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blouisparadise · 4 years ago

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Here is a list of amazing bottom Louis fics that were posted or completed during the month of January. Between the third month of the Bottom Louis Fic Fest and all the other fics that authors posted throughout the month, it’s clear that this was a great way to start off the year of bottom Louis fics! Happy reading!

1) Leave It All Here In This Bed | Explicit | 1071 words

One of Louis’s many sleepless nights.

2) Games Are Only Fun If You Win | Explicit | 1554 words

Louis and Harry have a bet. If Louis wins that means he's off laundry duty. If he loses well.

Let's just say Harry won't be complaining.

3) If It Makes You Feel Alive | Explicit | 1691 words

Louis is horny one night on the tour bus so he and Harry fuck while trying not to get caught by the others.

4) Beg Me Silently | Explicit | 2140 words

“So, your boyfriend…is he planning a magic night for you at home?”

Louis snorts. “He’s not, actually. He’s pretty hardworking, you see, so he comes home late.”

“Such a shame.” Harry walks towards Louis, so close that they’re sharing the same space. “You’re so beautiful, Louis. If you were mine, I wouldn’t make you wait for me.”

5) Birthday Wishes | Explicit | 2895 words

Note: This is part 3 of this series.

The one where Harry takes Louis to dinner for his birthday, and gifts him with a vibrating butt plug he wears to the restaurant. Fluffy birthday sex follows.

6) New Year, New Beginnings | Explicit | 3577 words

Note: This is part 4 of this series.

The one where Louis and Harry unexpectedly end up at the same New Year's party. Louis makes Harry jealous, and Harry shows him just how bad of an idea that is.

7) Heaven In These Sheets | Explicit | 3557 words

Bunny Hybrid Louis has it out for his boyfriend’s phone.

8) Pits Of Love | Explicit | 3934 words

Harry smells Louis' sweat for the first time after they've moved in together. His alpha goes a bit wild.

9) First Blow Hits You Cold | Explicit | 3986 words

Louis wears a shirt with a big ass H on it for his livestream, and Harry really, really likes it.

10) Close Your Eyes And Surrender To Me | Explicit | 4209 words

Note: This is the sequel to this fic.

Harry hummed and pressed his lips to Louis’ forehead. “I am very stressed, but I also know you’re stressed and tired too.” He glanced to Louis’ face seeing the confirming nod. “But, if you’re sure you’re up for it.” Harry smirked, waiting for Louis to say it was okay before he laid the boy down on the bed and hovered over him. “I really love this color on you. You look so pretty. Always do.” He spoke quietly, rubbing his hands over Louis’ soft thighs and moving them to his tummy. He then moved his hands up to Louis’ hair. It had been a while since Louis’ last haircut and it was now long enough that he could tie it up in little ponytails and even little braids. Louis currently had two hair clips in his hair. One was gold with little stars on it and the other gold with a moon. “I love your hair princess. Do you feel pretty?” He asked.

11) P Is For | Explicit | 4349 words

Note: The pairing for this fic is Louis/Pedro Pascal.

Louis and Pedro, winter in New York, a coffee machine, and bilingualism.

12) Pull Out Your Heart | Explicit | 5028 words

He wants to apologise, the five letters sit on the tip of his tongue but he does not. It means nothing to either of them.

13) Loving You's the Antidote | Explicit | 5070 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest! Check out the full collection here.

Prompt 302: Alpha Harry & Omega Louis are divorced but still spend each other’s heat/rut together because they only really trust each other but things get complicated when Louis (or Harry, author’s choice) spend it with someone else. Cue angst with a happy ending.

14) Sweet Talk With A Hint Of Sin | Explicit | 5095 words

“What the hell are you wearing?” Harry had the nerve to ask, and Louis bristled slightly.

“Well, what the bloody fuck does it look like?” Louis snapped, breaking his seductive demeanor momentarily because he was wearing this ridiculous get-up for Harry. He had thought that this would go over well.

And now that the moment was here, it was going anything but.

Harry’s brain seemingly malfunctioned, completely unbothered by the fact that he was now standing in an actual pool of red wine, or that there might even be broken glass directly next to his feet. He was focused solely on his boy splayed out on their bed. “Are those ears?”

“Yes,” Louis mumbled, reaching up to finger the burnt orange fur of the fox ears. “And a tail,” he said, shifting to lay on his stomach so that his perky ass was on display, showing the way his lube slicked hole had been prepped and was now hugging the impressively sized plug attached to the fox tail.

15) New York's Beauty | Mature | 5274 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest! Check out the full collection here.

Prompt 104: AU where Harry is an alpha wolf and Louis is a hybrid kitten. They were roommates. While they were arguing about something stupid, Harry wanted to bend Louis over the kitchen table and knot him right there. He slowly accepted his feelings and extreme desire for Louis, so he started to tease the hybrid until he would beg Harry to fuck him. They fall in love.

Louis needs to feel comfortable with the camera so harry fucks him until he is blushing and calm and gentle.

16) I Went Astray To Make It Okay And He Made It Easy | Not Rated | 5537 words

Note: This is a sequel to #17 on this list.

Harry makes sure to put on his blue truckers hat that has 'if you ain't a fisherman, you ain't shit' printed on it to hold back his hair out of his eyes. He remembers when he came home after buying it and Louis went on for days about much he looked like such a Dad. He made sure to fuck him hard that night and show him that he's a fucking DILF not just a Dad.

17) You Make My Heart Beat Like The Rain | Explicit | 6611 words

Note: This is the prequel to #16 on this list.

"You're stunning, eh?" Harry whispers, his Canadian accent thick with lust. It usually slips out when he gets horny because he knows it turns Louis on. Harry presses his lips into the curve of his neck. His hot breath makes Louis shiver. He opens his eyes and sees Harry's bigger, tattooed arms wrapped around him, completely engulfing his smaller frame—and, fuck, maybe he is up for it.

Why does his boyfriend have to be such a fucking DILF? He blames it on a twitter thread he read a few weeks ago.

18) Baby, Let Me Love You Goodbye | Explicit | 6837 words

Harry and Louis are going through a divorce after being together for 10 years, so Louis comes over to collect his things, and, well…what’s a little goodbye sex, just one last time?

19) A Place To Call Home | Mature | 8113 words

The thing is, he’s pretty sure he’s found home in a person in his life, someone who’s been essential in everything he’s done since he was seven years old. Through every broken bone, through every breakup, through every failure; through every triumph, personal and professional, and every goal he has scored in his time in Man U, there’s been someone there for it all.

That’s his best mate. Harry. A twenty-two year old with the kindest heart known to man, a slow drawl that is entirely too endearing, with the dreams to open up his own flower shop. A quiet and earnest boy with those he doesn’t know, and open and honest and absolutely lovely with those he loves.

It all hits him, really, the night of their final game of the Premier League. Again, timing is not his forté. They��re gearing up, ready to hit the field for the second half against Liverpool that determines their ranking in the League, when his brain decides to come online (after seventeen years, apparently), and conveniently supply him with the revelation that oh yeah, you’re kind of in love with your best friend.

20) To Love Without Reason | Explicit | 8854 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest! Check out the full collection here.

“Come on in, soldier,” Louis pats Harry’s chest and walks away, leaving Harry to follow behind.

Harry stands in the living room, looking around at Louis’ dwelling. Family pictures placed high on a shelf, certificates of Louis’ practice, and other trinkets that make Harry entirely too nostalgic.

“I have to warn you,” Louis says as he puts the kettle on, the water droplets from his hair trickling down the golden skin of his back. “The door jams if you lock it so you'll have to leave it ajar.”

Harry acknowledges with a soft hum, too entranced by Louis’ glistening skin to form a coherent reply.

21) It's A Game We Play In The Sheets | Explicit | 9426 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest! Check out the full collection here.

“Louis is… He’s a boy I’ve been talking to.” He bit his lip, grin evident. “After I watched one of his videos during a Harry Reacts a few weeks ago I messaged him and…”

His sentence was cut short by the sound of a timid little “Hi” being whispered into his ears.

Harry closed his eyes for a second, pausing to take in the online presence of the real-life fairy, before he opened them and smiled. “Hey Lou. Ready to play with me?”

22) One Track Mind | Explicit | 9911 words

“You have a lot of friends, huh?”

Harry nods again. “A few.” The muscles of his bicep flex under Louis’ touch, and the alpha looks a bit drunk from the feeling, his eyes blinking slower and lips quirking at the corners. He’s leaning in, his alpha scent surrounding Louis from all sides.

“Mm,” Louis hums, squeezing his fingers tight, just to hear the sharp way Harry inhales. Then, when Harry is least expecting it, Louis returns the earlier sentiment—leaning up on his tiptoes and pressing his weight into Harry for balance, drawing his lips up close to Harry’s ear, and whispering, “Why don’t you go tell them goodnight.”

23) See You When I Get Home | Explicit | 10308 words

"What are you thinking about?" He repeats Louis' question from earlier.

"You." Louis' reply comes out in a moan. It shocks Harry, and his brain scrambles for the right thing to do, the right thing to say. He doesn't even know how to feel, or if he even heard Louis correctly.

"Me?"

24) Floating | Explicit | 10435 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest! Check out the full collection here.

The one where Louis has control over water in every form but he doesn't know what to do with it. Harry is here to guide him.

25) I'm At Your Mercy Now (And I'm Ready To Begin) | Teen & Up | 10552 words

Where Louis' soulmark was leaked, Harry keeps his private. They're both famous popstars. Louis is waiting for his soulmate, Harry has a feeling it's him but Louis is completely oblivious.

26) You And I 'Till The Day We Die | Explicit | 10807 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest! Check out the full collection here.

Prompt 124: A fic inspired by Groupie Love by Lana Del Rey, where Harry is a Rockstar and Louis is his cute little boyfriend who tries to hide himself in the middle of the crowd. (Preferably set in the 80s)

27) Moonlit Sky Over Gentle Waters | Explicit | 11377 words

Harry left his hometown to sail the seven seas and returns seven years later, yearning for something — or rather, someone — that he isn't sure he can have.

28) Late Night Devil Put Your Hands On Me (And Never, Never, Ever Let Go) | Explicit | 11524 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest! Check out the full collection here.

Harry is a demon that feeds off of people’s nightmares. He finds his next meal in Louis’ dreams where he changes and molds them to become scary nightmares. Soon harry learns Louis is a lucid dreamer- he can act on his own in his dreams. They interact in the real world and have sex in the dream world. when the demon catches feelings for louis, he wants to live.

29) If You're Feeling Lonely | Explicit | 12807 words

The guest list is on the desk. Louis runs through it and stops a third of the way down, a familiar name catching his attention.

Harry Styles.

All he needs to do is confirm whether Harry Styles is the same Alpha whose scent left such a memorable impression on his body.

30) Want You To Play With Me | Explicit | 14335 words

"I'm quite not finished with you yet." Harry whispered right on the shell of his ears and squeezed the girth of his cock, making Louis shudder a sloppy puff of air as the tickling sensation ran through his spine, Harry was intoxicating. "Let me play with you a little more, Lou. I promise I'll give you what you want. Be my good boy, hm?" He slowly annunciated every word and licked a warm line on the nape of Louis' neck — Louis curled in his arms at that. Submitting himself a little bit more.

"Always wanna be your good boy." Louis whispered back and enveloped Harry's hand in his.

31) No Good Unless It's Real | Explicit | 17021 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest! Check out the full collection here.

Louis is a very busy farmer who’s just trying to make it to his next nap and Harry’s the new hot vet that’s determined to infiltrate every area of his life.

32) Tennis Court | Explicit | 18285 words

Louis and Harry are co-workers and Louis is sure Harry hates him because he always refuses to help him with his heats.

33) Joker Is Wild | Explicit | 18444 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest! Check out the full collection here.

Prompt 390: A reality show AU where Louis, Harry, Liam, Zayn and Niall are selected to stay at confined in a luxury mansion for 1 month, where they are required to have explicit, graphic sex at all times, like a porn Big Brother kind of show. Every week there are several different sexual tasks and trials that they must overcome together, which all ends in orgasms for all of them. When the boys all discover Louis is strictly a bottom, and a slutty one at that, they all can’t wait to get their hands on him. Bonus if other hot celebs are there too, like Shawn Mendes, for example. Includes lots of hard gay sex, rimming, blowjobs, gang bangs, ass worshipping (Louis ass, of course) and double penetration.

34) Baby, Let Me Love You Goodbye | Not Rated | 20249 words

Louis almost calls Harry daddy. Cue denial, feelings, and way too much dirty talk.

35) Give So Much (Not Enough) | Mature | 24610 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest! Check out the full collection here.

“For my little lion,” Louis slid the smoothie bowl in front of Oscar, letting him dig in with his little hands. “And for daddy.”

He didn’t process the bowl in front of him, the push across the table causing a raspberry to roll off and fall on his lap, because Louis calling himself mummy may make him feel all sorts of mushy emotions, but Louis addressing Harry as daddy was suddenly having a very different effect on him. Since when did Louis saying daddy out loud render him speechless?

“Daddy’s still sleepy, but we’re up bright and early right Ossie?” Louis’ cooing shook him out of his daze. The man coughed, picking the raspberry off his lap and swallowing it with unintentional, and very unnecessary, eye contact with Louis. “Well, is it better than your protein smoothies and why?”

Harry chuckled, spooning another heap of the strawberry banana goodness into his mouth, “Way better sweetheart.”

A friends to lovers au with tons of mama Louis and domesticity.

36) Short And Sweet | Explicit | 29658 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest! Check out the full collection here.

Louis is a shy university student in a world scarce of male omegas. He's always dreamt of having an alpha despite his sheltered upbringing, fantasizing about being loved and cared for. He's immediately smitten by the mysterious alpha with curly hair, broad shoulders, and the addictive coffee scent.

37) Under Thorn And Bramble | Explicit | 31931 words

Note: The pairing of this fic is Louis/OMC. This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest! Check out the full collection here.

Prompt 445: A historical AU where Louis is working as a servant on a farm. The family that owns the farm is exceedingly cruel to him and he is often exhausted and in pain from his work. A mysterious stranger boards at the farm and is very intrigued by Louis, but Louis doubts his interest in genuine. Any pairing fine.

38) Pink In The Night | Explicit | 32324 words

His finger was tapping on Louis’ chat before Harry could even think about it, eyes reading over the last text he’d sent Louis. I miss you. Do you miss me?

Harry had felt so pathetic that December night, alone in the dark room of the Japanese apartment he’d been staying at, the strong smell of alcohol clinging to his clothes.

Louis hadn’t replied, but Harry wasn’t surprised; he had texted Louis a few times before while he’d been away, but there had never been a response.

It pained him to admit that this was their new normal.

39) Coeur De Pirate | Explicit | 34207 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest! Check out the full collection here.

He tilts his chin up as the Captain strides across the deck, his footfalls falling loudly against the planks. The crew watches them from afar.

Stepping into his space, the Captain wraps an arm around Louis’ waist and pulls him in. He lowers his head to breathe his words against Louis’ cheeks. “I won,” he whispers, “I’ve come to claim my prize.”

40) If The Sun Don't Shine | Explicit | 36330 words

In a world where you meet your soulmates in dreams, Louis has spent the last three years going to bed hoping to finally meet his, only to end up disappointed time and time again. It all changes with a violin.

41) The Pirate And The Piper | Explicit | 38396 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest! Check out the full collection here.

The one where Harry is Hook, Louis is Pan, and nothing is what it seems.

42) Begged And Borrowed Time | Mature | 40198 words

Prompt 60: Time travel AU where Louis somehow gets thrown back in time and ends up in the dark ages, during the reign of the Styles family.

43) I Ain’t Gonna Fence You In | Mature | 40645 words

Louis Tomlinson is a 18 year old city boy who is forced to spend his summer before his senior year at his aunts farm. There, he meets Harry, a 19 year old country boy his aunt hired to help around the farm.

Maybe the farm isn't the worst place to fall in love?

44) Don't Want No Other Shade Of Blue | Explicit | 43285 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest! Check out the full collection here.

Prompt 339: it was foretold that Alpha Prince Harry would be mated to a beautiful male omega with eyes that could rival the stone amethyst, but Omega Prince Louis refuses to believe it.

45) No Easy Choice, But You’re Mine | Explicit | 44963 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest! Check out the full collection here.

Louis is an omega hitman with one last job that goes a little sideways. Harry is the alpha bartender that looks a little too closely and cares a little too much.

46) Sedative Duty | Explicit | 46588 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest! Check out the full collection here.

Pop-star of the moment Louis Tomlinson is on his third-world tour. He decides to hire renowned professional dominant Harry Styles to unwind while on the road. In an effort not to raise suspicion by the crew, fans, and press, Harry pretends to be his bodyguard. He ends up being far more than that.

47) Just Always Be Waiting for Me | Explicit | 46837words

Note: Please be sure to check tags for any trigger warnings.

Harry Styles is a librarian at a private school who is not very devoted to his job but is very devoted to Louis Tomlinson, the resident English teacher, and has been ever since they met six years ago beneath a lonely streetlight.

Louis Tomlinson is a self confessed bookworm whose passion for Peter Pan, the literary classics and Harry Styles' happiness knows no bounds. He's self sacrificing, somewhat self loathing and haunted by a trauma he can't talk about.

Mutual pining abounds in this fic where a Peter Pan quote is never just a Peter Pan quote, caretaking is a love language and a platonic nude is never actually platonic. Louis has a kiss that belongs to Harry but he also has a painful past that might end up hurting them both.

48) Since The Future | Explicit | 48947 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest! Check out the full collection here.

"It's done."

The words were barely above a whisper when they left Harry's mouth, but they hit Louis with the force of a freight train. It was done. Holy fuck. They had created a time machine. And tomorrow, they were travelling to the future.

49) Dirty Laundry Looks Good On You | Explicit | 50581 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest! Check out the full collection here.

When Louis Tomlinson finds his clothes lying in a sad soapy mess on top of the washing machine in which they are supposed to be, he acts upon his anger and retaliates. What he doesn’t expect is having to deal with a six-feet tall, curly-haired and dimpled man in return, who seems to arouse confusing feelings within him and to make his life take an unexpected turn for the better (or worse?).

50) Hamartia | Explicit | 66970 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest! Check out the full collection here.

Six years is a long time for Louis to mend his heart back and erase every lingering, stubborn memory of his ex-lover, Harry Styles. But when news of the war being over spreads across the world like wildfire, and he stumbles upon the alpha he vowed himself to never see ever again, he realises that not even a lifetime will be enough for him to pick up the scattered, broken parts of his soul. He's far from expecting the alpha he loved to be struggling in the same way.

All the ointments in the world might never soothe the pain out, but it doesn't take long for them both to come to the conclusion that, maybe, the only medicine to their heartbreaks are what caused them in the first place.

51) Feeling Borrowed, Always Blue | Explicit | 68214 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest! Check out the full collection here.

Louis has been dreaming of his wedding since he was young - he just never expected it to happen like this. words

52) Mind Over Matter (You Under Me) | Explicit | 73825 words

Note: This fic was written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest! Check out the full collection here.

It’s dark outside when Harry finishes practice for the day.

53) Rogue | Not Rated | 94992 words

Louis is a rogue Omega who's suffered through rejection and abuse for the biggest part of his life. He stumbles onto the Styles pack, quite possibly the kindness one he's ever met.

54) Chandeliers And Fake Smiles | Mature | 145010 words

On the brink of winning their first Grammy; up-and-coming rock band One Direction find themselves in the midst of the biggest scandal of their career - right before tickets for their world tour go on sale. in order to save their reputation, Louis Tomlinson must find it in his heart to forgive pop singer and heartthrob Harry Styles after his first impression rubbed him entirely the wrong way. after all, they cannot sell a relationship if it looks like they hate each other.

Check out our other fic rec lists by category here and by title here.

You can find other monthly roundup fic rec lists here.

#bottom louis #top harry #blp fic recs #monthly fic recs #fic recs #larry

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hongjoongtrasher · 4 years ago

Text

the beauty and the beast (chapter 2)

word count: 5k around

angst, fluff, smut

triger warnings: mention of child abuse, violence etc.

series masterlist

Synopsis:

When you move to a new city due to your father's job, you don't expect to stay for a long and so decided not to get attached to the world around you.

But still, you are "the new girl", unwillingly attracting people's attention because of your family's background. Your strict father expects a lot from you, not to say perfection. And when you are sit next to a certain Jung Yunho, you didn't expect your life to take a radical turn

Yunho always have been hating wealthy people. Or just people who were boasting about all the damn money they had and he hadn’t. Oh maybe it was childish to hate richer than himself, but he didn’t hate them for no reasons. He always felt disgusted by their pity, the way they would just «burn some cash » because they could, because they had too much. He concluded every rich guy was like this, and you weren’t an exception. At the very moment his eyes landed on your person, he could instantly feel this familiar aura. A daddy’s girl, probably richer than everyone’s parents in this school. And just the fact of you sitting next to him was driving him crazy.

He ignored you all the time. And he was glad in a way you didn’t try to talk to him, because he would have snapped all his hatred he was feeling towards people like you. But for a fact, he could admit that you weren’t acting like other rich kids around. The way you flinched when his friend was about to lift his hand at you, also the fact you were lonelier than he thought. Oh yes he indeed noticed you being the silent girl around, and at first he thought it was because you were the new girl, and that it was just a facade and soon or later you would just boast like the others.

It’s already been two weeks since you arrived here and yet you were as quiet as usual. You tried to acclimatize to every thing but as the good girl you were, your father thought it was a good opportunity for you to get into extra classes. Last night, you came back home near midnight, exhausted by this long day after studying like crazy. That’s why you didn’t even care to look at Yunho this morning when you sat down, as usual not peeping a word to him since the incident on the rooftop. Actually you tried to flip over and over again the same problem. Why he hated you this much ? But after some days, you understood he was hating every one the same way. Skipping classes, or when he was making act of presence just sleeping on his desk became the routine but today he was here. You quietly opened your bag to settle your pencils and workbooks. Yunho’s back facing you while he was probably taking a nap. Your English teacher came and when she started the class, she stated. « Alright guys, today you’ll be paired up. I want you to improvise a short sketch with what you learnt this past week. Just pair up with your neighbor. You have fifteen minutes »

Your eyes widened at her statement as you felt your heart throbs violently into your chest. Being in a team with Yunho was probably the last thing you thought which could become true today. And speaking of him, you heard a groan next to you, making you freezing as he slowly turned to you before staring at you.

« Just telling you, I don’t have a clue of what she said, so don’t expect me to do well »

How nonchalant he was at this moment almost made you scoff.

« You should have been here then. » you groaned back while opening your notebook.

His brows quirked at how you answered to him.

« Someone got more brave huh ? » he said before straightening on his chair and looked at the textbook of yours on your desk and took it to read the last two pages to your astonishment.

« Didn’t bring it, so I’ll just use yours. » he explained as if it was the most normal thing in the world.

« Great. » you answered and just scribbles some words on a page. You didn’t want to waste your time for such a jerk like him? At least you would have done your task by yourself, just for yourself and not him. You couldn’t let Yunho drag your grades down…You couldn’t just relax yourself.

Some silence installed between you two while others students were trying to do the task your teacher asked, but instead, Yunho took time to actually look at you. Somehow you looked exhausted, non to say to the verge of fainting. Your lips were pale, and dirk circles could be seen under your eyes.

« Didn’t sleep well last night ? » he asked randomly as he pretended to read the book under his eyes.

You badly wanted to ignore him. What the heck ? Just few weeks ago he openly said he hated you so you just accepted this fact and now he was chatting like you as nothing happened ?

« Studied late » you answered drily.

« Ha, I see you went to those extra classes which are costing your butt’s skin. »

You offered him a dark glare, making him look into your eyes. If course he wasn’t attending any of this, so he couldn’t really understand the situation you were in.

« And ? Is it going to change your life ? »

He shrugged.

« No, but I guess you’re a hardcore student » he hummed before he took his pencil to write down some words on his own paper. « Must be so boring » he added mockingly.

You wanted to answer back to him and spit how rude he was from the first place. You acknowledged the fact your life was boring as fuck, you were the first one to say it, but there were limits to making fun of this matter. Soon your teacher clapped her hands to catch everyone’s attention.

« Alright guys, it’s time. Who want to go first ? »

It was the usual game of « I don’t know what you’re saying », essentially based on avoid your teachers’ eyes and doing as you was busy enough not to make her choosing you. Your teacher smirked. « I see everyone’s eager to go, soooo…Y/N and Yunho, you go first. »

You panicked a bit, because except this little conversation you both hadn’t talked at all about your coed work. But Yunho didn’t seem bothered by this at all and stood up with his paper and just nudged your shoulder so you could stand up and go to the front with him. What was he playing at ?

Actually you thought Yunho was someone who didn’t give a shit to studies. His consecutive absences were not helping for his case but surprisingly, he opened the sketch with a good English. So good that you were surprised, making you go blank for a second. He looked at you before moving his lips silently « Y/N. » You shook your head and continued this weird play. At the end, your teacher seemed satisfied by your work and allowed you to go back to your sits so the next pair could go on.

When you sat down again, you looked at Yunho again.

« I thought you would’t do well » you mumbled.

He laughed lowly and it troubled you. It was the first time you heard him laugh. The first time he wasn’t showing hostility to you.

« You may think I’m a lazy ass, but I got some things stocked in this » he whispered, pointing at his head before leaning back on his chair.

Classes ended soon for the usual lunch break. Yunho got up and got out of the room without a word for you, as usual. Today you decided to stay into the classroom to eat. You never went back on the rooftop since you met the three boys. As you were unpacking the lunchpack you got from Sookja, you just took some time to think about this morning. Was Yunho being nice to you a sign to be more suspicious of him ? You were into your thought when you heard a voice calling your name.

« Y/N ? »

You looked up and saw a girl standing at your desk.

« Huh…Yeah ? »

She smiled to you and said.

« I’m Jisoo, erm…we’re in the same class and…I…Would you like to eat lunch with me ? » she asked shyly.

You were flustered by this sudden proposition. It was the first time someone was reaching out for you since you were in this school. Jason was a petite girl, with shorts hair and pink round cheeks. She looked nice so you couldn’t say no.

« Of course, but…mh, are you sure ? I’m not a good company » you confessed, embarrassed by this.

« I figured out you were eating alone every day and mhhh, I…just want to know you better you see ? I mean, don’t get me wrong ! I’m not approaching you because you’re the newbie or rich girl around ! »

You chuckled at her answer and made some space for her to eat your lunch on this tight desk.

« Thanks…actually I don’t feel like eating with a lot of people » you mumbled, peeling a boiled egg.

Jisoo looked surprised by your statement.

« Why not ? Well, people aren’t trying neither but…It would be a pity to let you out right ? You seem nice, so… »

Jisoo unpacked her own pink lunchbox where cherry tomatoes and egg roll and others nice things were lying inside.

« That’s cute ! Are you cooking it yourself ? » you said, trying to make a conversation.

She nodded with a proud smirk.

« Yes ! I like cooking, but since I’d pack too much I’m doing basic things. You ? Looks good as well. »

« Mh…Actually I don’t know how to cook » you answered uneasily.

« Oh must be your mom then ? »

It was a slippery subject, but since Jason made the genuine effort to come and talk to you, you didn’t feel like making up lies.

« I don’t have a mom…Huh, I mean I have one, but my parents divorced when I was little and…never seen her since » you mumbled, eating piece of kimchi.

Jisoo’s expression went bad and you could easily know why, so you quickly said.

« It’s fine, don’t worry, I don’t try to see her neither so I’m used to. Instead we have a housekeeper. She’s making my lunch every day, so I guess it’s like a mom. »

« Oh…I’m sorry still. I didn’t know »

You gave her a comforting smile as you two ate your lunch peacefully, getting to know each other’s better.

« Say, I saw you this morning with Yunho… Is he nice with you ? » asked Jisoo out of the blue.

You almost had forgotten about your gloomy classmate, so you hummed in hesitation.

« He’s a jerk, the first day I arrived he just openly said he hates me » you groaned, packing back your empty box.

« He hates every one outta here » Jisoo added, not seemed surprised. « But…there are a lot of rumours about him » she said lowly as if she was scared someone would overhear her words.

You arched a brow, curious about those said rumours.

« What kind of rumours ? »

« He’s fighting a lot with other people, basically a bad boy. You’ve seen it already, but he’s skipping classes a lot and no one really knows what he’s doing. » Jisoo explained. « I’ve never seen him hitting someone myself, but …be careful ? I don’t want him to hurt you or anyone else around »

Was he this terrible ? The image of Yunho laughing this morning was still lingering into your head. So you just nodded at her advice. It was almost time for classes again so Jisoo left you and friendly waved her hand at you before going back to her desk while other people were coming back. You expected Yunho to skip class again, but surprisingly his tall figure appeared before the bell rang. He got back to his desk and again laid his head on the desk, ignoring you in the process.

It was Korean history class, and it would be a lie to say it was boring as hell. Although you were still taking notes of every thing, Yunho was still acting like a dead body. He didn’t say a word to you for the rest of the day. And at 5pm sharp, you got out from school to go to your extra classes. You’re still drained from your day, and the idea to study more was giving you a headache. By chance, you were allowed to go alone there, taking the bus.

That’s how Yunho saw you walking to the bus stop while he was going to his motorbike, helmet in his hand. You were a weird girl. Never before he got interested into a girl, all being the same when it comes to approach him for his bad boy vibe like. Bullshit. He hated those childish girls, but surprisingly you didn’t have this side into your attitude. Again, Yunho was shocked to think about you from time to time. « Get yourself back Jung Yunho » his conscious told him before he saw the bus passing by his eyes.

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

Days were flying by and your first mock exams were coming at the corner. You had worked like a slave for this days, sleeping few hours a night to study more and more, the menacing shadow of your father planning above your head. Jisoo was eating lunch with you every day since. You girl got closer after few days and you considered her like your friend. She was the first person to hear about your familial situation and the gape, or more the ravine between you and your father. You must say it was a relief to be able to confess every thing to someone exterior to your house.

Jisoo seemed pissed off when you told her you were used not to get attached to people due to you moving almost every year to another city.

« That’s so awful ! » she cried, grabbing the carton of fruit juice you got from the machine.

« Yeah…My father is a stone cold asshole » you mumbled, the straw between your lips.

« Girl, when exams are over, let’s have fun alight ? Fight me if your father says no ! »

Jisoo was so cute. You couldn’t imagine this little girl tossing her fists at your father, but somehow the image was funny. That’s how you promised you would.

This day again you had to go to extra classes, and today was really a day you wished someone would ditch you from this living hell. Waiting at the bus stop, you were spacing out when you heard the sound of a roaring engine before it stopped right before you. The man on the moto lifted the smoked visor on his helmet to reveal his face. You heart stopped when you recognise Yunho. You didn’t know you he could drive such a thing but he seemed proud of it as he smirked to you.

« Need a drive ma’am ? » he asked.

What the fucking hell ? One day he was ignoring you like a ghost and another day he was talking to you and now proposing you to ride his moto ?

« Wha- I don’t understand, what are you trying to do here ? » you groaned back as he stabilised himself and just throw at you another helmet.

« Wear this. » he ordered without answering your question.

You looked at him in hesitation. Was he serious ? Or was he trying to drag you into another salty problem ? As he could read into your head, he rolled his eyes.

« I won’t throw you over a bridge you know ? »

« Huh…So tell me what are you trying to do ? I’m utterly sick of your hot and cold game. One day you’re saying you’re hating me, fine. And another one you’re actually trying to convince me to ride on a motorbike with you. »

« Get on, we’ll talk later » he groaned, glaring at you which intimated you.

Soon enough you were at the back of the motorbike, and before he drove, he took your arm to make you hug his waist tightly.

« Don’t ever let it go. If we fall I’d rather you fall with me than the motorbike » he explained.

You were about to protest, but he drove, making you instantly hold him tightly. It was the first time you were being driven on a moto, and the air going through your hair, the warmth of Yunho’s back against your chest was a total discovery for you. You were scared, not to say terrified. But Yunho was really driving carefully, although he liked to make his engine roar when the road was clear. When you weren’t scared enough to focus on his back only, you tried to see where he was going, and soon recognise the way to your extra classes. How did he know ? After some more minutes of furious roars, he stopped in front of a building you could recognise. He waited for you to get off the engine so he could as well get off.

Taking off the helmet you took a giant breath, your heart beating like crazy.

« How was the ride ? » he asked in a tease, watching you regaining strength.

« You’re crazy. Absolutely crazy » you hissed, shoving his helmet in his arms. « And how did you know it was here I was going ? »

Yunho couldn’t tell you he once followed you until there. Actually, he didn’t know himself why he had followed you, but after some days when he came back there, he saw your figure through a window, totally exhausted almost dozing on your work. Something made him stay here for a while, just watching you from afar this day. You were the representation of what he hated the most, and yet you were just a normal girl, acting like a normal girl. Moreover you looked so tired every day, and he was just wondering until how far you’d push yourself to be this perfect student.

« I just figured it out when I came one the neighbourhood with Hongjoong and some friends. We are hanging out quite a lot here» he grumbled. It wasn’t really a lie right ? Hongjoong and Yeosang were living in this area, so they were meeting quite a lot after classes in the neighbourhood.

You rolled your eyes before staring at him in confusion. Why was he being nice all of the sudden ?

Anyway, you needed to go, having enough of this nonsense.

« Thanks for the ride, but don’t hope to get me on this bike from hell any sooner » you groaned before taking your lead inside the building, not paying a look at your classmate.

Yunho smirked and shook his head.

« Bike from hell… »

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

Hours passed, and when the clock showed around ten, classes ended. You sighed and rubbed your eyes from exhaustion, slowly getting out the building to see the motorbike was still here. But not Yunho. Looking around, you tried to see if he was around. Seemed he was not. While admiring his black shiny engine, you got lost in your inner thought again. It was so strange for him to act this kindly but none without saying dangerously toward you. And the fact he discovered where you were studying was still a mystery for you, not totally convinced by the total luck of him running on this place.

« It’s maybe a bike from hell, but still pretty right ? » a voice exclaimed at you, making you jump.

Yunho was back, a bag in his hand from the CU, the nearby convenient store. You crunched up your nose. Why was he still here ?

« I met the guys, and was about to go home. » he explained again as if he could read your thought.

« Oh what a coincidence ! » you mimicked still not convinced if he was lying or not.

« Y/N I’m not lying, Hongjoong literally lives two blocks away from here. » he said seriously.

You sighed and turned around to leave. But when you walked past way his position he asked in a relax tone:

« I got some ice cream, want some ? »

It was going from dumb and dumber. Seriously you couldn’t put a finger on his weird behaviour. With a suspicious look you were about to say no, but he cut you.

« Your brain needs sugar. It’s past ten, and you’ve been studying for four hours straight. I guess you didn’t have diner too huh. »

« And what does it concern you ? » you snapped, turning to face him. « It’s not as if you would be this concerned for someone you hate right ? I don’t understand Yunho, I don’t understand you and your attitude. »

Yunho bite his lower lip, knowing himself he got in a weird situation.

« Yeah I know I said I hated people like you, but I didn’t say I hated you » he mumbled.

There was this embarrassing silent again, only the noises of the city filling the icy atmosphere between you.

« People like me. What do you mean ? Did I do something wrong to deserve this attitude ? » you crossed your arms, decided to cleared this shit.

Yunho felt uneasy to talk about it, but somehow he didn’t want to stay in a bad relationship with you. Instead, he took a ice cream from the bag and handled it to you.

« Eat, I will explain it to you after. » he mumbled, looking away.

You gave him a glance but finally took the ice cream, your stomach making you remember you were starving at the moment. It was a vanilla strawberry ice cream. You almost laughed by seeing this.

« Didn’t know you had so girlish tastes » you said ironically putting the ice cream into your mouth.

« I got mine, what do you mean ? I knew you would maybe get out at this hour and I just felt like buying you this » he justified himself by taking his own ice cream, green tea flavoured.

You both sat down on the empty academy’ stairs to eat your ice creams in silence. There were so much questions you wanted to ask, trying to figure out how to deal with him.

« I’m living alone with my mom. My dad and her divorced when I was ten or something. He was violent dude and was hitting my mom, so he got arrested by the police when the neighbours got fed up by the every day fights. But the thing is…we always had financial problems because of this bastard. He borrowed money from loan sharks, an astronomical amount and got my mom in trouble even after he got arrested. » said Yunho, blankly staring at the floor.

All you could do was listening to him. Surprisingly, you never imagined something this horrible would have happened to him.

« My mom sold everything she had to give the money back, so we lost our house and now we’re living in a small studio. Even though she’s working, her salary is just enough to cover the rent and the rest is going to those loan sharks. »

His voice was weak, almost silent as he felt his barriers falling down. He looked so fragile, his broad shoulders shuddering slowly, his dark hair covering his eyes. You felt your heart sinking at his reflection.

« Of course I wanted to help her as soon as I could get a job, getting some part time jobs but she wants me to focus on school. » he laughed bitterly, watching his ice cream melting. « I’ve soon been taught that school wasn’t going to make things better. And people knowing about my family matters were just doing things out of pity for us. It drove me crazy. I hate people boasting about how nice it is to have money, how nice it is to be a normal happy family and just feel the others like shit. »

That’s how you figured out why Yunho hated rich people. And how he probably thought you were the same as the others he could have seen before. The bitterness you were feeling towards him vanished in an instant. How such a tough guy like him could appear so broken ? How hard must it have been for him all those years ?

« I…I’m sorry. » you muttered, not really knowing how to carry on.

« No, it’s fine. I’m aware you’re from a wealthy fam, but I figured out you weren’t like those bitches gossiping around. » he said, taking back some composure as he ate a part of the leaking ice cream.

« But…How are you doing ? I mean, are you eating correctly ? » you asked, genuinely worried about his health at the moment.

He chuckled and looked at you.

« My grand parents are supporting us. » he said, ruffling his hair with his hand. « The only time I worked during summer break, they refused the money. That’s how I got my moto »

There was another long pause, before you felt the cold liquid from your ice cream falling on your hand, making you yelp in surprise. Yunho smirked and laughed lightly, watching you fighting with your ice cream.

« Eat, I’ll drive you back home…If you let me to, I mean » he said, rubbing his nape after finishing his own snack.

« Alright, but don’t even think of doing the rodeo on the way back. » you grumbled and get on.

Once again on Yunho’s motorbike, you watched the city streaming before your eyes, neons of all colours leaving particular marks in the dark night. The cold air now hitting your body made you hug Yunho’s tighter. You didn’t know how to feel towards him. But you understood the situations he got through and up until now, you thought you’d have done the same if you had to be in the same game. But it wasn’t a game. You knew Yunho wasn’t a real bad guy. Things forced him to do tough tasks. You were ready to forgive him, as long as he promised at least to be this hostile to you.

When you arrived near your big complex, you made sign to Yunho to stop right before the actual building. He turned the engine off and let you get off his moto. Taking off the helmet, you gave it back to him but he stopped you.

« Keep it. »

« What ? But .. »

« It won’t be the last time you will get on this Y/N » he said with a smirk. « But anyway, why did you make me drop you here ? I could go to the right building »

« Erm…I rather not. My father could see this and…I guess he wouldn’t like seeing his daughter riding a motorbike with a boy he doesn’t know. » you spurred out.

Yunho raised a brow at your comment about your father. He barely saw him at your first day but he seemed like a strict man. He nodded.

« I see, well…See you around ? »

« Yeah…if you don’t skip classes » you giggled, relaxed by this friendly or at least less hostile conversation.

Yunho scoffed and ruffled your hair, which surprised you.

« Maybe. »

Then he sent you off, waiting for you to go inside the building before driving back to his empty home. He mostly had said the truth to you, but he voluntarily omitted to add his mom got admitted to the hospital weeks ago. And he didn’t want you to pity him furthermore.

When you stepped inside the silent apartment, you noticed your father’s shoes weren’t at the entrance, meaning he wasn’t home. You sighed in relief, hurrying yourself to hide the helmet in your room, under your bed. Only Sookja got a glimpse at you rushing at your room.

« Y/N ? Is everything alright ? » she asked while she was in the kitchen.

« Yes ! Every thing is alright ! » you shouted back at her before going back to the kitchen to eat the late diner she prepared you.

Sookja took a look at your face. You were indeed tired, but something had changed. She could feel you were less, stressed ? The old woman sweetly smiled to you watching you eat.

« Did something nice happen today at school ? » she asked innocently, aware you normally aren’t really openly talking about your school days.

You looked at her, enjoying the warm soup after the cold weather you faced on Yunho’s bike.

« Erm…Yeah we can say that » you mumbled, slightly embarrassed but yet excited.

Sookja was a confident. You could tell her anything, she would never repeat to your father. She waited for you to keep on.

« There is a ..classmate of mine. At first we were like cats and dogs you know ? But today we sorted things out and I guess it’s fine now »

« I’m glad to ear this sweetie » she said in pure relief and joy for you. « Have you made friends ? »

« There is Jisoo ! She’s a part of my class as well. She’s a really warm person » you said, after taking more bites of rice and others side dishes.

Your housekeeper was happy to know you were getting a better life than you have had until now. She hoped some day you would be free from your father’s influence and fly by your own wings. That’s how she was thinking and wished the most for you.

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

After this strange night, days have been more packed. The day of your mock exams, you gave it all, knowing that although it was only a mock one, your father wouldn’t let it pass. After giving back your sheets, you and Jisoo were talking at the cafeteria. The petite teenager stretched and sighed.

« Y/NNNNN ! What should I do ? I’m sure I’ll fail ! »

« Don’t say that Ji’, I’m sure you’ll do well »

« It’s easy for you ! You always have good grades. » she pouted.

« I wished I could have less than 100 believe me » you groaned.

From the corner of your eyes, you glimpsed the tall figure of Yunho with Mingi and Hongjoong. He was sitting with them with the same expressionless face he used to put on at school. But when he was sitting next to you during class, he didn’t ignore you anymore, nor tried to nap. He was surely warming up to you, but it seemed he wasn’t ready to let his friends see him this way with you.

« - today ? » you heard Jisoo’s voice.

« Mh ? Sorry, I wasn’t listening » you said, going back to your friend.

Jisoo pouted again before following your gaze and leaned near to your face with a teasing face.

« Guuuurl, it seems you and Yunho got closer or is it me ? »

« Gosh, Ji ! It’s not what you think ! We just sorted things out, but we’re not friends or things like this » you mumbled back, embarrassed by her behaviour.

« Well, that’s not really the impression I have. Did you remark he’s not skipping classes lately ? »

« Maybe he got enlightened by God to study ? » you suggested in a grin.

You both laughed and today, you felt relieved as you didn’t have to go to extra classes, the academy being closed for the spring break that was soon arriving. Somehow, you convinced your father to let you go to Jisoo’s house for the weekend, heavily pretexting she wanted you to tutor her for the real exams. He seemed suspicious, but since your school grades were good so far, he didn’t have any objections to make.

While for packing your bag, you received numerous notifications on KakaoTalk. Jisoo created a group chat with the others kids who were going to come at her house for the weekend. Mostly girls and maybe some boys, but it didn’t really matter for you only the fact you had the chance to spend time with your friend, making some other friends ?

You happily answered to the text saying you’d come by yourself at the indicated address and time before locking your phone again. When you were almost done packing, your phone vibrated again but this time wasn’t the group chat. « Jung Yunho » appeared at your screen, leaving you speechless for a moment.

윤호

Need a ride for this weekend ?

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onewithnomightypowers · 4 years ago

Text

clandestine (chapter 7)

PAIRING: Tom Holland x fem!Reader

SUMMARY: Y/N is an up and coming actress, married to a once hotshot actor, Harrison (Haz). What happens when her co-star, Tom, makes her realise that she is stuck in a loveless marriage. A marriage starts crumbling and a new romance stars brewing.

chapter 7: rabbit hole

A/N: i do not encourage cheating. omg THE LAST CHAPTER!!!! i hope you guys like this chapter!! feedback is always appreciated. thanks for reading <3

warnings: drinking, cursing, hate comments

word count: 1.6k

important: bold and italic are character thoughts

series masterlist main masterlist chapter 6

Love, easy it comes and easy it goes. Y/N and Haz’ calamitous love had no tracks ahead of it. The only thing they could do was jump off the train before it crashed and burned. Y/N took that step and fell on Tom’s doorstep. When Haz saw her leave, he understood that hurt couldn’t save a dying soul, so he jumped too, causing their marriage to fall off a hill.

They left the hobbit’s room with a sea of change in their aura. Both had bloodshot eyes from all the rivers they swam through. “I will go settle the tab”, Haz said without meeting her eyes. Y/N walked towards her driver, Arnold, who was standing near the main entrance, eager to tell her about the situation outside.

“There is a herd of paparazzi out there, ma’am”, he said.

Y/N hummed in acknowledgment.

“Shall we go?” Haz walked over to them.

“Yeah”, her voice was small and dry.

Arnold opened the door and stayed ahead to make way for them in between the storm of people. They were all screaming something over one another, making it hard to understand. Haz and Y/N had their heads down, trying to hide the stained cheeks from the blinding lights. Haz clutched Y/N’s hand protectively, out of habit.

They made their way inside the car, parked not so far away from the pub.

“You can stay with me tonight, you’re leaving for New York tomorrow morning anyway”, Y/N said looking outside the window.

“It's fine Y/N, I can get a hotel room”

“No, I insist”, her eyes focused on the lamp heads passing them by.

“Okay, I’ll take the couch”

“You can sleep on the bed, with me”

Haz found Y/N’s hand in the dark backseat and squeezed it affectionately.

That night was the last time they slept together in the same bed. When Y/N woke up the next morning, he was already gone. He left a note on the refrigerator that read, ‘thank you for everything’. A bittersweet smile took over her face.

Y/N needed some time to herself, but she also needed to inform people about her decision. She craft an email to her manager, agent and her lawyer. All of them were sent the exact same email.

Harrison and I have decided to end our marriage. I would like to file for divorce as soon as possible, and the process should be civil. I will be unavailable for a few days, so do what you have to with the news.

Y/N

She also sent her parents that email but as a text on the family group chat.

It’s short and to the point, let’s hope they don’t call me with a million questions.

When it came to Tom, she noticed that he had sent her an image a few seconds ago. It was a screenshot of a TMZ article. The headline was, ‘Y/N left her movie premiere early to meet her husband’, it wasn’t jarring but the photo underneath the headline was. Haz was holding Y/N’s hand as tightly he physically could, both of their bodies looked tired and Y/N’s makeup was all messed up. She hadn’t noticed any of that in the moment, last night.

Tom sent her another text.

Tom: Are you ok?

Y/N: not really, I’m filing for divorce

Tom: oh, do you want me to come over?

Y/N: I think I want some time to myself right now

Y/N: I’ll probably watch Gilmore girls the whole weekend

Tom: ok, I’m here if you need anything

Tom: love you

Y/N: you too

---

On Monday, the news broke. The whole world now knew that their marriage was over. The news outlets tried their best to be creative with headlines.

‘Their kingdom has come and gone: Harrison and Y/N file for divorce’

‘Harrison and Y/N, Hollywood’s perfect couple not so perfect anymore’

These were some of the most impressive ones according to Y/N’s management team but they decided to keep it to themselves. No one had heard from Y/N since Saturday. Even though she had told them that she would be unavailable, they still sent emails, warning her to stay off social media sites, especially twitter, the creator of hate wagons.

Twitter was not kind to her at all. Their divorce was trending in the entertainment section. Many people thought that it was their right to comment on this situation. They had a lot to say, mostly about Y/N.

Y/N would often find herself diving into the rabbit hole of her trending tag. She would read almost everything they had to say about her, the good and the bad, but the bad overwhelmed the good.

‘She was only in it to get famous’

‘She ugly if I was Harrison then I would drop that ass too’

‘She is so fake’

‘Harrison is better off without her’

‘She was def cheating on him’

‘Why would someone even love Y/N’

She didn’t notice, but this was getting to her. She would constantly stare at her reflection, picking her appearance apart because someone on the internet called her ugly. Y/N would rethink everything she ever said in front of the media wondering whether she sounded fake or not. She would wake in the middle of the night, pacing like a ghost, thinking she didn’t deserve Tom at all and that he would realise soon enough.

All would be lost.

Even though she thought no one noticed that she was slowly losing her mind, Tom did. He would look at her touching her face, getting lost in deep thoughts. He could feel her tossing and turning in the bed, every night. He would look through her while she’s looking through her phone. Her leg would never stop fidgeting while at rest. He noticed everything.

He took it upon himself to save her from the demons. It was late evening, Tom picked Y/N up from the set. The whole ride home, Y/N was on her phone, mindlessly scrolling through her twitter, reading every inch and every corner. No words could escape her.

When they reached home Y/N informed Tom that she was going to take a shower. Tom was in the kitchen getting the food ready, when he saw Y/N’s phone unattended on the kitchen island. He was tempted to go through with his plan.

He picked up her phone and unlocked it, he knew her password. He went on deleting every social media app from her phone and also changed his contact DP on her phone. Earlier it was an embarrassing childhood photo, he changed it to a scanned Polaroid photo of them together.

Y/N came out with a towel tied up her head. She grabbed two plates from the cabinet and set them on the island.

“What are you making?” she asks him.

“Rice paper rolls”

“So we’re having Vietnamese today, interesting”, she grabbed her phone to check her Instagram.

Where the fuck are all my apps?

“I think my phone has some defect, the Instagram and twitter apps got deleted”, Y/N says vigorously swiping through her phone.

“That’s not a defect I did that”, Tom served the dinner.

“You did what? You have no right to go through my phone and delete apps without my permission, Tom.”

“It’s for your own good, all of that shit was getting to your head”, he said calmly.

“No it wasn’t” she poorly defended herself.

“Yes it was, you were letting some random divs tell you what you are worth. That’s fucked up, babe”

She lets out a loud grunt, filled with frustration.

They both ate in silence, only the crunch of vegetables audible.

After Tom was done with his dinner, he got up, placed his dish in the sink, picked up his coat from the sofa and walked towards the door. Y/N’s eyes never stopped following his figure.

“I think I should go back to my apartment”, before Y/N could reply, Tom was out of the door.

They didn’t talk for a day but Y/N realised how peaceful she felt without having other people’s opinions being fed to her constantly. She felt less insecure about her body, her personality and especially Tom.

He loves me so much that he was ready to invade my privacy to help me.

She decides to call Tom, noticing the unfamiliar photo on his contact. The phone rung, he picked it up on the second ring.

“You little shit changed your photo, huh” her smile was audible.

“I did and I’m sorry”

“No, I’m sorry. You were right, I do feel better with all the noise gone, but you know what would make me feel much better, you, here with me”

---

Tom came over almost instantly, it was like he was already halfway to her apartment when she called. They were on the couch, watching a movie on Y/N’s laptop. Y/N had her head on Tom’s lap and he was playing with her hair.

Holding her breath, Y/N slowly said, “You didn’t need to save me, you know”

“I know”, he replies nonchalantly.

“But the real question is, would you run away with me?”

“Of course, where to darling?”

“Somewhere no one can find us and it’s only the two of us”, she scrunches her face.

“Do you remember the first time we kissed, at the pub?”

“Yeah”, she replied, fondly remembering that moment.

“You said we should go to Ireland together and I said don’t make empty promises”

“Well, do you want to run away to Ireland with me?”

“Yes”, he bent downwards and kissed her softly.

THE END

@mysticapples17 @storybookholland @flqwsome @hollandstanevans

#tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland imagine #tom holland x actress!reader #tom holland smut #tom holland fluff #tom holland x you #tom holland x y/n #tom holland self insert #harrison osterfeild x reader #harrison osterfield #harrison osterfield x you #marvel #marvel fanfiction #taylor swift

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speechlessxx · 5 years ago

Text

Requite (Andy Barber x Reader)

Summary: A visitation to a prison invites new emotions.

Warnings: slight CHEATING (it’s a kiss and like feelings), slight SPOILERS, for Defending Jacob, language, implied AGE GAP, this was just a brainstorm I had, unrequited requited love kinda not really (if that makes sense), mentions of ABUSE

Word Count: 2.5k

Hope you enjoy!

READ PART 2 HERE

It wasn’t your place – and you knew that. So, why were you here – trembling in front of a glass barrier and fumbling with the cord of the telephone in your hands?

The man in front of you looked tired and rugged. The years he spent behind bars evident all over his face. But when you looked in this murderer’s eyes, you couldn’t help but see Andy’s. They were the same pristine blue shade. The only difference was that Andy’s were warm, inviting, and full of light whereas the man in front of you looked as if the light had been snuffed out of him – perhaps it was never there to begin with.

“You’re the wife?” He asked. He looked you up and down and cocked an eyebrow up. “You’re younger than I expected.”

“I’m not his wife,” you muttered.

“So, what are you, then?” The man gave you an amused look. He was taunting you, trying to make you snap. Your eyes narrowed at his words.

“That’s not your concern.”

“Then why are you here, honey?” You cringed at the pet name. You remembered your abusive father coo that very word at you to apologize for laying his hands on you. You remembered your husband do the same.

Why were you there?

Andy was your friend… of kinds. He was a neighbor in your picture-perfect suburban neighborhood. However, you were treated like an outcast among the other suburban ladies. You always attended parties and gatherings with, or without, your husband. And in the crowds, you always felt so alone.

You were young – still in your twenties – and married to a wealthy businessman that was old enough to be your father’s younger brother. You pretended you couldn’t hear the gossip – the whispers and snickers calling you a “gold-digger” or a “trophy wife”. You married because you needed financial stability to pay off your student loans. You couldn’t do it on your salary alone. Afraid no one else would love you or help you, you said yes to the first wealthy sleaze that got down on one knee.

You tried to make your marriage as picture-perfect as your neighborhood. To strangers, it was. You were good at framing. Your framework made it impossible for others to see the truth behind the photos.

You were a doting wife to a man who was always gone on “business trips” to Vegas with a barely legal bottle blonde on his arm. When you finally got the courage to call him out for his numerous affairs, he threw one of his foreign beer bottles at you. It smashed against the wall, beer staining the paint and scratching it up as small shards of the glass cut your skin. It followed with a “honey, I’m so sorry” which reminded you of your father’s abuse.

After then, the incidents gradually got worse. He’d hurl things your way when he grew aggravated with you. Then, he began to throw punches. He held you down by your wrists before when you threatened to walk out. You felt like your adolescent self again. Instead of your father beating you, your abuser became your husband.

It was Andy, your next-door neighbor, who first asked you about the finger-shaped bruises wrapped around your wrists. You played it off, calling yourself a klutz, but Andy saw right through it. When the bruises, marks, and cuts became a staple of your appearance, Andy knew something was wrong. You weren’t clumsy. You were being hurt.

He confronted you about it. He was relentless in trying to get an answer from you. One night he heard crashes and screams from your home. He rushed over although Laurie had told him to stay out of it and call the police instead. He reasoned that if you were in danger and something were to have happened to you, he’d feel responsible. He found you crying in your living room, picture frames smashed and your coffee table demolished, a dining room chair was lodged into it. You had a bruise forming on your temple, a bloody cut on your cheekbone, and you were cradling your arm to your chest. Your husband had driven off in his luxury car. Whatever doubt he had about the abuse vanished. The scene itself answered all his questions.

It was Andy who saved you from the dangerous home. It was Andy who helped you with your divorce.

After your divorce, your husband took off, leaving you the house and alimony checks. As your injuries slowly healed, you slowly built a relationship with the Barber family – primarily Andy. He’d often check in on you and invite you over, trying to make that big house of yours feel less lonely.

“I’m here for Andy,” you finally answered. You stared into the man’s eyes.

“Oh?” The man sneered. His teeth were yellow, maybe even rotting. He smirked at you. “You’re here about his boy.”

“Jacob’s a good a kid,” you nodded. You babysat and often drove the Barbers’ son to and from school when Andy asked. Aside from his standoffish and strange behavior (one time you swerved around a dead cat and Jacob seemed so fixated on the animal), he was a good kid.

“So, I’ve heard… But good kids don’t become murder suspects.”

“He’s innocent until proven guilty,” you frowned. “Why won’t you do it? Andy just wants you to swab your mouth. It’s easy. Hell, you don’t even have to do it, the guard will.” He crossed his arms and leaned forward to the glass. His stare was unwavering and cold – just like your father’s… just like your husband’s. “You want to punish Andy.”

“He won’t help me and he knows he can. He doesn’t even acknowledge the fact that I’m his father.”

“You haven’t given him a good reason to,” you snapped. “Andy’s a good man. A better man than most will ever be. And he’s a damn good father. He wouldn’t even have come down here if it weren’t for Jacob.”

“You talk like you’re in love with the man.” He smirked. He leaned back on his chair as he studied you. “You are, aren’t you?”

“That’s not your concern.”

He laughed. It boomed and made you flinch. You looked down at your hands. You weren’t trembling anymore. In fact, you were just frustrated. How can a kind, compassionate man like Andy be the spawn of this heartless killer?

“What kind of a good man turns his back on his own father,” the man asked.

“He turned his back on a murderer.”

“And you don’t think he won’t do the same to his son?”

“Jacob’s innocent until proven guilty,” you repeated. “What will it take to get you to do it?” He smirked at you and you felt a wave of disgust as you remembered the reason he was here in the first place. “Not like that, you sicko.”

“I’ll do it,” he nodded.

“What?” You stared at him in disbelief. He repeated the three words. You frowned at him. “Just a second ago – “

“It’s good Andy has someone on his side. Arguing for him. Defending him and his son.” He smiled, wickedly. “Too bad you aren’t the wife, huh? How is his wife? Laurie, is it?”

“I’m not as close to her as I am to Andy,” you admitted.

“I wonder why you two are so close that you’re willing to drive up here to talk to me.” The man gave you a knowing look.

“It’s not like that!”

“Okay, okay, calm down, honey,” he chuckled.

“You’re not fucking with me? You’re actually going to do it?”

“I will,” he nodded. “You got a spark in you, honey… It’s a shame you aren’t the wife. I’ll do it for my son.”

“Thank you for your time, Mr. Barber,” you muttered and popped the telephone back onto its stand. There was no reason to stick around and hear his taunts.

You did what you came there to do.

-=+=-

Andy was relieved and a bit confused. Joanna had informed him that his father agreed to the swab. After the brief conversation that the father and son had, his father had made it clear that he wanted nothing to do with the trial – that he didn’t want to help Jacob. So, what made him change his mind?

He remembered talking to you about it. You were the first person he saw on his way back from seeing his father. He unloaded his frustrations on you, and you sat and listened to him. It reminded you of the times when you would confide in Andy about the abuse you endured from your father and your husband. It was the least you could do.

“Go inside. Tell your mom about the fish,” Andy told Jacob as the two began to unload the car. His son nodded and began to make his way to their front door. With a frown, Jacob looked over and saw his dad hastily walk towards your home. He shrugged before going inside.

Andy walked past the “For Sale” sign posted outside your lawn next to your mailbox. He frowned at the sign. When did you plan on leaving?

He knocked on your front door a few times and even rung the doorbell. He stood outside for a few long moments and just as he sighed and turned to leave, you opened the door.

“Sorry!” You apologized. Your hair was tied up and your forehead had a sheen of sweat.

“No worries… Mind if I come in?”

You widened the door and gestured for Andy to come inside. He gave you a small smile and a nod as he stepped through the door. The walls weren’t as decorated as he remembered. You must’ve taken down the picture frames. It made sense. Your husband was out of your life. Why keep the memories around? The hardwood floors were littered with boxes. Some were taped shut and had words scribbled on their sides – “kitchen”, “bedroom”, “donations”, etc.

“Sorry about the mess,” you muttered when you noticed that he was looking around the house.

“It’s not a problem, (Y/N), really,” Andy grinned.

“What can I do for you, Andy?”

“I think you’ve done enough.”

“What?” You frowned.

“You spoke to my father?” He asked. His tone was angry – or at least you registered it as so. Your eyes widened as you desperately looked around the room – staring at anything but Andy’s eyes. You crossed your arms as you tried to pull into yourself. It was a reaction you had when your husband raised his voice at you, an indicator that his patience was wearing thin and you were going to need an ice pack later. Andy’s brows furrowed in realization – you often held that posture whenever you spoke of your husband’s abuse. “I’m sorry… I’m not upset or anything, (Y/N). I just wanted to know why…”

You relaxed your arms as you found the courage to look at Andy. They did have the same eyes. “For you… and for Jacob,” you rushed. “I know it wasn’t my place, but you were so upset about it… I figured I could… I could give it a shot? Maybe talk some sense into him or convince him? I dunno… You helped me when I was in a tough spot, I thought I should at least try to return the favor.”

“You didn’t need to,” Andy shook his head. “But thank you.” You smiled at him and nodded. “No, really, thank you,” Andy sighed. To your surprise – and maybe even his – he wrapped his arms around you. You felt your cheeks flush as your ear was pressed against his chest. Andy’s chin rested at the top of your head.

You two stayed like that for a few minutes – it felt like eternity. You had forgotten what it felt like to be held, to be cared for, and appreciated. Perhaps Andy was the first man in your life that made you feel safe and you were grateful. Maybe that’s where your crush stemmed from. Andy was a kind man and an amazing father – things that were missing from your own life.

In turn, Andy had forgotten how it felt to hold someone. His and Laurie’s intimacy had been challenged for years now and their marriage took another hit with Jacob’s upcoming trial. He remembered how much he wanted to help you and get you out of your abusive marriage. It was a distraction from his own marriage that was slowly falling apart.

“You’re moving?” Andy asked after the long beats of silence.

“Yeah,” you said. “Nothing’s really keeping me in town anymore.”

Andy felt a pang in his chest. Nothing keeping you in town? Sure, your divorce was finalized – your husband had skipped town when his abuse came to light – but nothing was worth sticking around for?

“What about me?” Andy asked. It was wishful thinking, at best. Andy didn’t know why he asked the question. He had no justification for his next action either.

When you looked up at him with confusion, you had the intentions of asking him what he meant. But Andy leaned in and kissed you. His eyes were closed as his lips pressed against yours while yours were wide open with shock. But the kiss was sweet, gentle – you don’t remember being kissed like this. With your hands pressed against his chest, you meant to push him off and pull away, but your body refused – it loved the affection even if it was just an in-the-moment action on Andy’s behalf (he wasn’t sure if it was), but the kiss was nice.

Instead, your eyes fluttered closed and your hands went up to his cheeks. His beard was rough against your lips and hands, but you didn’t mind. You began to kiss him back, allowing yourself to get lost in the moment.

Then your brain and your conscience flared up. Just as sudden as the kiss began, it was abruptly cut short. Your mind made you pull away and with wide eyes, both you and Andy unwrapped yourselves from each other.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, taking a step back.

“No, no,” Andy shook his head. “I’m sorry… I shouldn’t have – “

“It was nothing, okay?”

Andy was taken back from your words. He wanted to argue – to tell you that it wasn’t nothing, that he felt something, and he was sure you felt it, too. But he stopped himself. He wasn’t thinking straight. The stress – whether it from his marriage or from the trial on the horizon, he didn’t know – was getting to him.

“Okay,” he finally agreed. “Nothing.”

“Okay,” you muttered. Arms crossing again. Your eyes darted around the room as you licked your lips. You could still taste him. “Well, um… you better get going.”

“Right,” Andy nodded. You walked him to the door and gave him a tight smile. “If you need any help with the moving or the packing, I’ll be happy to help. Repay the favor for the thing with my dad.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. Thanks, Andy,” you tried to smile. You closed the door after your farewells and a hand flew to cover your mouth. Tears brimming in your eyes.

You weren’t going to take him up on that offer. The guilt was already killing you. Although abuse was a major factor in your marriage’s demise, your husband cheating with much other women was the spark that started it all.

Now, here you were. You were the other woman.

READ PART 2 HERE

#andy barber imagine #andy barber #andy barber x reader #chris evans x reader #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers x reader #chris evans #chris evans imagine #Requite #defending jacob #defending jacob imagine

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365days365movies · 4 years ago

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February 24, 2021: Annie Hall (1977) (Part 1)

Well...Woody Allen.

I, uh...OK, look, I could get into the whole Woody Allen thing, but INSTEAD of me doing that, I’ll just say this: look into it. Because there is a LOT on this subject, and it’s controversial as HELL. At the end of the day, I’ll recommend this upcoming series on HBO, and just recommend that you look into it.

Because, uh...yeah, it’s not great. That’s all I’m gonna say, because I need to educate myself on it more as well. Instead, let’s talk for a few seconds about divorcing the art from the artist. But ONLY for a few seconds.

I understand why some of you might be surprised I’m doing this one. Because, again...Woody Allen. But, yeah, I always try to do my best to divorce the art from the artist. Because some people suck, but they still make nice things, or at the very least, things that should be open to interpretation and appreciation.

“Superfreak” is a classic song of 1981, and everybody’s heard at least some of it, but Rick James fuckin’ kidnapped two women and kept them in his basement, WHERE HE TORTURED THEM. Edgar Degas made beautiful paintings of ballet dancers, and was also A MASSIVE ANTI-SEMITE. And before he was (RIGHTFULLY AND JUSTIFIABLY) outed as a roofie-ing piece-o-shit...I grew up with - and genuinely enjoyed - this guy’s comedy.

And you can judge me for this, but...I still think his stand-up was and is genuinely funny, and I still appreciate the cultural impact that The Cosby Show had on society’s perception of African-American families, divorced from the stereotype of the ghetto. Fact of the matter is, works themselves deserve to be separated from the artist who made them. That’s my philosophy, and I’m sticking with it Entirely fine to disagree with me, by the way, I get it.

But in that spirit, I’m watching Annie Hall, despite its creators likely transgressions. After all, this is technically his magnum opus, and it’s a good look into the man himself. And so, with that in mind: Annie Hall! SPOILERS AHEAD!!!

Recap (1/2)

youtube

Alvy Singer (Woody Allen) is talking directly to us about his outlook on life, and his view on the potential future. He tells half of a joke, then an amusing anecdote, and a bit more until telling us that he’s broke up with Annie, and he’s still thinking about it, trying to figure out exactly where things went wrong. He goes back to the beginning, which is punctuated with flashbacks.

He grew up in Brooklyn in World War II, and a young Alvy (Jonathan Munk) is with his mother (Joan Newman) at the doctor’s. He’s depressed after learning that the universe will one day end after a period of expansion, and is having his first real existential crisis. I had mine around the same age, actually, went I learned that the Earth will one day get swallowed by the sun. And THEN came the realization that I’d be dead by that point. AND THEN came the realization that I’d die one day, and that was a WHOLE NEW crisis to...anyway.

He grew up under the Coney Island rollercoaster according to him (although his analyst says that he exaggerates), and that’s what he blames for his “nervous personality. He’s also got an active imagination, often blurring fantasy and reality. His Dad ran the bumper cars on Coney Island (a place that I’ve never been, but desperately want to go).

He continues on talking about his former schoolmates, and not really that well. While in class, young Alvy kisses a...little girl...ahem. And then, when reprimanded by the teacher, current Alvy notes that he was always...like that...and he also says this to the little girl, and they talk about Freud’s latency period, and Alvy said he never...had...one...that’s uh...that’s fuckin’ SOMETHING, now isn’t it?

OK, well, shoving that forcefully aside as hard as I can, Alvy wonders aloud on where his classmates now, and one of them says this:

This also involves a little girl saying she’s “into leather,” which is...awkward as FUCK, but WE’RE GONNA MOVE THE FUCK ON. Alvy recounts his paranoia, and was so even after he became a famous comedian (which we say after a VERY good joke about qualifying for the army as a hostage). He speaks to a friend, Rob (Tony Roberts) about potential anti-Semitism from a person in a passersby meeting, then heads to meet Annie.

Annie Hall (Diane Keaton) arrives at a movie theater, late and in a bad mood. The two are late to their intended film, argue briefly, then head to another film that they’ve already seen, The Sorrow and the Pity. In line, they’re in front of a man loudly soliloquizing on film, much to Alvy’s annoyance.

Annie and Alvy continue to argue a bit, while Alvy openly berates the casual film critic. In the middle, he talks to the audience about it, only to be followed by the crtiic himself, who also acknowledges the audience! Huh! Anyway, he’s a professor at Columbia, and starts continuing his line speech, this time on the work of Marshall McLuhan, one of the most important early media theorists ever. And then, Alvy brings out Marshall McLuhan (Marshall McLuhan) to debate him on it, only for Alvy to turn to the audience and wish aloud that life could really be like this!

I’m beginning to understand why people like this film. It’s metacontextual before metacontextuality was really a thing in film. It’s a fourth-wall breaking movie in some fantastic ways. But will it still hold its muster after breaking the fourth wall’s become so commonplace? we’ll see, I guess.

After a showing of the film, the two return home, and Alvy tries to initiate sex. But Annie’s not really into it at the moment, and Alvy complains that they used to have sex all the time, and it’s been a while since. So, I guess that retroactively awkward scene at the school was meant to foreshadow Alvy’s high libido, that will probably cause some conflict in the film. Anyway, Annie notes that Alvy once went through something similar with Allison, his first wife. Who’s Allison? Flashback!

Allison Portchnik (Carol Kane) is a graduate student in political science, working for a campaign that Alvy’s about to perform for. He’s nervous, as he’s going on after another comedian. She comforts him by saying that she thought he was cute, and he does well. But we flash-forward to a night after they’re married, shortly after the death of JFK, which Alvy’s obsessing over, entertaining various conspiracy theories.

However, Allison rightly points out that his obsession is simply a way for him to avoid having sex with her, which mirrors the present-day situation him him and Annie. Flash forward TO Alvy and Annie, and there are just lobsters...everywhere, on the floor in their kitchen. After that commotion, they talk about Annie’s past romances.

And by talk about, I mean they LITERALLY WALK THROUGH her memories. And I gotta say...I fuckin’ love this method of storytelling. One of her previous boyfriends is an actor (John Glover), and his over-dramatic prose sickens Alvy. We see a second marriage of Alvy’s to New Yorker writer Robin (Janet Margolin), who’s dragged him to a stuffy high society party of intellectuals that he has no interest in going to. Same her, Alvy. I bet the caviar’s canned.

He tries to initiate sex with her - in the middle of the party, mind you - and she turns him down. later, when they get to it in their apartment, she’s unable to, uh...reach satisfaction. From there, we flash-forward after that marriage ends to a tennis match with Rob, where he meets one of his mutual friends: Annie Hall.

And for the record, Annie’s pretty obviously got a crush on him, and she’s adorable as fuck. Also, that outfit, real talk...that outfit rules. She offers to give Alvy a list, during which he’s quite worried about her driving, but the two still get along well enough. Annie’s an amateur photographer, during a time period where photography is considered a relatively new art form. The two go to her apartment, and share familial anecdotes and personal stories about themselves. And as they talk, we also see a set of subtitles on top of each of them that betray their inner feelings and thoughts.

I do genuinely like the stylings of the movie, goddamn. This conversation leads to Alvy asking her out on a date, although they end up scheduling it after Annie auditions at a nightclub as a singer. And while it doesn’t go great, Alvy tells her she was fantastic, and they share a kiss before they head to dinner. They head to her place afterwards, and we cut to later that night, post-coitus.

And then, we get a flash-forward back to the next day, where the two are at a bookstore, and Alvy speaks on his personal philosophy of life.

I'm obsessed with uh, with death, I think. Big - big subject with me, yeah. I have a very pessimistic view of life. You should know this about me if we're gonna go out. You know, I - I feel that life is - is divided up into the horrible and the miserable. Those are the two categories, you know. The - the horrible would be like, um, I don't know, terminal cases, you know, and blind people, crippled. I don't know how they get through life. It's amazing to me. You know, and the miserable is everyone else. That's - that's - so - so - when you go through life - you should be thankful that you're miserable because you're very lucky to be miserable.

Iiiiinteresting.

Shortly into their relationship, they admit they’re in love (or “lurve”, as Alvy says). She moves in with Alvy, which he initially isn’t the biggest fan of, having been burned in two previous marriages And already, their relationship is showing a few bumps. Alvy’s also always trying to push her to take college classes, while she uses mariuana whenever they have sex, which Alvy doesn’t agree with.

But as they have sex one night, without the marijuana at Alvy’s urging, Annie’s mind wanders - LITERALLY.

This film...this film has a VERY unique style of visual storytelling, and I am HERE for it! Seriously, I genuinely love this method of storytelling and comedy, it’s extremely engaging to me.

Soon enough, Alvy gets an interview to write for a talk show host, which he ABSOLUTELY despises. But in doing so, he decides to go into stand-up for himself, and is actually quite successful at it! But before we get to that, we’re at the halfway point! See you in Part 2!

#annie hall #woody allen #diane keaton #tony roberts #carol kane #paul simon #shelley duvall #christopher walken #romance february #romance movie #romcom #romantic comedy #user365 #365 movie challenge #365 movies 365 days #365 Days 365 Movies #365 movies a year

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astoriias · 5 years ago

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{ cisgender woman, she/her } ❝ Thank god women learned to whisper / though I crave a megaphone. ❞ huh, who’s CAITRIONA BALFE? no, you’re mistaken, that’s actually ASTORIA MALFOY (NEÉ GREENGRASS). she is a 47 year old PUREBLOOD witch who is CHIEF WARLOCK OF THE WIZENGAMOT. she is known for being JUDGEMENTAL, DISHONEST, COLD, RIGID, and CALLOUS but also PRACTICAL, DRIVEN, INNOVATIVE, STEADFAST and DISCIPLINED, so that must be why she always reminds me of the song TOMORROW - MINER and BLACK LEATHER BRIEFCASES, THE CLICK OF HIGH HEELS ON TILE FLOORS, THE LINGERING TASTE OF FAIRY FLOSS, BURGUNDY NAIL POLISH, AND PEARL HAIR PINS. i hear she is aligned with NO ONE so be sure to keep an eye on her.

BIO

Cursed with a blood malediction that left her and her parents preoccupied with maintaining her health throughout early childhood, Astoria grew up without direction, without passion, and without much to do or think about other than staying alive. She did what she was told and completed what was asked of her by her parents: mostly swallowing thick potions that made her head spin and remaining in bed when all she wanted to do was tumble through the lush gardens of the Greengrass estate and scrape her knees like other children. As she grew older and defied Healers’ expectations — making it past 5, then 10, then 15 — Astoria grew weary of the half-life she’d been prescribed. At Hogwarts, she followed her sister Daphne into Slytherin because she didn’t know where else to go.

It took Astoria almost a year at Hogwarts before she would speak up in class or acknowledge anyone with more than a handful of words — and each time she did her heartbeat would quicken, her face would flush. If she was called on by a professor and — Merlin forbid — got the answer wrong, her eyes would fill with tears, her gaze would shift to the floor, and she wouldn’t be able to breathe. One day, outside her second-year Transfiguration class, an annoying boy named Colin saw her heavy breathing and told her about panic attacks — Astoria’s irrational fear of social situations and new people now made sense.

That same annoying boy became her close friend not long after. It was a month into study sessions by the Black Lake that Astoria Greengrass learned that her Colin, the boy who kept a camera slung around his neck at all times and was so nice to her, was Colin Creevey, yes, that Colin Creevey, who was petrified by a Basilisk a year prior for being MUGGLEBORN. Astoria found that didn’t bother her very much. Sure, she never advertised that they were friends and didn’t freely associate with Colin in public places, but he understood her position or in the very least, didn’t protest it. She even got him to join Herbology club — though she insisted that they enter and exit the greenhouse at different times and never spoke directly, his presence was a comforting balm.

Colin tried to get her to join up with the student resistance that was brewing in her third year — but Astoria knew she wasn’t the type to stir up such trouble. She couldn’t stand with the muggleborns and blood traitors no matter how right they were; she couldn’t risk losing her family. Unlike those in Dumbledore’s Army, Astoria didn’t see this conflict in terms of black and white, good vs. evil — there were plenty of others like her, struggling to find themselves in the midst of conflict, battling tradition and family expectations. She kept out of Umbridge’s way during that time. Kept out of her father’s way during that time — while he had no Dark Mark to speak of, his entrepreneurial hands passed cursed objects and ingredients for poisons to any Dark Lord-aligned wix who wanted them.

Through her friendship with Colin and her time in Herbology Club, Astoria learned she was a talented witch in her own right. Formed an identity outside of being the sick girl everyone doted on. Quietly realized that her muggleborn classmates — despite what her pureblood indoctrination taught her — were fully-fledged human beings. To someone who didn’t grow up feeling trapped in the (sometimes socially constructed) confines of a blood illness, perhaps her time in Herbology Club wouldn’t seem so transformative. But for Astoria, it was everything.

Nowadays, Astoria is still defying life expectancy estimations and is perhaps best known for her robust political career. She joined the Ministry as a pupil/intern in its Wizengamot Instruction in Magical Law Program (W.I.M.P.), and in the span of twenty-five years has climbed the ranks to barrister’s assistant, barrister, then Wizengamot member, and finally, the youngest Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot in the last hundred years. She is extremely opinionated about the runnings of the legislature and judiciary, and her past two years as Chief Warlock have been marked by her love for procedure, due process, and fairness -- essentially meaning trials are very thorough and very focused on making sure the Ministry doesn’t overstep its bounds.

BLOOD MALEDICTION

i’m truly on my bullshit and this needs its own section..........,,,,, i’m sorry

I originally started writing Astoria out of pure spite — it enraged and continues to enrage me that all we’re given about this woman is a few lines about her and an off-page (or off-stage, I guess, but Cursed Child is its own beast) death. It makes me mad that she is only defined by her role as a mother and wife to Scorpius and Draco, that she doesn’t get her own ambitions and a life of her own. The racist and sexist underpinnings of the blood malediction/Maledictus concept are par the course for JK but still, bad!

And while I can’t choose for Astoria to have this particular chronic illness and completely divorce it from those origins, I can at least eschew parts of it I don’t like and give a Astoria a rich and fulfilling life with a chronic/potentially terminal illness — not in spite of the blood curse, but because those of us with illnesses and disabilities are people with rich and fulfilling lives, wants, desires, and ambitions.

AN IMPORTANT NOTE: I try to be really careful about ableist language when I describe this blood malediction and its effects on Astoria’s life — I think that there is so much to explore regarding chronic illness and what, exactly, we constitute as ‘health’ — but I know that I can fall into the traps of my own internalized ableism. If there are terms or concepts here that make players uncomfortable and/or have harmful effects, let me know! I’m happy to make changes.

So anyway!

— origins of the blood malediction

I don’t have this fully worked out, but I think the Greengrass blood malediction stretches back a good ten generations to a very vindictive-in-her-righteous-cause-Muggleborn-witch cursing the family for their refusal to let her marry their son. It’s not limited to just the girls in the family, because I hate that, but it does affect at least one child per generation, so long as the family continues to marry exclusively purebloods — which they have continued to do, not knowing that their bigotry (though in some cases, real love!) is the reason for the curse’s spread. Astoria’s parents mistakenly believed that since the last few cases of the curse had cropped up in different branches of the Greengrass family — distant cousins living on the Continent — that their children would be spared.

— astoria’s symptoms and treatment

Since it’s a blood curse, I figure Astoria’s symptoms manifest as issues both with her blood and with her cardiovascular system at large. I’d compare it to haemophilia. Her blood itself is thin and cannot clot without healing spells and thickening potions, meaning that nosebleeds are frequent, bruising is easy, and bad cuts can be fatal. She’s at high risk for internal bleeding in her joints, and a big — though often unvoiced fear — of hers is a brain aneurysm that ruptures into a haemorrhage.

(miscarriage tw) These symptoms have waxed and waned her entire life, with particular incidents that have brought her close to death; an accident falling from the garden wall at five, a wayward spell hitting her across the face in second-year DADA, trying for a child. She doesn’t regret that last one — not at all — though it was five weeks after her miscarriage before she was able to stand unassisted, and her Healer’s face when she said “I strongly advise you to not have any more children” haunts her to this day. Scorpius’s birth, possible due to a wonderful surrogate, was alternatively the happiest day of her life. (end miscarriage tw)

Then there come the potions — a barrage of them, to be taken at specific times of day, with extras if she’s bleeding externally or feeling pain in particular areas — that come with side effects like exhaustion, headaches, and nausea. She visits St. Mungo’s once every three months to ensure that the potions are working as intended and has learned to accept her Healers chastising her for the times she skips parts of the regimen or pushes herself too far physically.

PERSONALITY

astoria!!! my love. clearly i have a lot of thoughts and Feelings about her lol,,,,,,,

there isn’t any world or timeline in which astoria would be rushing to join the death eaters -- lol, i’ve always envisioned her being extremely inquisitive and Critical of other people, their motivations, their methods -- this makes her extremely Good at Lawyering and Suspicious of Bullshit. i also have always thought that it was important for her to make a muggleborn friend or two just to really hammer the point home that pureblood nonsense is just that.

still, again, she’s not really motivated by niceness, she doesn’t have a bleeding-heart-sense-of-empathy, she’s kind of snarky and mean. her friends describe her as an acquired taste.

has a massive sweet tooth. her family is regularly concerned she does not eat enough vegetables.

adores her son. just, absolutely thinks he can do no wrong. she and draco agree that most parents think their child is the most perfect and amazing child in the world, but scorpius actually is the most perfect and amazing child in the world, so.

a note on astoria and draco: i think draco doesn’t treat her with pity or kid gloves, and has never underestimated her capacity to get shit done in light of her blood curse. and they have an honesty and rapport with each other that astoria hasn’t been able to cultivate with anyone else. they may not be very great people but they’re great partners and great parents. i luv them ok bye

STATS

GENERAL

name. astoria céline malfoy (née greengrass)

nickname. aster (reserved for use by her sister only!)

birthdate. 1 january 1982

place of birth. greengrass residence via midwifery

family. daphne greengrass (sister), draco malfoy (husband), scorpius malfoy (son)

residence. malfoy manor, wiltshire

occupation. chief warlock of the wizengamot

gender identity. woman

romantic orientation. biromantic

sexuality. bisexual

blood status. pureblood

relationship status. married

pets. a scottish terrier named hades

HOGWARTS / MAGIC

house. slytherin

extracurriculars/leadership. herbology club

allegiance. neutral/no one

n.e.w.t. grades charms (o), transfiguration (o), herbology (o), d.a.d.a (a), potions (a), arithmancy, astronomy (o), history of magic (a), ancient runes (e).

wand. willow, nine inches, unicorn hair core

boggart. tbd

patronus. also tbd! my brain hurts

magical strengths. nonverbal casting, herbology, transfiguration, ancient runes

magical weaknesses. flying, defensive spells, domestic spells

#potterintro #////this is so long #i regret nothing

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haltandcatchfiretothemax · 5 years ago

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FEMSLASH FEBRUARY 2020 #6: In which Cameron and Donna acknowledge an anniversary

[CN: food mentions; major SPOILERS for s3 and s4 of Halt and Catch Fire]

“Wanna come in anyway?” Cameron had accepted Donna’s invitation. And then she wound up staying at her house for the rest of Fourth of July weekend.

They spent most of that weekend lying next to each other in Donna’s bed, alternating between talking, sleeping, and kissing, and in that order. On Friday afternoon, lying on her side in pajamas Donna had gotten her for Christmas, Cameron had noted, “It’s really weird how little we’ve actually talked.”

Donna grinned at her from her side of the bed, just a few inches away. “Right? We talk all the time, and not just about work, but we’re always so focused on work, we never just get to exist around each other.”

“Yeah, exactly,” Cameron had nodded, “like, we’d sort of start to relax around each other, but then it was always time to get back to work, or to go home, or whatever. Or we’d be busy with some holiday thing or a party. And now…we just get to be. In the same place. And without worrying about it being a date!”

Tucking a strand of hair behind Cameron’s ear, Donna said, “Well, I liked going out with you. But it’s nice just hanging out with you. It’s really nice.”

Cameron wrinkled her nose fussily. “I liked going out with you too. I just hope I get better at it some point.”

Donna snorted. “I think you did okay, but, I take your point.”

They spent the rest of that day in their pajamas, having a long, unstructured conversation, mostly in Donna’s bed, pausing only to order takeout. They spent all of the next day talking too, but they also eventually got dressed and continued their conversation during a long walk, a trip to the diner, and a late evening by Donna’s pool.

And then on Sunday, Cameron was suddenly quiet.

Donna noticed it as soon as she woke up. When she noticed that Cameron was also awake at 9am, she asked her, “Hey, are you alright? Did you sleep okay?”

Staring straight up at Donna’s ceiling, Cameron sighed, “It’s me and Tom’s anniversary today. It would be our ten year anniversary.”

Donna couldn’t read Cameron’s tone. “Oh.” As soon as she said it, it suddenly felt as if all of that had happened yesterday. “That was a really long week at the office, with you missing and all.”

Still not looking at Donna, Cameron said, “I guess it probably seemed like I was missing when you didn’t hear from me. I’m sorry. And I’m also sorry that I didn’t apologize until just now.”

“That’s alright,” Donna inched closer to Cameron’s side of the bed. “I’m really just glad you weren’t missing or lying in a ditch somewhere.”

Cameron rolled her eyes. “You really thought I was a such a mess that I wouldn’t be able to survive a week where I grew up by myself, huh?”

Hesitantly, Donna replied, “Well, you kind of were!”

Cameron smiled glumly over at Donna and gently said, “You didn’t have to act like you knew how much of a mess I was, though.”

Sighing with relief, Donna said, “You’re right, I didn’t. I’m sorry I worried so loudly that it made you feel bad.”

Cameron looked back at the ceiling. Quietly, she admitted, “I was thinking about you when I married Tom.”

Donna’s face suddenly felt warm. She felt that strange, gut-burning anxiety that only seemed to happen when something went terribly wrong with a crush. She hadn’t felt that since she’d had to go out to Cameron’s trailer after getting kicked off Rover. “What do you mean, you were thinking about me?”

“When he said he’d move to California for his wife, I thought, oh, okay, he’s willing to marry me, that works out, if I’m married then I won’t have to be this weird third wheel in Donna’s marriage, and maybe things with her will finally be, like, good, or at least normal.” Sounding very young, Cameron said, “I really just wanted you to love me. I mean, I wanted that from everyone, but, I also really wanted it from you. I wanted you to be proud of me.”

Donna’s anxiety ebbed away, or most of it. “I didn’t know how much my opinion mattered to you. Sometimes I still can’t believe how caught up I was in my own problems, and how many things I didn’t notice about you then.” Taking a deep breath, she said, “I am proud of you. I was proud of you back then, too, I was just too busy worrying about you and fussing at you to say it. You’re amazing, Cameron. And I promise I’m not just saying that because we’ve been on a date for the past three days.”

Cameron nodded. “I know. I knew that before our three day date.”

“Good,” Donna grinned at her.

“I wish I’d known better than to marry Tom?” Cameron said. “I mean, even he knew that I should be with you, and not him?

“Well,” Donna sniffed. “Broken clocks, and all.”

Cameron squinted over at Donna, confused. “Wait, what?”

“Broken clocks? It’s an old expression, even broken clocks are right twice a day.”

Cameron looked at her for a moment, and then said “Ohhhh. Okay no, I get it now.”

Unable to contain herself, Donna giggled affectionately at her, and then closed the gap between them, and kissed Cameron’s cheek.

Smiling tentatively, Cameron looked at Donna, “I’m really glad I’m here. And I’m glad that I’m not married anymore. I think that’s all I was really trying to say, I didn’t mean to be so dramatic about it.”

“I’m really glad you’re here, too,” Donna whispered. “I mean, it took us long enough.”

Suddenly frowning, Cameron asked, “Do you remember what I said to you when I finally got back from Texas? You anchor me.”

“Of course I remember that. I’ll never forget how guilty I felt, and also how confused I felt.” Cameron gave her another puzzled look, and Donna sighed, “I’d wanted that kind of acknowledgement from you for a long time, but it didn’t feel as good as I thought it would. Partly because of my own mistakes, and partly because by that point, it was like, I wanted more, but I just…didn’t know what, exactly.”

“You always anchored me, though,” Cameron blurted out. “Even when you were lying to me, even when I was thousands of miles away, even when I was secretly writing your browser’s algorithm. Even when I was angry at you and never wanted to see you again, and even when I stopped being really angry at you because I was preoccupied with ruining my marriage and getting divorced. You were the first person who ever really saw me.”

“And I don’t feel like that’s some kind of insult, or like it makes me The Mom, anymore,” Donna grinned at her. “I’m happy to anchor you, Cameron. I’m proud to anchor you. I wanna anchor your brains out.”

“‘Anchor my brains out’? Donna Caroline Emerson,” Cameron whisper-exclaimed, “you kiss your mother with that mouth?!” Donna rolled her eyes, and then Cameron said, “That’s okay though, because I totally want you to anchor my brains out. Even though that sounds really violent. Thank you for always anchoring me.”

“Thank you for letting me,” Donna smiled brightly.

#pleased with myself for inadvertently scheduling cam and donna's 2nd date for the weekend of this anniversary!!!#even if i don't feel like this turned out as great as it could have?#it happens though! they won't all be great #femslash february #femslash february 2020 #fic #fan fiction #cameron howe #donna clark #donna emerson

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lifesizehysteria · 6 years ago

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Journey to You - Chapter 12 | An AdamsFoster Fic

A/N: I’m so thrilled to see people giving this fic love! I was really worried about updating after so long but you’ve all been so wonderful! Thanks for the love and support! I hope you enjoy this next chapter! Trigger warning for mild homophobia.

“Knock, knock!” Stef called into the house as she let herself into the kitchen through the sliding door. Today her childhood home felt unfamiliar, like it had the first time she had come over after her mom had moved out. On the surface it had looked the same until she started noticing the missing picture frames, the lack of perfume in the air, the dishes piling up in the sink. This time she was the imposter – same on the surface but different when you looked a closer.

The quiet rumble of little feet came from the hallway beyond the kitchen.

“Mommy!” Brandon bolted around the corner and flung his arms around her legs. Stef hoisted him up so his face was level with hers.

“Hi, baby!” she said before smattering kisses across his face. She didn’t relent until he was squealing with laughter. “How was your night with Grandpa?”

“Awesome! Grampa let me watch five cartoons and eat ice cream. Twice!”

“Whoa-ho! Grandpa sure did spoil you, didn’t he?” Brandon answered with an enthusiastic nod. “Don’t get used to it, bud.”

“I know.” Brandon’s smile drooped a little.

“Hey, Stef.” Frank shuffled into the kitchen, heading toward the fridge.

“Hi, Dad.”

“How was your night?” Frank asked as he pulled a bag of chips from a cabinet, Coke in hand.

Hesitating, unable to meet his eyes, a strained, “Fine,” was all she offered.

“Did you see Daddy?” Brandon asked, his smile brightening back up at the thought.

Stef froze. “Wha– Uh, what… what do you mean?”

“Grampa said I was spending the night so you and Daddy could have ‘lone time’.” The blood drained from Stef’s face.

“He did, did he?” Her voice was sharp, the words pointed like daggers at her father who stood at the counter slurping from the can of Coke.

Brandon nodded. “Uh, huh. Did you see him?” He wriggled with anticipation.

Stef wanted to lie. Squashing this idea now would be so much easier than to let him continue hoping for a reconciliation that wouldn’t happen. That couldn’t happen. She cleared her throat.

“I did, yes,” she answered, despite herself. How could she crush his hopes when she was so painfully familiar with that feeling?

The joy that spread across Brandon’s face tore at her heart. This was exactly what she was trying to avoid and knowing that she was the one who would have to deal with the fallout had her blood boiling. She cleared her throat again and set Brandon down, taking the opportunity to reel in her anger enough to get him out of the room.

“Why don’t you go get your things packed up, okay? I’ll come find you in a minute.”

“Okay!” Brandon took off and as soon as his footfalls faded down the hallway, Stef rounded on her father, her anger allowing her to look him in the eye.

“I cannot believe you.” She moved toward him, dropping her voice to keep out of Brandon’s earshot.

“What?”

Stef scoffed. “You told him that I was seeing Mike after I specifically told you I didn’t want him to know.”

“So, what?”

“You had no right to do that.”

“He’s a kid. He doesn’t understand what’s going on.”

Stef shook her head in disbelief. “Did you see how excited he was? Obviously, he understands enough.” As her anger grew, so did her voice.

“I don’t understand why you’re making this such a big deal.”

“Because it is a big deal, Dad! I don’t want him getting confused. You’ve already got his hopes up and that’s exactly what I was trying to avoid.”

“His hopes should be up. You and Mike are working things out.”

Stef groaned in frustration and scrubbed her hands over her face. “No, we’re not, Dad!”

Frank’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he stared at her. “You’re not?”

Stef sighed and dropped her hands to her sides. “No.”

“Then why’d you go out with him last night?” It was an accusation more than it was a question.

“I…” She paused after realizing she had no answer. Not one she could tell him. Just thinking about it made her palms sweaty so she shoved her hands in her pockets. “I guess… I just wanted to be sure before I made my decision.” She shrugged one shoulder and chewed on her bottom lip. That was close enough to the truth, anyway.

Frank crossed his arms over his chest. “So you’re leaving him? Just like that?”

Stef sighed and bowed her head, eyes closed. What else was there to say? It wasn’t ‘just like that’ but any defense she had to offer would lead to a conversation that she wasn’t ready for.

“I thought I raised you better than that,” Frank muttered, his voice heavy with disappointment.

A deep crease formed between Stef’s brows as she looked back up at him. “What does that mean?”

“It’s bad enough you and Mike have been separated this long.” He shook his head. “It’s not right for people to get divorced while they have kids.”

Shock washed over Stef’s face, her mouth gaping open. “Seriously, Dad? You’re divorced.”

Frank’s tone hardened in defense. “Your mother and I waited until you were an adult before we split up.”

“Yeah and that was a blast for me,” Stef snapped back.

“You know what, do whatever you want.” Frank rolled the bag of chips closed and turned away to take them back to the cupboard. “You will, anyway.”

Stef sighed, her hands thrust out in surrender. “What do you want from me, Dad?”

Frank faced her again. “I want you to do what’s best for your son.”

His words hit like a punch to the gut. “I am doing what’s best for him.”

“No, you’re doing what’s best for you.”

“Sometimes, those are the same thing.”

“You think it’s in his best interest to have his family torn apart?”

“No, Dad. I think it’s in his best interest to have parents who aren’t stuck together, hating and resenting each other, while he blames himself for making us miserable.” Stef’s anger returned with full force. The implication that she wasn’t putting Brandon first was… well, maybe deep down a part of her agreed but that wasn’t what her dad was talking about. He was only talking about divorcing Mike and no matter what else happened, she knew with absolute certainty that she couldn’t be happy with him. Staying with him for Brandon’s sake was the worst thing she could do for her son. She had lived through that misery and would never make Brandon suffer that way.

“How do you know that’s what’ll happen?”

Stef hesitated. “I just do.”

“People go through rough patches all the time.”

Stef started to lose her patience. How many ways did she have to defend herself and her choices? “This isn’t a– a rough patch. Okay? We’re not going to work it out or, or magically fall back in love because I was never in love with him in the first place.” The words were out before she could stop them and she fell silent, her heart pounding in her throat as she tried to figure out a way to backtrack.

“What do you mean?”

“Nothing.” Stef’s eyes flew to the floor, suddenly a child under his scrutinizing gaze.

“Stef.” He grunted her name the same way he did when he would find her sneaking in after curfew and demand an explanation. Her face burned red and sweat beaded on her palms again. God she couldn’t do this. How could she do this? As she stood under the weight of his demanding stare, she realized this is what Lena had meant. If she wanted to prove that she was really in this, this was the work she had to do.

She shoved her hands back into her pockets and locked her knees so they would stop shaking. His eyes pressed down on her until she couldn’t breathe. The words were lodged in the back of her mouth, acidic and burning her throat like poison.

“I’m gay, Dad.” Her voice faltered, fighting the instinct to swallow the words even as she said them. She waited for the relief the confession had brought her earlier at her mom’s but relief didn’t come this time. Now, even knowing this was the only way, she hated herself for not being stronger, for not being normal, for not being able to be the person he wanted her to be.

A chilling silence fell across her father that she had only seen once before. When she was sixteen while he drove her home from a meeting with the youth minister at their church after he’d found her cuddling on the couch with her best friend. Afterwards, Stef had sat stiff with humiliation in the passenger seat while that silence, dark and suffocating, encroached into her space. Curling away from it, she looked out the window without seeing the blur of the neighborhood passing by. Her hands were tucked under her thighs to keep from flinging open the door. She wanted to jump from the car, to run away from this unbearable shame. Away from him and away from herself. Away from who she was. Now, standing in her father’s kitchen, that dangerous silence fell between them again, pushing its way over to her. Her back was stiff again with that same humiliation, her hands tucked in her pockets, shoulders hunched as she curled away from it. She never thought she would be here again. Everything she had done since that afternoon had been to prevent her from ever feeling this again.

“Dad?” she finally said, unable to take the silence anymore.

“I don’t want to talk about this.” Frank turned his back to her, busying himself with a pile of mail that sat on the counter.

Stef stood with her shoulders pulled up to her ears, her eyes trained on the linoleum floor. “I’m sorry, Dad.” Her voice was barely more than a whisper. When her father remained silent, she dared to look at him for the first time. His back was still to her. “I just…” Stef started slowly. “I know this isn’t what you… I– I tried so hard to, to be who you– Who you want me to be and I… I’m sorry. I just… I can’t pretend anymore…”

Again, she waited. Her father refused to say anything, to acknowledge her at all. Her anger started as a tension in her jaw. The longer he remained silent, the stronger it grew. It crept through her until her hands were balled into shaking fists. It made her stronger. It made her brave.

“I know this isn’t what you want, Dad.” Stef spoke quietly, controlling each word so her voice didn’t tremble. “It’s not what I wanted either. But I can’t be something I’m not. God knows, I spent long enough trying. I’m gay, Dad, and I’m sorry. I’m really sorry. But I’m… I’m in love… with a woman. And for the first time I have a chance at being happy. Really happy. So… even if it’s not how things were supposed to be… Can’t that be enough for both of us?”

Stef watched her father’s jaw grow tight, his spine stiffen. Her pleading eyes went unseen as he still refused to look at her. Stef’s stomach began to ache while her shame grew, overtaking her brief bout of courage as she knew before he spoke that nothing would ever be the same.

“I think you should go.” He flung the words over his shoulder, detached and empty. His face was as cold as stone.

Stef stood, staring with her mouth pressed tight, her jaw clenched as she tried to form words, some argument or plea. Anything to get her dad to change his mind, to forgive her for her sins. But for all the emotions overwhelming her, there was nothing to say. She had made her choice and this is where it had led.

When the silence went on too long, Stef bowed her head, her shoulders slumped forward in defeat.

“I’m sorry, Dad,” she whispered before turning and allowing his silence to push her out.

She leaned against the wall in the hallway outside the living room where Brandon was perched on one of the recliners, engrossed in cartoons. She couldn’t move. With her dad on one side and her son on the other, the hallway felt like shelter, offering her safety in the cover of its darkness. How was she going to get Brandon home when her hands were shaking so bad she had to ball them into fists? Her stomach lurched at the thought of moving and the lump in her throat ached. She couldn’t cry in front of him but the tears were there, pricking at her eyes. When a few trickled down her cheeks, she swiped at them, suddenly angry again. Stef grabbed onto the anger, finding safety and strength in it. The sound of her dad shuffling about in the kitchen, going on with life as usual after shattering hers only added fuel to the fire. She swallowed that damn lump in her throat, forcing it down to join the shame in the pit of her stomach. With her back rigid and her shoulders straight, she forced herself away from the wall and turned the corner to the living room.

“Time to go, Brandon,” she said, her tone sharp.

“But it’s not over!” he whined, pointing at the TV.

“Too bad. It’s time to go,” she repeated. Stef picked up the remote and turned the television off to make herself clear.

“Mommy!”

“I’m not arguing about this. Let’s go.” The words were almost a shout, which she hadn’t meant, but they got her point across. With a fearful look, Brandon scooted off of the chair and bolted to front door. While he slid his shoes on, Stef picked up his backpack and slung it over her shoulder.

“Can I go say bye to Grampa?” Brandon asked. Stef shook her head, her jaw tightening at the thought of seeing her dad again.

“Why?” Brandon slipped back into a whine, confused about being denied something that was normally expected of him. Stef wavered for just a moment, shifting her weight between her feet and chewing on the inside of her lip.

“Grandpa’s not feeling well.”

“But—”

“I said no.” Her words were too harsh and guilt seeped in to join the shame pooled in her belly. She knew this wasn’t fair but she couldn’t bear to be in that house for one more second. “Next time, bud,” she said, her words softer this time. But she didn’t leave any room for arguments as she opened the front door and ushered her confused son out of the house, not sure that there would ever be a next time.

#adamsfosterfic #jty #otp: adamsfoster #the fosters #fanfiction #written by lifesizehysteria

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meetmeatthecoda · 7 years ago

Note

First of all ... A+ for the new fanfic on ao3 !! now for the new fanfic Red and Lizzie #22 please 😊

AU Prompts

22. two miserable people meeting at a wedding au

Hello anon! :D Thank you for the lovely compliment, even though it’s been a million years since you originally gave it. I’m sorry about that… but I finally filled your prompt! :D I hope you can still enjoy it <3 I’ve gotta thank you for this one, it was lots of fun! ;) Nothing much to say about it, I don’t think, other than it’s on the shorter side and supposed to be fun, with lots of references to the show cause… well, cause I can. LOL :’D This will be published as chapter 8 of Amethyst on FF.net and AO3 and, if you get a chance, please let me know what you think! :D Thank you again! :) Much love! <3

“I now declare you husband and wife!”

The wedding guests cheer and Liz joins themreluctantly, managing with considerable difficulty not to roll her eyes.

Long live the happy couple, Liz thinkswith disgust.

She watches as Tom, her cheating ex-husband,and Jolene, the home-wrecker he cheated with, turn to beam at the guests in theirfolding chairs. They raise their linked hands in celebration before walking upthe makeshift aisle of their backyard wedding. Liz personally thinks it’s alittle sloppy, but she supposes they had to go cheap, considering it’s Tom’ssecond wedding.

And Jolene’s third.

Liz stands with the friends and family ofthe bride and groom, watching and listening as they break off into groups andgush about the new couple, leaving Liz feeling very much like an outsider. Ifit hadn’t been for the frilly invitation she received in the mail, written inJolene’s girlish handwriting – seriously, what self-respecting female over theage of fourteen draws little hearts over their i’s? – than Liz wouldn’t havecome to this stupid excuse for a wedding at all.

But she does have a sense of dignity.

And the invitation was clearly a tauntfrom Jolene, who took far too much pride in stealing Tom away from her when shewas about ready to get a divorce anyway, and Liz couldn’t stand thinking of hersmug expression as she put the invitation in the mail, fully expecting Liz to makesome half-hearted excuse and not show up.

Over Liz’s dead body.

So, to prove a point, Liz decided to donher short, blue dress, complete with silver heels and matching clutch, and goto her ex-husband’s second wedding.

Without a plus one of her own.

And now she needs the bar.

Liz works her way through the small crowd,now milling around in the large backyard, waiting patiently for their turn tocongratulate the newlyweds. Liz suppresses a scoff at the thought of standingin front of Tom and Jolene, gritting her teeth and plastering a smile on herface, and gives them a wide berth, heading instead to the large table set upunder the oak tree at the back of the yard that is serving as the bar.

Liz is evidently the first guest with thisidea, causing the bored-looking bartender manning the table to straighten up asshe approaches.

“What can I get you?” he asks genially.

But before Liz can answer, a man issidling up to the bar next to her, looking almost as miserable as she feels,leaning both arms on the table and not waiting for the bartender to ask.

“Double scotch on the rocks.”

Liz’s eyebrows raise at the curt order,but the bartender doesn’t seem taken aback. He just nods quickly and turns backto her.

“And for you, ma’am?”

“An aviation cocktail, please.”

The bartender nods once again and goes offto make their drinks. Liz glances over at the man who so rudely took theattention of the bartender away from her. He is handsome, middle-aged, andwell-dressed in a grey suit and blue tie.

(His tie matches her dress. What a weirdcoincidence.)

And he’s looking at her.

“Aviation cocktail, huh?” he says to her.“Good choice.”

“Thanks,” she says back, surprised that he’stalking to her. “It’s a favorite of mine.”

He nods in easy agreement. “Tastes likespring, doesn’t it?”

Liz smiles despite herself. “Yeah,” shemurmurs. “I’d go for a scotch like you, I could certainly use it, but hardliquor tends to go straight to my head.”

The man turns fully to face her, his facebrightening as he takes her in. “Mine too,” he agrees. “But, in this situation,I couldn’t ask for anything better. This is the last place I want to be.”

“Ha!” Liz barks a sarcastic laugh. “Jointhe club.”

The bartender returns then with their drinks,a small glass with amber liquid for the man and a tall wine glass with crimsonliquid in it for Liz.

The two of them go straight for thealcohol by unspoken agreement, postponing their conversation for a moment. It’sonly when Liz has taken several grateful gulps from her glass and the man hasdowned half his scotch that he turns back to her.

“I bet I have it worse than you,” he saysruefully, raising his eyebrow in challenge.

“Oh yeah?” Liz can feel hysterical gigglesbeginning to bubble up in her chest. “Wanna bet?”

The man chuckles in response. “Sure, what’llit be? Another drink?”

“Deal,” Liz says immediately. She’ll needall the alcohol she can get her hands on. “You first.”

“Okay,” the man says, obviously confident.“I’m a former co-worker of the groom’s mother. The last time I saw her wasabout…ten years ago. And today’s the first day I’ve clapped eyes on her son. Itruly don’t know why I was invited, I think it may have been a mistake.”

Liz nods sympathetically. “That’s rough,”she allows, and he nods solemnly. “But I think I’ve got you beat.”

His eyebrows simply raise in question. “Doyour worst.”

“I’m the scorned ex-wife of the groom.”

He winces immediately, his confidentexpression melting off his face in an instant. “Oh dear,” he murmurs. “And thebride, is she –?

“The woman he left me for? One and the same.”

“Ah,” he grimaces. “Yes, you win, handsdown. Another cocktail, please!” he calls down the bar to the now busybartender, who nods in acknowledgement. “Why did you come then, if you don’tmind me asking?”

Liz shrugs. “There’s no secret to it. Whatwould I look like if I didn’t show up to my ex-husband’s second wedding, whichI was explicitly invited to in what would seem a gesture of good faith?”

“Petty and weak?”

“Bingo,” Liz says, draining her glass andpushing it towards the other side of the bar. “Even if the aforementioned‘gesture of good faith’ is actually a cruel jab from the vindictive new wife.”

The man nods unhappily. “A rock and a hardplace,” he murmurs sympathetically.

(A handsome man who sees her plight. Ather ex-husband’s wedding. How unusual.)

The bartender reappears to slide a freshcocktail towards Liz, whisking away the empty glass without a word.

“Hence, the alcohol,” Liz says with a grinthat feels more like a grimace, raising her glass to the kind man who justbought her the drink. “Thank you, by the way.”

“It’s my pleasure, uh…?” he trails off,clearing asking for Liz’s name.

She swallows her mouthful before hasteningto answer. “Liz.”

“Lizzie,” he finishes with a kind smile.“I only wish I could do more.”

It’s at that moment that the DJ starts up,playing some god awful, gag-worthy romance song as Tom and Jolene take to thesmall square of the yard that’s been designated the dance floor. Liz can’t stopherself from actually rolling her eyes this time, taking another sip of herdrink to fortify herself.

The mystery man at the bar next to her watchesthe dancing couple for a moment before looking down thoughtfully at his own glass.Liz watches as he comes to some sort of decision before he throws back theremainder of his scotch in one smooth gesture and turns to her.

“Actually, perhaps I can,” he saystentatively. “May I ask you to dance, Lizzie?”

Liz blinks in surprise, looking curiouslyat his outstretched hand and then back to his earnest eyes.

(Maybe she should trust this handsome, understandingman with the blue tie. He can’t be worse than Tom. And she has a good feelingabout him.)

“Yes, I think you can, uh…?” she trailsoff the same way he did, asking for his name.

“Raymond,” he supplies helpfully.

“Raymond,” she smiles. “I think that wouldbe nice.”

Liz sets her half empty cocktail on thebar and takes Raymond’s waiting hand, letting herself be escorted to thedancefloor by a man who clearly isn’t her cheating ex-husband.

Maybe this stupid excuse for a weddingwon’t be so bad.

And maybe she won’t need as much alcohol asshe thinks.

Because maybe she has a plus one afterall.

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sundcwns-blog · 8 years ago

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heey, hello, it’s a meme. i’m maze ( she/her ) & hailing from one of the oh so lovely coughs gmt tzs aka gmt+2. besides being trash on the daily i’m literally always listening to music aka if u ever need something new in that department .. hello, or browsing through netflix without any intent on watching smth. living that wild life ik .. DKAMS. but you’re here for my two kids aka basil & saint so here we go ! if you’d like to plot like this and i’ll slide into ur ims or look under the read more for my disc*rd ! also as a warning i unintentionally was v vain and made both muses scorpios .....

☾ — ·˚ » BASIL CRATES is in saint tropez !! they often get mistaken as KIAN LAWLEY. apparently, HE/THEY is/are the JOCULAR of the group. they’re a TWENTY-ONE year old PANSEXUAL DEMIMALE. i hear they’re known as ALTRUISTIC and DOGMATIC. they also make their living as ART STUDENT / BARTENDER / COMIC BOOK ARTIST but you’d have to ask them a bit more.

BACKGROUND + PERSONALITY.

born and raised in berlin, germany until his mother decided to move to the us when basil was twelve.

despite growing up bilingual, he had difficulties adjusting to the new surroundings and rather spent his free time drawing, eventually building up universes without needing any context and instead having the designs speak for themselves.

after finishing high school at age sixteen basil took a gap year to travel through europe with money they earned from several jobs during school times. bas was v very introverted back then, so it served as a challenge which once again they had difficulties with at first. but ofc you can’t get around without trying, so bas did. he’s still more of an ambivalent than an extrovert, but this journey made him see the beauty of uncertainty and they loved it.

also ik i used he & they in that last paragraph instead of just one bc basil honestly truly doesn’t care which one others use as long as they acknowledge bas isn’t cis bc he’s v open about his gender along with being pan .. but that’s another thing.

basil has a very high iq, but always prevented others from knowing about it. he basically failed tests on purpose back in germany and in the us he always made sure others don’t feel bad about their results and said his were worse even though he probably always got an a+, thus resulting in bas being able to skip two grades.

his mother had to carry two jobs to make a living for the two of them, which was one of the reasons why bas sold his art from a young age. thankfully it was actually decent ( coughs and looks @ ryan reynolds’ twitter ) and ppl actually wanted to pay good money for it. this was also one of the key moments in which bas realized they wanted to have their profession somewhere in the art department.

married his high school sweetheart in las vegas as soon as they both turned eighteen, but divorced just three weeks later. this is just one of their impulsive decisions as bas isn’t much of a planner, they rather have a few good laughs when telling the story ( even for the 10th time ) instead of asking what if. the only thing bas ever truly planned was becoming a comic book artist. they’re still at the very beginning as basil’s v young, but they’re just as determined to make it in the industry.

basil’s mother was always into greek mythology and even gave her child the middle name cerberus, which literally is the most dangerous thing about him and while he’s into mythology himself, he doesn’t really tell anyone his middle name as he’d rather not be compared to a three-headed dog .. but if he ever ends up drunk u can bet he’d insist on being called cerberus and nothing else.

being a comic book artist basil’s an avid comic reader as well, but mostly prefers indie comics as they’re more his kind of humor. speaking of, basil’s more of a morbid humor kind of pal ? but he’ll also immediately apologize if he takes it too far bc he values comfort even more than getting a laugh out of others and himself.

huge fan of dogs, literally the person that points at a dog and says “aw.” and definitely wants to pet them.

the least scorpio-like scorpio you will ever meet, and trust me this is coming from a Real Scorpio™.

ends up in a lot of weird scenarios while just trying their best, but always tries to take it with humor especially if someone’s with them.

most of his friends wouldn’t expect it, but basil’s very romantic, like going all out even for a first date and is probably doing waay too much for his opposite.

not really into the whole sex, drugs n rock ‘n’ roll as he prefers to maybe drink a few beers with his closest friends due to seeing what alcohol can do to people on an almost daily basis as a bartender. however, all of kian’s tattoos are canon for bas except for the native american and butterfly ones.

WANTED PLOTS.

literally everything but to be basic .. a best friend ( who might even know about his high iq bc he truly doesn’t tell anyone ), bad influence ( basil’s not exactly innocent or good himself but there’s always worse am i right ), childhood friend ( someone he considered a friend after moving to a completely new country ), enemy ( maybe they’re of the opposite group or even in the same and they had some fight that led to it or just disliking each other for apparently no reason at all just .. pls give me smth negative ), ex on good/bad terms ( as basil’s pretty romantic it could’ve been too much for the other or literally any other reason k thanks ), someone who hates his jokes ( plain n simple .. kewl ), my brain is scattered bc it’s almost 2am rn so i Def missed 820397 plots i’d love but u know what .. i’m a plot pro so shrugs. also i nearly wrote pro plot so u get me now .. pls killme KMDSX.

☾ — ·˚ » SAINT DEVERAUX is in saint tropez !! they often get mistaken as ALISSA VIOLET. apparently, SHE arrived from THE USA. they’re a TWENTY-ONE year old UNLABELED CIS FEMALE. i hear they’re known as VIGOROUS and DETACHED. they also make their living as an ACTRESS but you’d have to ask them a bit more.

BACKGROUND + PERSONALITY.

just as a small disclaimer: if anyone read girls on fire by robin wasserman, saint’s personality is heavily inspired by one of the characters in it aka lacey. and if u haven’t read it .. pls do it if you’re even just remotely into ya literature.

born and raised in los angeles, us, saint was practially thrown into the lives of the rich and famous. her parents were big in hollywood back in the 80s & 90s and gave those legacies to her.

being practially raised by nannies, saint didn’t really have a connection to her parents till they retired when she was fourteen. from there it was basically always good which is .. v weird but they somehow made it work.

as soon as saint turned eighteen she decided to change her last name to her mother’s maiden name, as she’s never been a fan of women having to give up their names just for being married even if it’s voluntary. this also resulted in her imdb page ( she truly made it huh. ) being “divived” into saint bartowski ( also shoutout @ anyone who gets this ref ) and saint deveraux.

at age eighteen saint also let out her true self, at least towards her parents. she admitted to worshipping lucifer just to piss them off and see how they’d react, it was just a game for her. but to be as convincing as possible, she did the most, even though she would’ve already had them just with her words, but saint always wanted to know just how far she could take it.

to the public she’s seen as this socialite turned actress who never did anything wrong, but just due to her parents and herself keeping everything under a neat little rug.

saint’s a very passionate person and loves to be surrounded or admired by people, but at the same time she doesn’t really care about anyone, no matter how many i love yous she’s going to whisper into someone’s ear or no broken promises ever.

as a result of the press putting labels onto her 24/7 she resents them. the only one she’ll ever claim is being in the lgbtq+ com as it’s basically the only thing in her life she truly cares about besides acting and her cats. however saint also makes a lot of fun of men and highly prefers females and nb pals for .. u know what.

she can also be extra af as she literally bought an old vw t1 bus in st. tropez for the short amount of time she’s there and have it look exactly like the one she has back in la with the pride flag sprayed on its roof and every little sticker/detail on its doors, etc.

getting to her job .. she currently stars in a made up netflix show that’s somewhere between veronica mars, twin peaks and 21 jump street ( the movie version ). i actually made a whole filmography for her but i’m too lazy for graphics and i’m not even sure whether i can use real movies/shows so oo. but if u want a list i can tots send it via disc*rd ( btw mine is artcmis#4377 ). and just know that she admires amber heard and mostly chooses roles like her aka not the damsel in distress. tho she would def love to save that kind of character one day .. js.

this is getting soo messy already omg. but to put her in a nutshell, saint’s a callous, manipulative, control loving, determined scorpio who also happens to be an actress, cat lover and feminist putting up a facade daily. also she can’t handle relationships for shhhit.

and what would these bullet points be if i didn’t start and finish them with a disclaimer ? still a mess yeah ik .. MXKAJD. but even tho most probs don’t even know who alissa is i just wanted to say that saint will have green eyes bc .. #aesthetic.

WANTED PLOTS.

once again any plot goes except for romantic stylez kind of plots bc yk not her kind of thing. catfish ( either someone used to catfish someone else using her pics or even better someone got catfished with her photos n now they’re meeting and she’s .. acting v different. plS. ), fwb ( so yeah saint hates relationships but u know what she doesn’t hate wink wink ;) KMSLASK also probs won’t work with males bc she’s all like [ cher horowitz vc ] as if ! ), fan ( someone who likes her movies or show idk ?? let her be all chill with them pls ), smoke bud ( she loves to party & smoke soo .. maybe even in an all-in-one with the fan plot ), enemy ( probs one of the other sec charas bc maybe they’ve met before or even wanted the same role ?? ), once again my brain is a mess sooo .. good bi !

this got longer than my biography ever could so if u read it all .. u truly are the mvp and deserve an award.

#stropez:intro #≻ ᴍᴏᴠᴇ ɪ'ᴍ ɢᴀʏ ┊ ooc.#i feel like i'm the only one not in the gc yet sooo excuse me if i roll in there Very awkwardly later SKAKDJ #also i don't know a proofreading so .. smiles.

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woodrokiro · 8 years ago

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years past. (fic)

FANDOM:Bleach

PAIRING: IchiRuki

SUMMARY: “They say my mother used to smile more. Is that the truth?” Inspired by @deathberryprompts‘ prompt that had to include the words “knife, bridge, and truth). Follows the events following the manga ending, loosely.

“They say my mother used to smile more. Is that the truth?”

She is too much like her damn mother: inquisitive, blunt, honest. Innocent to the point that he can’t find himself able to lie to her.

(Sometimes when he imagines that none of it really happened, that the future wasn’t really the future at all, that he’ll wake up with her in his arms–sometimes he wonders if he’s just talking to a reflection of her.)

– When Kazui becomes a teenager, Ichigo sees Ichika more and more often.

Which is funny, considering he hardly sees his son in any case. Since he and Orihime divorced a few years ago, Kazui only sees his father one weekend every month and has insinuated to prefer it that way. Regardless of how much he may look like him, no matter that his mother left Ichigo with nothing but a lovingly firm I found someone who loves me more note– Kazui is his mother’s son, through and through. And Ichigo really does understand. The way Uryuu treats Orihime is not lost on either son nor father: how much he loves her, how much more he could ever give Orihime than a hollow I love you because you love me. There was never a competition.

Ichigo is thankful his son doesn’t refuse to see him. He’s just a bit concerned about the girl from Death that follows after.

He’s not stupid, and he’s been through this himself–he knows what the fuck is up. He sees how his son looks at her, how he stares down at his shoes with a “‘K bye,” when she has to leave, how sour he is when he tells his father he hasn’t seen her in awhile.

(He’s also seen the terrible, I-mean-god-awful Shakespearean sonnets hidden in the boy’s closet about red hair and violet eyes, and begins to think maybe he really does have some Kurosaki in him.)

And really, Ichigo would just like to avoid this girl, avoid inwardly scowling at the way he knows she will unintentionally hurt his son. He is always sure to say a courteous hello… But. Well–there is also the fact that it is so damn hard to look at her.

Unfortunately, on the weekends she stays it seems she suffers the same insomnia that Ichigo has. That her mother had.

He’s reading a book when she shuffles out in one of Kazui’s shirts (he beats down the inner Isshin wailing inside of him), blearily rubbing her eyes and yawning, halting suddenly when she sees him. They stare at each other–violet to amber eyes–and Ichigo is reminded of so many moments so, so long ago.

“… Hi, Mr. Kurosaki. Um,” she begins shifting foot to foot. “I was just…. Is there anything to eat?”

The kids devoured the rest of the leftovers he made earlier in the night, so there really wasn’t anything but the basics. Regardless, he can never discredit either Yuzu or Orihime for teaching him how to be a good host– so he gets up with a gruff "sure" and moves his way toward the kitchen.

It’s… Awkward, to say the least. Neither are quite sure what to say to each other, how to start the “I am the father to your is-he-isn’t-he boyfriend” or “I may or may not be fornicating with your son” conversation. The only sound is Ichika occasionally shifting in her chair at the kitchen island behind him, the continuous chop of Ichigo’s knife against the vegetables for a stir fry. And Ichigo’s okay with that, he really is, he doesn’t want to start a conversation with this personified representation of a whole world that he will never, ever get back because of some damn rules saying he can’t–

“So… You and my mom were close?”

A pause of the knife against the cutting board before it starts again. “You can say that,” he finally mumbles.

“Well, she was the one who named me Ichika.”

“That was after Orihime.”

He hears her snort behind him. “Sure, ‘Ichika’ from ‘Orihime Inoue’ over 'Ichigo?’ OKAY.”

He looks back behind him at her smug expression, and he can’t help it despite himself–he grins back. “Yeah, maybe I didn’t get that either.”

She laughs, and it’s almost exactly like Rukia’s that he–no. It’s different. It’s a different person. “So…? What’s the real story?”

He shrugs, turning back to his cooking as he tries not to remember dark ebony hair through his fingers, the morning light that fell over an elegant backside, kissing down the cobble stone bridge of a spine–

“We were very close friends. Yeah.”

“Oh. Well, why aren’t you now?”

“We see each other every now and then.”

“The last time I can remember is when Kazui and I were kids. When we first met, like, nine years ago.”

He’s getting impatient. “Look, Ichika, is there something you’re getting at or…?”

When he looks back, she’s carefully observing him, her fidgety nature (definitely from her father he thinks wryly) all but gone as she observes him with those damned eyes. “No, absolutely not. I’m just wondering why my mother and the man she named me after haven’t seen each other for near ten years and she’s about as likely to talk about you as you are about her.”

He doesn’t say anything, just turns back to his cooking. So she hasn’t told her anything either, huh? Figures.

Ichika clearly catches the tone of the room. The silence is only broken by her soft “thank you” when he gives her the plate, but he doesn’t much hear it. He’s already on his way to his bedroom.

—

Despite himself, he really begins to like the kid.

More weekends come and pass, and every time he finds himself making her a meal at two, three, sometimes four am while Kazui is still asleep.

They start to have have much lighter conversations, thankfully. Ichigo will ask how Soul Society is holding up, what the new policies are like, whether Kenpachi is still a crazy son of a bitch. She’ll sometimes ask about the human world, but he has a feeling these questions are more reserved for his son. Instead she usually asks him about himself.

What was he like as a kid? What were the adventures with her mother like?. She’s more respectful on the subject of Ichigo and Rukia’s relationship itself, only strangely asking whether it was true her mother smiled more once (to which he shrugged because? He guessed? Rukia smiled often from what he saw, but he thought it was only at his ridiculous teenage antics); otherwise, she didn’t broach more on what they were like she did the first night.

Then Kazui graduated high school.

She attended the ceremony with his parents and stepfather–quiet for once, much different than the wild and free caring girl he had ever witnessed before. He got to witness the strange relationship between she and Orihime: an evident respect, and yet a wary sadness on Orihime’s part. He can guess what his ex wife is thinking; but he chooses not to acknowledge it, only smiles at her agreeably as she squeezes his arm with a watery smile.

He was absolutely not prepared for the conversation awaiting him at 12:37 am tonight.

He comes out from a late practice in the clinic to find her waiting for him, per usual, at the kitchen island. He snorts, shakes his head as he wanders over the fridge, prepared to make a scramble or something, as long as it doesn’t have onions because she’s made it pretty clear she hates onions–

“Your son proposed to me, Mr. Kurosaki. I said yes.”

He turns. She babbles on, looking at a point over his head. “He’s going to ask for your blessing in the morning, when I’m conveniently asleep, but I thought I’d warn you. He’ll ask my dad in a few days, when he gathers up that courage. My mother he’s saving for last. He already asked Mrs. Ishida, and she gave her–well, somewhat of a blessing. I think she’s scared, but honestly? We both are, and we’re really asking for the support of our loved ones to back us up on it. We don’t really know how we’re going to do it, but we know we love each other and–”

“It’s not possible.”

She takes his pale complexion and his wild eyes, concerned. “Mr. Kurosaki…?”

“No. No, fuck this–excuse me. I’m sorry, I’m just–I don’t mean to be rude. But it was never possible before, how do you expect…? Look, it’s obvious I like you, Ichika. It’s obvious you make my son happy, and you’re a good girl, and there’s a reason I make you meals in the day or this late at night or let you sleep over in Kazui’s room against any sane fatherly reasoning, but this has gone too far. These are silly notions in both of your heads, and trust me I tried to… I tried to do something very similar to you, I fucking tried–”

“Mr. Kurosaki.”

“But there’s no way Soul Society’s going to up and allow it. There’s no way I’m going to allow it to break my son’s heart like it did mine. There’s no way that this was okay when it was the whole reason she wouldn’t–she didn’t–”

“Mr. Kurosaki, I’m sorry but I’m not my mother.”

And when he glances up at her, really just looks at her he thinks she might be lying because that’s all he sees in that serious expression–

And for the first time in years, he loses it.

Just crumbles, slides down the fridge bad-knees-be-damned. Allows this moment to fucking grieve for past mistakes, for the soft smiles he never again got to wake up to, for the ridiculous dancing-in-the-kitchen married moments life didn’t give him, for the tearful goodbyes while he stood by and did nothing, just let life screw him over for an excuse as simple that he was tired. Always tired, and for what? For her daughter with another man to tell him it was all for nothing?

He feels her sit with him, there on the linoleum floor of his kitchen, feels her cool touch as her hand rests against his shoulder. Neither say anything for awhile, and he is thankful.

“Mr. Kurosaki,” she finally starts when the worst of his moment has passed. She stops shortly before starting again. “Have you ever wondered why Kazui and I have aged the same?”

Of course he had. He’s sure it’s boggled Mayuri from a distance for years. He doesn’t respond.

“Of course, we have too… And we don’t really have an answer either. Kazui says it’s some red string of fate, like soul mates or whatever–you know him, he’s such a romantic–but you know… Who knows? I’m not sure, but it must be something like that. Something in both life and death is telling us we need to exist together.”

He rubs a tired hand over his eyes. “That’s great, Ichika, but I don’t–”

“My mother and father separated years ago. He still looks like he’s nineteen… But she began to age, visibly. She looks about the same age as you.”

He stills, heart dropping to his stomach. When was the last time he saw Rukia? He guesses it hadn’t been since he saw her when the kids met; every time after, they both claimed they were too busy, but…. He hadn’t thought she looked much older last time?

(Really, she looked to him as breathtaking as all the times before.)

“My father still loves her, you know. Always will,” she continues, “They’re still good friends, but… I think he just couldn’t stand by and watch that anymore, you know? And she’s kind to a fault. She didn’t want that for him, so she just stood there when he moved his stuff out and I watched it all and for awhile I hated her. Couldn’t stand the thought that I might’ve been a mistake in this whole scheme of things. And I know–I know that’s not true. Soul Society puts up a big fuss about knowing everything, but there are just the some things that the universe chooses to happen and souls to be born and it’s nobody’s fault. If you hadn’t married Mrs. Ishida, Kazui wouldn’t be alive. If my mother and father hadn’t married, I wouldn’t have been born, and neither of us would be here and this big beautiful mess would’ve been a lot freaking simpler, wouldn’t it?”

She laughs a watery laugh, and fuck it– Ichigo may not have been the best he wanted to be in his life, but he is still a father, through and through. He ruffles her hair as she takes a moment.

“But we’re here, you know? I have Kazui. I still have my parents who love me, unconditionally. You’re a pseudo-dad, albeit a weirdo one, so I hope I have you. At this point, I just want to be with your son. And I…” She looks at him, and–isn’t this the pattern?–he’s momentarily shattered.

“I just want to see what it looks like for my mother to smile like she used to.”

…

The Soul Society wedding is stupidly lavish, all credit due to Ichika’s asshole uncle.

Ichigo tries to swallow his pride and grumble to himself that really, the living world ceremony was much better, much more personal–but whatever, let Byakuya have this. He was already so damned protective of Rukia, he can only imagine how the Kuchiki was with his niece.

Still, considering the time it’s been since he’s saved the world and Soul Society and all that, it was nice to be invited, to be so sincerely welcomed by old friends. He said his hellos to each of the captains (excluding Kenpachi– he was still actively hiding from that friend as long as he could), promised a drink later with Ikkaku and Iba’s gang. Renji even gave him a hard clap on the back, making him swear father to father that the two of them would embarrass their children later at the reception.

He sees her from a distance, from the corner of his eye. Of course he does: how could he not? And yeah she looks a bit older, he can see the slightest wrinkle whenever he chances a glance, but–honestly? There’s not much of a difference.

Not much that he cares about, anyway.

He sucks in a breath, pulls together his courage enough to approach her as the crowd transitioned from ceremony to reception.

And when she turns around to look at him…. It’s so stupid and sounds so much like the shoujo manga his sister used to read when they were kids, but he feels like he’s fifteen again. Her eyes watch him carefully as he shuffles and stuffs his hands in his pockets.

“So… Byakuya sure helped make a nice ceremony, huh?”

A quick beat passes before she snorts. “Fool,” she says, rolling her eyes, “I should hope it’s nice wedding. It’s your son’s, for God’s sake.”

“Yeah, and your daughter’s, so what about it? Can’t I say one nice thing to you without starting an argument?!”

“Of course you can, but I didn’t like the attitude behind it! It’s like you were saying Nii-sama would create anything but a stunning ceremony for our children!”

“Okay, I wouldn’t say stunning, a little over the top if you ask me–”

“Well thank goodness no one’s asking you, then!” She’s huffing and puffing and the hair in her elegant coif is coming out in loose strands and how could he ever help being in love with her?

“It’s not fair,” he blabbers before he can help himself. He shuts his mouth as she looks at him strangely.

“What was that?”

He considers his options. He could lie. Say he was talking about something else. Continue on with the joke about the stupid ceremony. Tease her mercilessly about the stupidly ornate little baubles in her hair, the elegant layers of kimono that don’t suit her at all–

But fuck it. He spent twenty plus years wasting his time.

“It’s not fair… For you. That I told you so.” He answers honestly, gesturing around him.

She stares at him for a terrifying moment, and he’s afraid that maybe he didn’t get it or maybe she understood all too well–

And then she smiles.

#deathberryprompts #deathberry100 #ichiruki #my stuff #bleach #in which I turn this ending into a fucking shoujo

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