit perfectly in her palm when she’d had no hand to hold. She had people now, of course — Ariadne’s presence in the cave was proof enough of that — but the rocks hadn’t gone anywhere. They never would.

Humming, she led the way towards the stream. “I miss it,” she admitted, and she might not have made the confession to anyone else. It felt wrong to miss a place that had cast her out now that she’d found somewhere that never would. But she missed the heat of the open volcano, the strength that came along with it. “But I like it here. With you, and Alex, and Milo, and Nora, and Wynne, and everyone.” The people were more important than the place; she knew that.

—

“You can always rely on them too, right?” Ariadne loved how much Cass loved rocks, how there was an (obvious, she supposed) connection between her best friend and the rocks, but just seeing how much she loved them was incredibly endearing. It made her love Cass all the more, if such a thing were even possible (and she liked to think it was, given the negative impossibilities that had become realities, good possibly impossible things also had to have the ability to become reality. They just had to).

“It makes sense that you miss it.” She let her hand gently fall on her friend’s shoulder. “I would’ve loved to visit, but I love your home here, too, and you’re here, and that’s the only real thing that I’d wanna see, though I mean, of course I want to see where you’re from but…” Ariadne let her voice trail off, briefly. “You’re the reason I’d want to see any of that anyhow, so so long as you’re here, that’s all I really care about.”

With most people, Ariadne might’ve worried about how frequently she was insisting that she loved them, but thankfully, she never had to worry about that with Cass. It was unfortunate because she never wanted her friend to feel any doubt about the love that she deserved, but it also worked well because of the fact that she and Cass could go in circles forever about how much they cared about each other, and what better thing was there to do that about than love? “I like it here with you, and Wynne, and Alex, and Nora, and everybody. It’s just nice. To have friends. To have the bestest best friend in the world.” She took a deep breath. “It makes me think that maybe, everything’ll be at least mostly okay.”

—

“Right,” Cass confirmed. Even when she’d had no one, she’d had the stones of the Earth, always there beneath her feet. They’d been her first friends, in a way, the first thing that had ever loved her back. The fact that she got to share them now — with Aria, with Alex, with all her friends — it was a beautiful thing. She didn’t think she’d ever felt anything better, anything more exciting. 

And it was people like Aria who made the sting of being so far away from the volcano she’d been a part of for so long easier to bear. She still missed Hawai’i, but it didn’t feel like home anymore. That title belonged here now, in Wicked’s Rest. With Ariadne, in this cave. “I’m glad I’m here, too,” she admitted. “I’m glad I got to meet you. I’m happy here. I really, really am.” For the first time, she felt as if she belonged somewhere. It was hard to top something like that.

It was hard to top this, too. This idea that she made someone’s life better, that her presence was enough to make Ariadne feel as if everything could still be okay in spite of what she’d been through, in spite of the terrible people who did terrible things like locking someone in the back of a van just because they were different. “I’m glad I can help you feel that way. You help me feel that way, too. I’ll always try to make you feel okay.” It wasn’t a promise — those were dangerous to make, Cass knew — but it was the closest thing to one.

#ariadnewhitlock #ariadne: my silver lining #wickedswriting

[autistic-britta-perry]

here for another 'let's connect qsmp to other show I've watched that nobody's going to know what I'm talking about' This might not be even accurate anymore idk i've not watched recently. SO. COBRA KAI!

team bolas dynamic of going from the people who were in the worst position and got killed to now being a very strong team that bonded through a cult-like loyalty and friendship. They're ALL bolas and if ANY of them is hurt they're ALL hurt. And then them feeling like they deserve to be in power and like anything they do is 'fighting back' and blue team's trying to make them look like the 'bad guys' when blue team's the one who started it, and they just embrace it and go okay I'll be your villain. All of that. is just like the cobra kai team from cobra kai tv show

Blue team's comparison doesn't work as well but it is a bit like the miyagi dojo in cobra kai too because they also think they're the good guys and red is not and are a bit hypocritical about what they're allowed to do vs red (which is a problem for red team too). And they're bonded but in a more chill way, and even though they're also having a miserable time because they didn't start out from absolute disaster their loyalty is a different one, it's more of a 'team' than an identity, their 'work' and 'personal' dynamics are more separate. And the relationships are more one-on-ones than like, an everyone always talking to each other thing. And they feel like red's attacking them and not playing by the rules.

I haven't watched the last few days I know some blue joined with red recently so idk how that changed dynamics if any and sorry team green but I don't think team green fits any of those really, they're the competent team that none of the teams have any real beef with lol.

For the comparisons, Daniel in cobra kai tv show teaches his miyagi dojo the way he's "meant" to and when he does do some underhanded things he justifies it as "well, cobra kai's evil, they had it coming". Johnny in cobra kai teaches them in a very probably bad way in theory way but that makes them all into fire-forged friends, and when THEY do bad shit it's like, well it's fine, you deserve to, you were getting beaten up before I trained you. One of the things I love the most about cobra kai is that cobra kai in the show it's all bullied kids and some of them have an arc of somewhat becoming bullies after fighting back because they enjoy the power and can't see themselves as the bullies because of their past. They get better, but tbh that is the way I'd see red team corruption going. (Clarification that they don't get bullied By Miyagi Do) And Miyagi Do only knows of them AFTER they've become powerful, didn't know them before, so they assume things of them and see them as the bad guys. But their past (which in qsmp purgatory is just that one first day for red team) is SO important for Cobra Kai and affects their own self perception so much. Anyway a lot of the show is just both teams and their leaders going at it and not communicating or realizing they're more alike than they think because they both think they're 100 % right and take any attack from the other as proof of that.

Anyway here's a montage of cobra kai's blue team and red team training for comparison.

Also Miyagi's style is a bit "boring but very good technique that works and that can be underestimated" whereas Cobra Kai's style is more chaotic and offense focused. This part probably doesn't work as much considering Bbh did a lot of offense as well but I thought the nerd tryhard team might appreciate that comparison lol.

Also here's one of my favorite cobra kai vids while I'm at it with these vibes i'm talking about and might be good motivation song for today idk man. Everyone's the hero! Everyone's the villain! And they get knocked down but they get up again! as they say (Spoilers! And comment if you like the vid)

#qsmp red team #qsmp blue team #just vibes #cobra kai was a great show at doing that thing of 'two enemies and they both think of themselves as the complete hero of the story' #unfortunately they veered too hard into pro johnny framing the later seasons while also going too into 'miyagi-do is the only right way' to #but the first seasons are really good #cobra kai also has ppl on opposite sides at various points that should kiss. what if we were karate rivals.... and we were both girls... #you know there's a part on cobra kai where they corner the miyagi do's for revenge where one part of a pair of besties terrorizes the other #and the other's like i know this isn't you and keeps calling him by his 'real' name instead of the one he's going with now and the first #dude is like NO THIS IS ME and hurts him... inch resting #feel free to ignore this . it's a lot of text lol

[dwn055]

im rewatching saint seiya and i am in a phase rn so bear with me cuz im thinking about this again so much, I got lots of thoughts im just gonna talk about

Other than just rewatching the original 80s one(plus like the rest if it cuz my siblings never got to watch all of it with me), i decided i'd give a chance to the knights of the zodiac netflix cartoon too and i was super surprised I really liked the second season alot more than i thought especially cuz I wasn't really the biggest fan of the first season

Honestly, the show isn't like the worst thing ever but like it had a very bad rocky start with all of the changes (Shaun💀, the military guy, i guess i can't really say anything too bad about it but the somewhat lackluster animation and how little impact of visuals we had as compared to the original ver,(like rly still thinking of the injustice of shiryu changing the direction of the waterfall only going up like an inch and its treated like he learned the move, its rly fucking funny how it was tho) plus the seriously fast pacing to cramp everything in there before the sanctuary arc but I'm actually glad I enjoying this show now cuz there's not alot of new material or spinoffs made from this franchise that is actually enjoyable unfortunately and i really did wanna give this show a chance when it first came out but we finally got to where its good!!!!! and like i actually appreciate alot of the changes they added or expanded in the 2nd season so the characters wouldn't seem so stupid or whatever. plus now the writing is evenly paced where it doesn't feel like things just immediately happen then move on before we get to fully take it in

Anyway im gonna try to see if I can make points of what i wanna say of what i like here so lol

There's a better explanation now for why Sienna is like some cursed Athena

More June or Genet(?) role into the story

The other good guys who are not the bronze saints are not sitting around twiddling their thumbs and their story is mixed into Marin's offscreen journey to StarHill

Their version explanation why the Sanctuary is duped for so long by Saga

Evil fucked up Athena prophecy

Ok, like first of all I know its supposed to be a build up for the Sanctuary arc but honestly I really didn't understand why they went with this plot, personally I'm still not a big fan of it but I think that they way they used it for the story of them already knowing Sienna is already a goddess rather than them thinking she's a fake like the original because it takes out the plot point of why hasn't anyone seen Athena around for like 13 years and how they let that shit slide so I can see why they changed that subplot. Plus honestly, I feel like the the reveal will probably be that Saga was lying that she was going to bring chaos to the world anyway just so he could take over, though idk im just guessing it's probably what it is but ig they could still make the prophecy happen and its just like "changed fate" or whatever

Genet (ok im just gonna refer to her original name June cuz i don't know how they spelled it)

I'm super happy they made June sort of secondary main character and expanded her relationships with Daedulus and Shaun cuz she deserved so much better and they really delivered. Like i thought it was sweet they had more of a father-daughter relationship in this one and it was really sad to see the scene when she discovers he's died(or dying from this ver)

I also thought it was kinda clever they made Daedulus be Shion's student along with Mu/be like the inventor(cuz of his name haha) since he didn't do jackshit in the original other than basically die, plus we get to see early Aphrodite appearance, and it was super cool. I really enjoyed seeing their ver and of the fight instead of the handwave in the original 80s anime, that already had to unintentionally butcher the story to make it Milo who killed everyone on Andromeda Island then last second say "oh yea Aphrodite was there too cuz he spit the rose at Shun's teacher that weakened him"(which Milo got away scotfree for, like he wasn't the one who killed everyone on the island but Aphrodite is the bad guy cuz he helped kill the important character)

But anyways it was nice seeing June just get focus in general and get to fight and actually be cool, when in the original she was just Shun's love interest cuz she's girl. also her sibling relationship with Kiki was super cute, I liked them qwq I'm excited with whatever they give her in the future honestly

Starhill subplot

June's part sort of a build up to this part but I did like that they had the other "good guys" travel with Marin and June to Star Hill instead of just sitting around playing jacks and cards while they wait for the next 12 hours. Honestly it didn't bring much interactions(other than basically June and Kiki) or rly bring depth to anyone else other than Marin having a connection to Aiolos and him being the reason why she has a mask/forgot her memory, like the most they got for the gold saints is that they're basically in denial about betraying the pope or whatever

but I still thought it was great to see something else going on and its actually very sad that Mu found out Shion(or Sion, im assuming from how they pronounced it) died the hard way, which leads to this next one

The whole reason why the Sanctuary is on the Pope's side

Since they changed the reason why anyone would actually be on the Pope's side in this one being that they don't want the world to be destroyed so they begrudgingly decide they should kill Athena no matter the sacrifices, plus they highlight the Pope's good side much more rather than his bad side, Also the explanation for why Saga's blue hair and pronouns ass isn't found out, cuz his magic turns his hair the same color as Shion's when he puts on the helmet which like yeah

This one was actually a really good change in my opinion cuz it makes some of the characters who should probably be smarter about it, seem less stupid, cuz in the original story in general, Saga's actions as the pope is probably the most sus out there that basically its hard to see why anyone would still think he's actually a good person telling them the truth about anything. Then the 80s anime had to really take liberties and just hope the people watching would forget the crazy ass lore/explanations they said about the Pope and somehow just try to paste Saga into the picture to follow the original story of the manga, where the anime starts that the good pope died so his evil brother Pope Ares took over as the new pope where things began to just suck ass for the sake of it but then they had to fit Saga into the story where he had actually killed the original pope 13 years ago instead and its like which one? the first one or Ares? Or a completely different guy altogether? (who's the Shion fill-in)

So I think that the whole "It's a hard decision but we gotta do what we gotta do because the prophecy could fuck us up if we leave it to Athena" and its like yeah it's definitely more plausible and basically when Saga's evil side does something sus, he's (im assuming accidentally)immediately cancelled out by his good side crying or whatever about his actions that the others use that to basically guilttrip the person going against him to feel bad which makes more sense why they are stuck in this dumb loop rather than just seeing a blatantly evil guy be in control, (which is something ig i can't actually fault the original story anyway cuz there was no such thing as gray morality back then in the 80s, or ig if u count whatever "gray morality" manga!Shura had ig tho imo its dumb as hell but anyways thats a rant for another time)

But anyways this rant was mainly for Shaka cuz honestly, I think the original anime made him a lot more evil or as evil as they could make him and its like there's no way in hell how someone like Shaka doesn't even have a doubt about Saga, though ig he still doesn't know that he's an imposter in either version but the manga honestly has a somewhat (really take this with a grain of salt)better explanation onto why Shaka doesn't think Saga is evil as compared to the anime ver because he explains its the same reason he spared Ikki where deep down he's not really evil, but also like you are still enabling him being evil rn dude??🤨

Cuz like the scene where Saga does the Demon Emperors fist that mind controls Aioria right in front of him to kill a person, Shaka doesn't even bat an eye that he used a move called that while in the kotz Shaka at least questioned him a little about it but then immediately justifies it to himself when the pope gave him a handwave explanation and didn't tell him of what he's actually mind controlling Aioria to do (im pretty sure)

Anyways that was probably my whole rant about this but wow I have a change if heart about kotz now, im actually looking forward to the second half since they kinda abruptly stop at Milo's fight, They really just needed that slowburn to actually become a little bit better storywise

#just dropping my thoughts about something almost no one follows me for then dipping again #i probably got like a million things to say but ik no one's really gonna even understand it lmao #and i will save everyone the trouble

[superblysubparhuman]

So Far, So Goode: Chapter 13

This book contains MEGA Gallagher Girls and The Listen Series spoilers. You have been warned. Do not pass Go, do not collect $200 if you wish to avoid said spoilers.  

“Only visible at this new angle, small indents in the wood. Initials carved into the past to be found by someone in the future."

“So Far, So Goode” masterlist

Find it on Ao3 or Wattpad if you prefer

Warnings: See masterlist for overall warning in summary. 

A/N: I had to take a break from Gallagher Girls writing, but I'm very happy to be back. Thanks for your patience if you've been following along!

💜Any love, interaction or feedback is greatly appreciated and welcomed. 

Chapter Thirteen:

"I'm gonna puke!" 

"Don't care. Keep going."

"Aunt Char-"

"Professor Woods, Goode."

I was gasping for air, stomach churning, trying to keep up with her pace as we ran around the lake. I've seen many a look on my Aunt Charlotte's face over the years, but none like the one that had been on it since I stepped into the foyer that morning for detention.

Aunt Charlotte is the most “real” Aunt I have. While not any of them are technically blood related (okay, well my great grandma Abby is technically also an aunt?), mom and Aunt Char have a bond that's sisters by every definition of the word. And Aunt Charlotte was currently not the fun aunt who took me to my first concert, or the one who often swung by to take us out for ice cream on a school night while growing up. Oh no, she was Professor Woods. The woman I'd heard stories about. 

She was terrifying.

I truly thought I was about to cry as I gasped, "Really, Professor Woods, I'm going to barf."

She kept jogging, shaking her head, "Maybe you should. Sneaking out and drinking. I mean, my god, Joelene, if I ever find out you do this again, so help me-"

I finished the lap and collapsed into the wet sludge. The worst part of spring, not quite snowing anymore and not quite warm enough for green and soft grass. Brown, gray, and wet. Perfectly matching how my insides felt.

I shivered at the eyes boring into mine from above. Her and Elise looked eerily similar when they were both mad. And it wasn't just in that moment. Over the years, I watched as Elise adopted her mother's mannerisms, her style, her tendency to get along with the boys more than the girls, her fighting skills. I shouldn’t have been surprised, but I was suddenly curious when their voices had started to sound the same to me too. If I closed my eyes, it sounded like Elise was the one scolding me and not my Aunt, "You understand how stupid it was? How reckless? How dangerous? How-"

"You never snuck out?"

The way her mouth clamped shut at my accusation, a slight misstep on her part, was enough confirmation for me.

I rolled and groaned as I stood up, hands on my knees as I fought the urge to decorate my shoes with the bag of chips Lacey and I had devoured before bed, "Exactly. I know it was dumb. I won't drink again," I took a deep breath before standing up completely to face her, "But I'm getting really tired of you all treating us like we're the first ones to do this. I know grandma snuck out to date Mr. Abrams. I know Leia, Collins, and Bec snuck out for that midnight premiere the one time and probably many more times. I know Aunt Alice did so many crazy things, one time I saw her file and the words person and fire next to each other,” I sucked in a breath, pointing and punctuating my next sentence, “and don’t even get me started on my own mother, sneaking out with Uncle Matt and flying to Romania.”

Aunt Char didn't move or speak, she just stared at me. She'd always had this very uncanny way of reading my thoughts, and I waited for her to do just that but it never came, just her disappointed eyes driving what felt like a screwdriver straight to my heart.

I folded my arms to match hers, my voice breaking, a little of my confidence shattering under her stare, "I'm here. I'm gonna do the time for the crime. But I'm not the first Goode to fuck up, and I'm getting sick of feeling like I'm the only one, like I'm the big family screw up. I'm a kid. I'm allowed to make mistakes. I'm allowed to have bad days. I'm allowed to miss my dad, to scream at my mom, to fail a test, to kiss a boy!"

My fingers started to itch as I got myself worked up and I glanced at a tree wondering how hard it would hurt to punch it because no way I'd punch Aunt Char and live to tell the tale. When I couldn't control my emotions last night, I had the excuse of the alcohol. The crying seemed like a natural reaction to my drunken state. But today? All that anger, fear, and sadness I had before the party was back, rumbling under the surface of my skin and making me see red. I should have known Aunt Charlotte could see through it all. 

She nodded once, "Finished?"

I bit at my nail and looked at the ground, "I think so."

She nodded again and reached out for me, her hands on my cheeks, "If you let this kind of anger keep building under the surface, if you sneak out and drink and do god knows what else to push down whatever you're feeling, it's not going to end well Joelene," she took a deep breath before continuing, "You are not the first Goode to feel this way, you're not alone. Okay?"

I nodded and she let her hands fall and she gestured inside, "Now get your butt to O'Reiley's office."

I sighed and closed my eyes, "Yes ma'am."

Doctor O'Reiley was one of many members of the medical staff at the Gallagher Academy. I've always known him as my mom's therapist, my best friend's Grandpa, my Aunt Bex's boyfriend, and the sweet man who reads and drinks tea and knows every student's name, whether they’d been through his office or not. 

I just never thought I'd be one of the student's walking into that office. I knew from my parents that our mental health was their main priority. I saw the looks they shared when one of us did something out of the ordinary, or seemed off. I knew they had their own mental health that they dealt with. And I knew the speech by heart about telling them as soon as something felt wrong or not quite right with ourselves.

I knew that Collins had anxiety and OCD, and that none of us other kids had ever had a single thing that had prompted them to make us see Doctor O'Reiley.

That is, until now.

I pushed away my insecurities, my thoughts that I didn't need help, that nothing was wrong and I tapped on the open door with my knuckles. 

He glanced up from his desk, peering over his red rimmed glasses and I smiled thinking about how much Jack and Lacey looked like him.

"Miss Goode, right on time," I closed the door and sat down in the chair across from his desk.

A fire in his fireplace and a teapot steaming at the little kitchenette behind him.

I smiled, "Mr. O'Reiley, please don't call me Miss Goode, you've seen me with a mashed potato Mohawk and this is already weirder than it needs to be."

His smile warmed, pointing, "I remember that Christmas. Lacey had the braids, you had the Mohawk, Elise had the beard right?"

I nodded, "Mhm."

He nodded and turned to the tea pot, "So, what would you prefer I call you for these sessions then? Jo, Joey, or Joelene?" 

I shrugged, "Anything is fine Mr. O'Reiley."

He pushed a mug across the desk to me, "Okay, I’ll stick to Joey, if you call me Phineas."

I scrunched up my nose, but nodded, "I can try that."

I sipped the tea and glanced around the office I had never stepped foot in. Degrees on a wall. Family pictures, one that even I was in. Bookshelves overflowing. Blankets, mugs, pillows, and a couch in front of the fireplace.

I nodded towards it, "So how does this all work? Do I lay on that thing and you nod along to my ramblings and ask 'and how does that make you feel?' every once in a while?"

He smirked into his mug, "Well, you most definitely can lay on the couch if you want. And I don't typically ask that question in that exact way. But, basically we’ll just talk. Tell me what's on your mind."

I frowned down at the carpet, biting the inside of my lip. A loaded statement. What wasn't on my mind lately?

He spoke quietly, "Though, I suppose that could be too broad of a question. What if we start at the beginning. Why do you think your mom wants you to see me? How do you feel about coming to see me?"

I smirked, eyes fixed on the carpet, "Wouldn't that be a sort of roundabout way of asking 'And how does that make you feel'?"

I raised my thumb and bit at the skin around my nail and he stayed quiet and I huffed out a breath, closing my eyes and I let my head fall against the back of the chair.

"I don't know all the reasons she wants me to come see you Mr. O…Phin…Mr. O'Reiley. I suspect it has something to do with me failing some assignments, yelling at her, skipping class and sleeping for a whole day," I opened my eyes and stared at the ceiling, "And the cherry on top: sneaking out and drinking last night."

He made a soft hmm noise and I smirked.

“Was that a ‘hmm, I think you’re right Joey, hmm I think you’re wrong Joey, or a hmm how does all that make you feel Joey?”

He laughed, “You are so much like your-”

I sat up and pointed, “Don’t finish that sentence.”

He closed his mouth, lips pressed together in a thin smile as he watched me with knowing eyes. 

I waved a hand in his face, “Or look at me like that.”

He leaned forward, hands cradling his mug, “Look at you like what?”

I dropped my head back once more, trying to get comfortable, “Like you’re psychoanalyzing me.”

Doctor O’Reiley started laughing, quickly covering it up with a cough and clearing his throat. He nodded, “Right. Sorry.”

I stood, punching a fist into my open palm as I paced, “Why’d you laugh?”

“It involves the sentence you told me not to finish.”

I fell back onto the couch with a huff, eyes closing as I sighed, “Right.”

“You don’t like being compared to your mother?”

I scrunched deeper into the couch as I pondered his question.

“Joey?”

I spoke quietly, “I’m thinking.”

“Ah.”

Maybe it was the hangover, the run this morning. The events of the previous weeks, the ending of yesterday - my mother holding me as I cried last night, or my Aunt Charlotte’s words earlier. Or maybe it was the fire, the tea, the knowledge that I could finally get some things off of my chest and someone might finally, really listen. But I was tired of running, of not being heard, and so I opened my eyes.

Tears pricked at the corners as I whispered, “I don’t think I do.”

Doctor O’Reiley was silent and I took a deep breath, a weight slightly lifted off of me, “I love my mom, I do. My whole family. I’m incredibly lucky and I know that. But lately…”

I trailed off, lost in my own thoughts I didn’t dare speak out loud to anyone for days. Maybe a lot longer than the last couple of weeks if I’m being honest. Comforted by the warm fire as my sore muscles relaxed into the couch, I felt my walls crumbling down. Maybe Doctor O’Reiley made magical tea or something. 

“Lately?”

Eyelids heavy, body and brain so tired for numerous reasons, I’m not sure I truly got the words out before fading into the darkness that was pulling me down.

“Lately I want to be anything but a Goode.”

I was falling, a hole that didn’t have a bottom, I didn’t see a top either to confirm it, but that familiar feeling was there. That pit in your stomach, tightness in your chest, that breathless feeling of the air being taken out of you before the landing. 

“Hey, squirt, hey.”

My eyes blinked open. I was still in Doctor O’Reiley’s office, the fire burning low, my mug of tea on the table no longer steaming, and my Aunt/Grandma Abby curled up in a chair across from me. 

Her mug was steaming, her hair pulled into a half hearted knot at the nape of her neck, a sweater that I recognized as my Grandpa Joe’s engulfing her. She looked worse than my Grandma Rachel. Eyes watching me curiously as she blew on the mug, “Bad dream?”

“What time is it?” I cleared my throat, my voice scratchy and sore like I had been screaming instead of sleeping.

She shrugged, “I dunno. After dinner.”

I shot up, “What?”

She rolled her eyes and stared at the fire, “What, have somewhere to be? Hot date?”

I felt the heat rise in my cheeks and she smirked without looking at me, seeing it all despite not even facing me.

Sometimes I really hated that my whole family were all the most talented in the business. 

She spoke softly, “That’s right. I heard something about a new man in your life.”

I rubbed my temple and looked around the office and she spoke again, “He’s with your mom.”

I sat up even straighter and she finally looked at me, green eyes that weren’t quite mine, but mine, staring straight through my brain, “Relax. Not talking about you. It’s for her.”

I stood, “Did something happen? Is it my dad? Is he back? Is he okay?”

She stood and placed a shaking hand on my shoulder and it did nothing to ease my nerves as she pushed me back down, “No. Everything is fine. She’s just talking to him as her doctor, and they thought it was best to go somewhere else and let you sleep.”

She handed me the tea, “Here. I hate this stuff.”

I smirked thinking about how she married my Grandpa Ed, who loves tea.

She rummaged in a cabinet, “Yeah, I know, Europeans love their tea. I prefer something a little stronger.”

She found a bottle of Irish Whiskey and whistled. The mug paused on the way to my mouth as she took a swig out of the bottle and she held it out to me.

I shook my head and she flopped back into her chair, taking another swig, “Good. That was a test,” she motioned with her hand towards me, “I heard all about that too.”

I mumbled into my mug, “Of course you did. A Goode screws up and it’s probably broadcasted on a special number. Press one to hear how Joelene messed up this week."

She stood again and poured the whiskey into a new mug, “Kind of, yeah.”

I set the mug down on the coffee table perhaps a little too harshly, “Why?”

She took a sip and winced as she swallowed before asking, “Why, what?”

I ran a hand through my hair, well tried to. My curls were matted, tangled, and knotted beyond repair, “Why is it such a big deal if a Goode screws up? Why are you here? Why are you drinking whiskey? You don’t look good, Grandma.”

She moaned and closed her eyes, “Don’t call me that. Makes me feel old.”

I waited for her to respond to any of my questions and she sat up finally, setting her mug next to mine. She leaned her elbows on her knees, “My sister is sick,” I nodded and she watched me closely, “Right. She said you knew. Tell your siblings yet?”

I shook my head no and she ran her hands through her hair, “Good. She’s telling them tomorrow.”

I watched her silently, taking in how it looked like she was withering away in front of me, faster than my Grandma Rachel. And then I thought about how I would look if I found out any of my siblings were dying. It was quiet for a long time and she grabbed her mug again and I asked quietly, “How are you doing?”

She laughed, wiping at her eyes before anything could fall, “Oh, I’m just peachy.”

I patted the couch next to me and she smiled, coming over and hugged me and I whispered, “I don’t think it’s fair. Id’ take her place in a heartbeat if I could.”

Abby sat up and touched my cheek, eyes soft, but voice stern, “Absolutely not. You don’t think that. You’re needed right here. She’s had a beautiful, long and extraordinary life. You have things to do. Places to see. A whole person to become,” she smiled, “That is if you cut the crap and focus.”

I leaned into her side, her arm wrapping around me, “I am focused. I’m seventeen,” I played with the loose threads on the couch as I mumbled, “I’m allowed to sneak out and kiss boys.”

Abby shrugged, “Maybe normal seventeen year olds get to do that. Not you, squirt.”

I shook my head, “Yeah, well, who decided what my life gets to be without me even getting a say?”

She squeezed my shoulder, “You did. When you decided to come to school here.”

I shook my head, “I was twelve. Of course I wanted to be like my parents and be a spy.”

I stood up and started pacing and felt her eyes following me as she spoke, “You don’t want to anymore?”

I shrugged.

She mmm’d.

The door opened and I looked over to see my mom leaning against the doorframe, smiling but not reaching her eyes. She looked tired. She looked sad. She looked defeated.

“Is dad-”

She shook her head, “Honey, I’ll tell you anything I know when I know it. I promise.”

I crossed my arms, “Will you? Or will you tell me it’s classified and I’m not allowed to know because I’m too young and I won’t understand?”

Aunt Abby laughed and downed the rest of her mug, patting my shoulder and pushing me towards the door, “I love you both, but get out, my turn to talk about my feelings.”

I turned and hugged her tightly, her body stiffening at first, but relaxing under the embrace. Her hands in my hair as she kissed the top of my head, “Sneak out and drink again and even I can’t stop the second half of your namesake from coming and dealing with you herself.”

I smiled, “Aunt Macey would never yell at me.”

Abby and my mom laughed. Abby shook her head, "Your Aunt Mace yelling is nothing. It's when she's not that you should be very afraid."

Doctor O’Reiley stopped me, “I’ll see you next Saturday Joey, lots to catch up on. But come anytime before that if you want or need to.”

I smiled and nodded once, leaving the room. My mom was on my heels and she cleared her throat, “You hungry?”

I turned to face her. I wasn’t as mad as I had been, but I had this anger clinging to me still, despite my drunken apologies and tears last night. And I think she knew that, that we weren’t back to one hundred percent yet, despite both of us wanting to be.

I shrugged, “A little. But I-”

“Joey! There you are!” I looked down the hall to see Elise walking towards us, textbooks in hand and she smiled at my mom, “Hi Aunt Mag-I mean good evening Professor Goode.”

My mom smirked, “Hi Elise,” she ran her hand over the top of my head and kissed it, “I’ll catch up with you later then.”

I watched her go, walking towards my grandma’s office and I felt a pang of guilt in my stomach as I watched her walk off alone. She missed my dad. She missed us. But then a little of that anger reared its ugly head again, reminding me of all the days we were the ones missing her. How often my dad must have been wrought with the same worry with the roles reversed. I hated that a part of myself thought she deserved to feel sad and lonely for a bit, that she deserved to sit with that worry and fear. 

Elise shoved the textbooks into my arms, “We are so behind on this project.”

I must have been really behind, because I didn’t even know or remember what project she was talking about. And so, I followed Elise down the sublevels, between the rows of books and artifacts to a table with my siblings, including Collins and Leia, surrounded by open textbooks and popcorn bags.

Leia looked up and started a slow clap and Collins gave her a look that could give my parents a run for their money.

Leia stopped clapping but winked at me, “Hello little rule breaker.”

Peter crossed his arms as he looked at me, Lacey looked extremely guilty, Sammy and Andy kept their heads down. 

I set the books down with a sigh, “Who told you?”

I glared at Lacey but the boys shook their heads, Andy kept writing as Peter asked, “How you feeling?”

I crossed my arms, “Fine.”

Andy grunted, “Where were you? Getting your ass handed to you by mom I hope?”

I looked down, “Mandatory therapy actually, ass face.”

Andy’s pencil stopped, his face scrunched together but kept focused on the page in front of him, “About time fart breath.”

The rest of them looked up at me, with those pity eyes I was really starting to hate.

I sighed, “Well, this was fun. See ya around.”

I turned to walk away and Collins grabbed my arm, “Oh no you don’t,” she gestured between me and Andy, then to the rest of them, “Whatever is going on, settle it right here, right now. We’re your family Joelene. Stop running away from us.”

I looked around at them and I sighed, “Listen. I don’t know what’s going on with myself either. Hence the therapy. I snuck out last night and went to a high school party, I drank beer and tequila, I kissed a boy, and I got detention for a month. I don’t really feel all that bad about any of it to be honest. Anything else you need to know?”

I had my hands on my hips and Leia was desperately trying to fight her smile as Collins shook her head, sighing. 

Peter glanced at Andy who was still gripping his pencil too tightly and then at me, “What’s really going on between you two though?”

Lacey, Elise, and Sammy all looked at me and then away and Peter threw his hands up, “So you told the girls but not me?”

Andy went back to writing and I shook my head, “Andy, just fucking say what you want to say. You’re going to end up telling them anyway. You already told Elise who told them, so, go ahead.”

Andy threw his pencil down, green eyes glaring at me. The flame and spark in him that rarely came out burning so brightly I’m surprised everyone’s clothes didn’t catch on fire as he yelled, “You can’t just do what you did and say what you said and expect me not to talk to someone about it Jo! You aren’t acting like yourself and-”

“Oh my god Andy, if you’re expecting some sort of apology or-”

“You were so far gone in the P&E barn you thought I was dad and you said you didn’t want to be here anymore and-”

“Hence the fucking therapy Anderson!”

“Oh! Don’t you Anderson me Joelene!”

“Enough!” 

At first I thought it was Peter, but when they all clamped their mouths closed looking over my shoulder I turned to see my Uncle Matt standing there with his arms crossed.

He nodded his head backwards, eyeing me, “Joelene, come with me.”

I sighed and glared at Andy, “Good talk.”

He frowned, “Jo-”

“Save it,” I walked away from all of them, following my uncle quietly back up through the subs until we were surrounded by all the classified artifacts of my school’s history. 

He sat on the edge of a table, his hands in his pockets as his eyes bounced around my face, eyes identical to Andy’s and I hated that everyone in my family shared everything. We weren’t even our own people, carbon copies of the ones before us, never making our own name for ourselves. 

He sighed and rubbed his temple, “Jo, you’re behind on your report.”

I was surprised he was talking to me about schoolwork and not the fight he just interrupted or scolding me for sneaking out or drinking. 

I scuffed my shoe against the ground, “Report?”

His eyes looked at me with that stupid pity again, “Professor Cameron’s report?”

Shit. I really had been letting myself fall behind on everything.

I nodded, “Right, I knew that, I…I’ll catch up tonight and-”

He placed his hands on my shoulders, “Hey, relax. You’re fine. But, we can’t bend the rules for you for this kind of stuff if it continues okay? Slacking on schoolwork isn’t like you, kid.”

I closed my eyes and pulled away from him, wrapping my arms around myself, feeling the remaining anger from fighting with Andy still boiling beneath the surface. I couldn’t help the bite in my tone, “No, I know I'll-”

"I miss him too."

"Where is he Uncle Matt? I know you know," I blinked back my tears as I watched him shake his head.

"He's fine, and-"

"Weren't you his partner? Why is he out there alone? Isn't that the number one rule you all tell us? You never go anywhere without-"

"He has backup," he sat on the table again and crossed his arms and I matched his position while standing, faking confidence as tears streamed down my face.

"Who's The Gathering?"

My family are good at what they do. Trained by the best, legendary and powerful in this business. They lie easily and guiltlessly for a living. Their tells almost imperceptible to even each other. But something about the air around my uncle felt so wrong even I was able to tell. I knew he was about to feed me a lie, about to tell me the word classified and I shook my head and walked away from him before he even got the chance. 

I turned to look over my shoulder at him, holding back a sob, "You know the main reason I miss him? Because he doesn't fucking lie."

I ignored his calls for me to wait and slipped into the sublevel elevator, ducking almost immediately into the first passageway I could find when I exited, the tears streaming down my face, choking on the sobs I was trying to hold back.

My family hated me. I was a disappointment. A failure. A screw up. A Goode who didn't know how to Goode anymore. Blindly making my way through cobwebs and dusty corridors, following the branches until I somehow ended up in the one I had found only the night before. 

A familiar voice falling out of the crack in the bookshelf. I wiped my eyes and sank to the floor, listening to my mother through the wall.

Report of Overheard Intelligence: 

Transcribed by Joelene Goode hereafter referred to as Operative Goode.

Mom: Hey, do you remember when you asked me if you were any good at the whole dad thing?

Operative Goode hears her Grandpa Zach’s voice, cracking a little as he replies.

Grandpa:Yeah.

Operative Goode hears her mother crying. Her own tears start to dry on her cheeks because she believes somewhere her father’s heart would be breaking if he knew they were both crying at the same time.

Mom: Am I any good at this whole mom thing?

Grandpa: Mags, of course you are. Just because your kids are going through some things doesn’t mean-

Mom: (a quiet laugh can be heard before her reply) One of my daughter’s has PTSD and another is sneaking out and drinking at the age of seventeen and that’s not even the tip of it all with her and she doesn’t want to talk to anyone. At this rate, I’m expecting every single one of them to have a panic attack at the same time. I think I failed them so terribly, there’s no way I can come back from this. And it’s all my fault. Luke never would have let it get this bad, dad.

Operative Goode’s heart thrums in her chest, crashing loudly in her ears making it hard to focus on anything but the pain in her chest. Who had PTSD? Leia probably. Something with the Air Force. Panic attacks? What did her mother mean?

After a long pause, Operative Goode’s grandfather responded softly.

Grandpa: Mags, Luke is an incredible dad, honestly, I’ve never met someone who’s so…dad. It’s like he was made for it.

Operative Goode feels the threat of tears about to spill over on the edge of her lashes as her mother laughed around her own tears. 

Grandpa: Seriously, he makes me doubt myself all the time, but even he would be struggling to handle all of this happening at once, as if from out of nowhere.

Operative Goode swears she can hear her mother shaking her head no. 

Mom: It can’t be from out of nowhere, dad. It was all happening, under our noses, and we failed them. I failed them. And I don’t think Luke would have.

*End transcription*

I wanted to step in that room and tell her she was right, that she did fail us, fail me. I wanted to ask why she didn’t see it sooner, why she didn’t come home and stay home sooner. I wanted to ask about who had PTSD, I wanted to ask about panic attacks. I even wanted to walk in and tell her I forgave her, that I didn’t understand, but I would if she would just sit down and talk to me about it all. 

But I didn’t do any of that. Instead, I turned back around in the passageway, pushing deeper through the darkness, remembering my dream about falling. This time I welcomed the feeling of it, letting myself fall down that hole, sobbing as I kept pushing deeper and further into my sadness and the school.

The light started to change and I knew I had somehow traveled under the school, to the outskirts of the grounds. I was on the opposite end of the lake and I held my breath as I saw a ladder at the end of the tunnel. I climbed and pushed a rusting and falling apart grate up and peeked over the ridge of the opening that was spilling moonlight through it. 

It looked like a place frozen in time, a greenhouse I had never seen before. We had one down in the labs, and this must have been one that had long ago been put to rest. Decaying plants, soil bags with faded logos, a hose letting out a quiet drip into a grate. I pulled myself up, and looked around, seeing a small window seat. I curled up into it, a perfect view of the mansion from the spot. It’s lighted stained glass windows sparkling in the moonlight. 

The greenhouse felt heavy. With history? Importance? Something about sitting on that spot, in a forgotten part of the school, it felt like I was sharing a moment with the past. Connected to older generations of Gallagher Girls before me. Had anyone else curled up in this spot and watched our school from afar, almost as a stranger? Had anyone else ran towards their loneliness instead of allowing those within the walls of the school to comfort and surround them? What happened to them?

I leaned my head against the window, and I squinted, reaching my fingers forward. Only visible at this new angle, small indents in the wood. Initials carved into the past to be found by someone in the future. 

I traced the letters and peered at the school from this angle. I whispered, almost afraid to disturb the past with my voice, “Who were you LGC?”

#so far so goode #gallagher girls #gallagher girls fanfiction #joelene goode #charlotte woods #phineas o'reiley #abigail cameron #morgan goode #matthew goode #anderson goode #peter goode #leia goode #collins goode #zach goode

[vaguegrant]

I want to talk about the best thing I've done for my mental health recently: Keeping a diary.

To clarify, this is different from "journaling" as an organized activity. I'm sure that's cool, but I haven't looked into it. No, I'm talking about keeping a regular-ass diary for the day. Events, thoughts, general state of things, and the like. It's extremely simple, and yet I've found it to be remarkably grounding. Also, it's fun as hell! And also it's weirdly poignant!

:readmore:

There's no special process involved; I just have a notebook sitting next to my bed, and before going to sleep I write about my day in it. A little summary of the day, how I feel about those events and why, what I'm worried about or excited about, and whatever else comes to mind. That's it! But for someone with both ADHD and anxiety (which stems from said ADHD), this has been super helpful.

See, my anxiety typically stems from the unknown. If I'm sick, and I don't know what it is, I assume it's the worst possible condition. Lots of disasterizing like that. Unfortunately, ADHD means a LOT of unknowns. Did my boss think I completely screwed up? Who knows, I wasn't fully paying attention, and I definitely won't remember tomorrow—so yes, probably! But keeping a diary has mitigated many of those issues. If I'm writing about my day, I have to provide a concrete, honest description of it. Not only does that ground me, it also reinforces my memories and gives me something to refer back to of needed. And likewise, when GOOD things happen, I can remember those better.

Writing in my diary is also a chance to meditate on and appreciate the events of the day. Those little mundane things that are personally meaningful—a kid's soccer game, a good meal with the family, a fun movie with my partner, etc.—those get written down and written about. Now when I say "meditate", I mean that in the loosest possible way. Nothing formal, just revisiting them and writing about my feelings about them. (Honestly, a lot of this is about my kids, and the feels that come with watching someone change into an actual full-grown person.) I don't need to talk about the difficulty of expressing genuine emotions publicly, especially as a middle-aged man in modern American society—gotta leave something for the rest of you to discuss—but this is the ultimate safe space. Being honest with myself and reminding myself that good things do in fact happen to me, even just in the privacy of a diary, has chipped away at my protective shell of cynicism and anger.

A few notes. First off: Yes, sometimes I absolutely sound like a stuck-up Edwardian gentleman in my head when I'm writing. It's great. This has an audience of one, at least until I'm dead or nearly so. So you'd better believe I'm writing my diary the way I'd want to read it. I can be my own little weirdo for a few minutes, and the world be damned.

I do mean "a few minutes," by the way. Each entry is a half-page on slow days, to a page-and-a-half on eventful or emotional days. That's it. No need for more—again, who am I trying to impress?

Second, I know beautiful leather-bound notebooks, dot journals, and rich thick paper are a thing. Frankly, I think they're beautiful objects. But here's my journal:

A cheapass composition notebook (I sprung for the plastic cover! So fancy!) and a Papermate #2 pencil. No 90g paper. No fountain pens. No trappings. And that's all you really need. That's not just me railing against the bourgeoisie, either—I always struggle with getting "the right tools" for a new project or activity, and that quickly becomes a distraction or a source of guilt when I eventually drop it. So, none of that. Pencil. Paper. Writing. I might ask for a nicer one for my birthday or for Christmas or something, but it's utterly unnecessary and I'll only do so if I'm sticking with it still.

Third, regular writing as opposed to typing has been like a remedial handwriting course. I'll never be a calligrapher, but I do find that improvement a little satisfying.

Finally: At some point, I'll be dead or in a nursing home or something. And for all that a diary is a very private thing, it is also a record of a life. Not an exceptional life, but one that I hope means something to a few key people. And so there's always a certain sense that ultimately, my diary is something my kids or a historian somewhere might find interesting. It doesn't stop me from writing honestly, and it's weirdly motivational. After all, this is for posterity!

So yeah. If any of this resonated with you, pick up a notebook. Keep a diary for two weeks. See if it sticks. I hope it'll be worth it for you.

#anxiety #mental health #mentalwellness #mental heath support #daily diary #diary #adhd #journal #journaling

[wuzetianadmirer]

Prince Albert Appreciation Post (and me being a SIMP)

Source: Marriage of Convenience

When I saw this motherfucker right here..I felt an emotion that sent the blood rushing to my face, that made my cold dead heart thaw and see the light....that's right...the magic word of the day.....infatuation!

I remember immensely enjoying the character design and personality of this murderous blondie. He made me want to do things so foul, my mother would have to bring out the Holy Water. On second thought, the Holy Water would just evaporate upon coming to contact with me.

Hear me out! I know he's the villain, I know he wants to force Bianca's hand. But I don't hate him for it. Usually when a character is forcing themselves on the main girl or guy, I would immediately hate them and wish the worst. But with him, I was actually sort of rooting for him.

Don't misunderstand of course, Bianca x Zachary is my OTP for real.

But Albert has that special sort of sense that makes me go feral. I can't be the only one right?

Like, look at this bitch. He's like not a good person, not even close. But do I care? Not really, to be honest. I could fix him...

And in the beginning I sort of just saw him as an obstacle for our main duo. A folly that I'd just forget about. But after learning about his tragic past, I couldn't help but feel drawn to him.

Like, Albert was born out a one-night-stand by the Emperor. I can't say I hate the Emperor too much, cuz he genuinely loves his children. Albert was told by his mother that he has to live with his 'family' cuz they will love him. But Albert is smart. Even if his half-siblings or father didn't treat him cruelly, he knows that he isn't wanted there. He' a reminder of a mistake on the Emperor's part. A stain.

Although I can't relate to abandonment issues cuz I have good parents, I know how it feels to be unwanted. I was a teenager too. And it hurts. To know that people are just tolerating your presence, and they don't truly want to have you around. It's like you're a guest at the party you were invited to by a distant cousin.

So Albert knew he was exactly going to be pampered there. And he knew what he was.

And that's what makes his own infatuation with Bianca more interesting. He relates to the feeling of abandonment he felt with his family, just as Bianca felt abandoned by her father when he sent her off to marry. I think he was trying to find a person to relate to in Bianca. He wanted someone who could understand and share his pain.

That doesn't excuse what he did, but we all live a Badboi every now and then, right?

Just look at this, just look at that beautiful face. The wind in his hair. The twinkle in his eyes. The faint blush on his cheeks🤚😩👌. He looks as if he's gonna kill an enemy king and present his crown to you in an act of romanticism. I can't tell you in full, the extent of my simping.

If I didn't know who he is, I would have assumed him to be the ML of a romantic manhwa.

And this panel! He looks so pure in this. Like, he looks genuinely in love. In any other context, I would assume that he's a nice ol' dude trying to sneak in to see his beloved. You can't tell me that that hunk is the villain. That he is the big baddie.

We love a man that would get us roses and stalk our childhood home.

Oh Lord! I love his fashion sense. I normally don't like the leopard print fur, but it hits different with him.This bitch literally never looks bad. Plus he's rich. And is willing to kill his nephew to become Emperor and possibly make you Empress. And is a certified hottie. We love a good rebel....

Seriously, I can't be the only one, right?

Why are my standards for men so dangerously low?

Like again, he never looks bad. This motherfucker looks like he belongs in an add for Gucci fr! Please rail me....

He looks so peaceful in this panel. Like I would love to know what's on his mind (probably murder). I simp for this man so hard. Why can't you be real, goddamnit? Why can't I be the object of your infatuation? What does Bianca have that I don't? Abandonment issues?

I need a magic truck-kun to isekai me.

Again, I'd like to try to fix him, but he doesn't need that much fixing, in my opinion.

Once again, I hope whoever stuck till the end has enjoyed this post. Do me a favour and turn the white heart red🥰

#manhwa #marriage of convenience #prince albert #appreciation post #me being a simp

[calliethetrekkie]

Star Trek TOS S01E03: Mudd's Women

Original Thoughts

"It was mostly boring to me and the whole portrayal of women, while far from the worst I’ve ever seen, just rubbed me the wrong way. This episode is the most blatant reminder that this is a show from the 60’s, and from what I know, it ain’t even close to the last. It’s not necessarily a bad episode, the actor for Mudd is legit charismatic, Kirk was good and pointed out how beauty doesn’t make up who a person is, and the Venus pill being bogus and Eve needed to be more confident in her natural beauty and not reliant on a fake drug was a decent point at the end (though it still doesn’t feel like a properly well-concieved message to me for some reason). But still, not an episode I intend on revisiting."

(Original Post)

I picked bits of the original post because it was way too long.

Rewatch Thoughts

Well, whether past me intended to or not, we're revisiting this one. And my thoughts two years later? Well... not much has changed.

As I said before, the actor for Mudd, Roger C. Carmel, is really charismatic in the role. You could tell that he was having fun with it, and I appreciate that when it comes to villain roles like these. I liked him more in I, Mudd which is a laugh riot, but we're not there yet. But Mudd is very much a stand-out and I can see why they brought him back.

My problem is the exact same as the last time however: the 60's sexism. It's still not the worst I've ever seen, even in the show or even the franchise. It's more annoying than offensive, honestly. But that doesn't mean that I like it any better than I did. The fact that it affected every guy aside from Spock and no women were affected is one thing, but of course they wouldn't have gotten away with that. Heaven knows I'd have probably been a victim of the magnetism haha. And admittedly, seeing Spock reacting to all the guys gaping REALLY helped make it more tolerable. So thanks Spock~!

I guess I didn't hate it as much. I was able to have more fun with it than the last time. And like I said in my original post, I do see some good messages in here. The scene where the women turn 'ugly' and practically beg Mudd for the drug is sad to watch. They feel like they are nothing without their 'beauty' and need the drug for it, which is very much a thing that happens in real life. Especially with Eve, who clearly hates what she's a part of and how the drug makes her feel like a fake. There are women who get manipulated into feeling like without their looks or whatever else they aren't beautiful, even though they are. Kirk saying that you either believe in yourself or you don't and she doesn't need the drug to feel beautiful is also still very much true. Seriously, for a guy the media makes out as a womanizing asshole, he came off as one of the more reasonable here.

The sexism still shows, but again it didn't annoy me as much as before. Heck, bits like Mudd's argument with the computer and as I said Spock just being amused at everyone else's stupidity are hilarious. I still don't like how it ended since it still reeks of 'woman needs a man' and Childress is kind of an asshole and I think Eve deserves better than that. But I guess it's the best I can ask for at this point in time. I can see some goodwill effort in here.

Not much else to read into otherwise. It's an okay episode. It's not as bad as I made it out to be the first time, but it's still not an episode I plan on revisiting much. Mainly because there's just not much else in it, story-wise or character-wise, that interests me in watching it again. But it has its fun moments and isn't a bad watch at all. It's just okay if annoying, which hey that's better than how I felt the last time. The ending scene with Spock and McCoy also made all of it worth it haha~

Original Rating: 2/5

Rewatch Rating: 4/10

[My TOS Reviews]

[TOS S1 Reviews]

[Previous Review] / [Next Review]

#star trek #star trek tos #tos s1 #st reviews #tos s1 reviews #mudd's women #tos reviews

[limeade-l3sbian]

This is gonna be long.

For the anon on her issues with her gf. I agree with Ms. Rad's points. Just adding my perspective.

Self confidence is of utmost importance for one's life; not just for success but for survival itself.

If one already has a very low self confidence, the worst thing ever is having someone make it WORSE.

Get the courage to tell her that you don't appreciate these jokes anymore. As a woman in a very conservative region who was sheltered and locked in the house and had my every movement controlled, the last thing I'd tolerate would be having someone constantly mock me when I was practicing independence. My parent did that and unfortunately he wasn't disposable. Lovers, partners, close friends etc however are very disposable.

Especially partners/friends who don't see you as an intellectual equal in the relationship, but rather someone to laugh at, click their tongues at and guide you to the "right path" through their supreme wisdom. This ruined me when i was already struggling.

I was planning to open up about my feelings to my best friend of 6 yrs who seemed to have some feelings for me as well, but it got postponed because of her similar attitude. She'd not always mock my dependence as I indeed solved a lot of her academic problems back when we were together; on top of that, she was very emotionally dependent on me.

She, however, would mock my intelligence when I didn't grasp a subject as well as she did, when I was busy learning addresses and streets when she knew the entire city, when I first got on a bus myself. She'd mock my intelligence at every turn basically, while knowing full well how controlling my father is and how I had to fight him for any progress. Her go to joke was about me being dumb, simply because I'm (read used to be) cheerful and liked cracking jokes a lot; she admitted so herself. I'm also very hard to anger so she probably thought I'm not smart enough to recognize disrespect. Anon saying she laughes at disrespect reminded me of myself.

As a people-pleaser who used to be pathetically addicted to serving people in any way I could, it took me a lot to finally stand up for myself and respectfully tell her that her patronizing behavior and her degrading jokes were upsetting me, but she just laughed at my requests as if I was a toddler throwing a tantrum. I repeated this many times because I genuinely didn't wanna lose her, but she simply didn't care or turned the tables on me.

Despite my ridiculously forgiving and resigned personality, after a while I completely ditched her without explanation. I had already given her many. I was a literal doormat, yet it got so insufferable that even I said enough is enough. Anon, I'm sure you aren't overreacting.

Honest to God, I don't miss her one bit now. Self confidence is incredibly important and I refrained from trying a lot of things I wasn't allowed to try, lest somebody mocked me for failure. So I completely understand anon on that. However, these types of partners/friends grow to become very controlling too. Mine certainly became very controlling of my life because she believed me to be stupid, so reading experiences similar to mine in anyway boils my blood.

If anon's gf is any better than my best friend, she'll listen to her and stop kicking someone who's already humble and doesn't trust in her skills. Sometimes we upset people with our jokes and we don't realize it; and if this is the case, she'll certainly stop upon anon letting her know.

Otherwise, to me it's so evil to watch people kick at those with battered self confidence when there are so many arrogant assholes out there who need to be humbled instead. They usually kick when we're trying to grow too. I progressed in independence much faster after I ditched her, because I had one less moron in my life to laugh at me when I made a mistake.

Hopefully anon's gf is kind at heart and is simply unaware. Losing a relationship can be very hard. Good luck anon.

!!!

#ask

[appalchianesque]

First post

Hi Tumblypoos!

My name is Tate and I've decided to start a blog dedicated to my academic writing and shit like that. I wanted a place to publish publicly my writings because I'm an attention whore and also because what is the point of writing a bunch of pretentious academic shit without other people to read it and think you're stupid and/or argue with you? I wanted to start a wordpress, I think I'm going to still, but I'm way more familiar with tumblr.

As a mentally ill individual, I've been using tumblr since 2015. I haven't been on for a few years, but I'm back because this is a familiar environment and I know I can swear and basically say whatever I want because way worse has, and will, be said on here. As much as I would like to only be strictly feral here, I think I should have some type of decorum, so I will not be indulging on my personal life and shit talking those I hate, that I know personally. Public figures are fair game. As a tumblr veteran, most, if not all, of my personality and sense of humor are derived from this website, with that being said: I am 25, so essentially geriatric when it comes to the niche culture on here so if what I write comes across as buzzfeed millennial in any way I will be very insecure, and also probably book an appointment to have myself put down. Unfortunately, this is my inner monologue and I fear it may be too late anyway.

I'm very slowly pursuing history and english literature degrees, I think they're fun (hence the hobby blog) and wanted to go to school for something I thought was fun. I'd like to go back for human resource management and tourism and hospitality. I can defer my loans longer :) and I think I would have a wider range of job opportunities in more interesting places. I love Appalachia, which is why my blog theme is centered on that region, the user name, my literal living identity, etc. etc., but I don't want to never not leave, and I would have a better appreciation of it when I come back.

I live very close to the midwest, so in driving through (to buy my weed in Michigan (which I smoke all in Michigan before going home)) I like to compare and contrast the differences between where I live, and how people in .. Ohio .. live, the differences between western and Eastern Pennsylvania, architectural variation across the East Coast. Shit like that. Its all very niche and localized because I've never been anywhere else, and I don't frankly care that much about the cultures of the rest of the US like I do the Midwest, Appalachia & Southern states. They're important, they do have influence on these regions, obviously, and I will give credit where its due but I'm not here for them.

My mother's family is from Ohio. This portion of my family derives from Ireland, Germany, and Czech/Slovak regions. My father's family is Italian. These things are a part of why I do what I do, I think its important to the hard work and perseverance of all of my blue collar family members and what they did to get me where I am today. With the way the US is set up, after a certain point, those cultures were diminished and erased, I know nothing about any of them and so I hope that in this way I will be able to better know and understand what they went through, and who they were.

Furthermore, I love food, clothing, and cultural trends. I firmly believe I can sus out someone's vibe by the shoes they're wearing, and I think that its something that comes with practice, experience and observation. I'm a restaurant industry person, and a food person in general. I'm working on a West Virginian themed cook book, that I can start on again when the spring rolls around because there will be edible things out and about. Not animals, I'm not killing animals. So anticipate recipes and shit like that. I am also a movie snob in the worst way possible, I believe every movie I like and them all together is the best movie curation ever, and those that I don't like are bad for good reason. This is, obviously, not true, but its fun to feel like it is and I'm not ashamed to admit that.

I overuse commas, and I will not apologize or adjust to that. They make sense to me in my head and I am the most important person to me, especially here.

Love u tumblypoos xoxo

Tate :) <3

#culture #fashion #food #clothes #appalachia #west virginia #pennsylvania #ohio #kentucky #mississippi #virginia #north carolina #maryland #michigan #illinois

[promisenolies]

I've been wondering if I'd want to connect with the fic writer community on twitter, but honestly I'm a lot hesitant so I wanted to ask someone with experience about that if I even should. So as a writer who's been around these spaces do you think I'd be making a wise move by opening an account or not? I keep seeing things how writers especially can have pretty shitty time there, but at the same time I'd like to connect with people and right now I don't have any social medias for my writing. Anyway, sorry to come to your inbox out of the blue, I just don't know who else I could ask on anon (I'm shy)

Ooof, well... this is such an interesting time to get an ask like this as I am in the middle of a deep dive into my soul to answer the question of whether to maintain my social media platforms as tied to my writing.

I remember when I first came into this whole...thing. I was falling in love with the guys, my heart fond and endeared...I found Tumblr on accident and discovered social media AUs by an even sweeter accident. I wasn't a stranger to fanfiction thanks to previous fandoms, but I was never super into it...not really.

So I read a bit, found a friend here, and eventually was called to write WINKIAW. I was happy and excited, and adored the people kind enough to leave comments.

Eventually I wandered over to Twitter.... And honestly... probably one of the biggest mistakes I'd made in my time in this fandom. Before twitter I was blissfully unaware of the clique-y nature of the fic writing community. I was (happily) unaware of the worship that is thrust upon a handful of people. I didn't know and didn't experience the dragging of other writers for whatever reason.. Now, granted, I also did not have a large network of supportive people and I found a few great ones via twitter... but over the last few years I've also discovered some of the worst backstabbing, pettiness, and insincerity of humanity there too.. People are fake and the world loves them for it. I can't stand that kind of dynamic.

I used to write because I loved it. Because I was called to it. I then fell into writing because I felt people expected it. And I started to feel like I wasn't meeting expectations anymore. It's not always joy that drives my writing anymore and that makes my heart sad.

What I found in the fic "community" of twitter is not a community at all. At least for me. And I know for a lot of other people as well. But I think it really depends on a number of factors... who you are as a person, what you write, what you support, what you cater to or don't cater to, who supports you (if you can get the "right" writers to support you and promote your work you'll be golden) ... but for me, and for others, the politics of it all can take the fun right out of the fandom experience and writing.

I appreciate the quick information stream twitter has as it relates to the guys... but the toxicity there has worn me down.

I don't know if that helps your debate at all and I know other people will have different responses but those are my general thoughts and feelings about it. I wish you luck in whatever path you choose to take.

#answered asks #fanfic community #twitter