#I'm very sorry if someone already did this
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
Hello tumblr has decided to temporarily disappear the request I'm ready to post again, so sorry and thank you for requesting <3
Request: i love love love your writing and was wondering if you’d write a period hurt/comfort with james? i have really bad endometriosis, and i’ve never really had someone take it seriously :( fainted earlier so i’m in pain rn and i just know james would be such a sweetheart
cw: modern au, reader who menstruates, very mild/vague description of cramps, male gaslighting/suspicion of female pain (what else is new)
James Potter x fem!reader ♡ 895 words
“Will that be all?” The geniality in James’ tone is starting to wane thin. He paces aimlessly around your flat, down the hall and into the bedroom and then back out again, footsteps meandering about the kitchen. “Right, yeah. No, I’m quite sure she’ll be out all day.”
James shoots you an exasperated look as he comes into the sitting room, and you manage a smile-esque grimace from the couch in return. Your boss is a piece of work, you know.
You hold out your hand for the phone. James shakes his head.
“No, she can’t come to the phone right now,” he says, sitting beside your curled-up legs. “She’s resting. Did I mention she fainted a bit ago? Alright, yeah, just checking. Yeah. Yeah, okay. I’ll let her know.”
You grimace again when he puts down the phone. Hanging up without telling the other person to have a lovely day is like James’ equivalent of the middle finger.
“Sorry,” you say.
“What’re you sorry for?” James gives your calf a gentle squeeze. “Your boss is rather pushy, isn’t he? Shouldn’t take so much to use a sick day.”
“I don’t think he believes me.” You let your face mush deeply into a throw pillow. There’s a light sweat broken out on your brow, but you couldn’t be more grateful for the sweltering heating pad held tight over your abdomen. “I could’ve talked to him.”
James makes a face. “You shouldn’t have to deal with someone like that when you’re already poorly.”
“What did he want you to let me know?”
“Oh. Uh.” James seems as though he did not, in fact, plan to let you know, but now that you’ve asked he can’t avoid it. “He said that he expects to see you in tomorrow. We’ll see.”
You sigh. “I might be able to manage tomorrow. Or I might be a bit better, at least.”
“We’ll see,” he says again, stooping to mush a kiss into the side of your head. “Don’t worry about that yet, sweetheart. How are you feeling now?”
“Better than when I woke up.”
“Yeah?” James asks hopefully. It’s a low bar, considering that early this morning the pain had been bad enough to cause you to pass out. But if there’s one thing James can be relied upon for, it’s a positive outlook. “That’s great, lovie. Is there anything you need?”
You shake your head, breaths shallowing as your cramps worsen. Nausea pinches the back of your throat. James’ face pinches, too, as he sees. He rubs your lower back where the muscles tend to clench.
“Is there anything you want?” he asks instead.
It almost makes you laugh. Almost, but even that’s enough to ease the pain slightly.
“No,” you say, breathing out as the worst passes. James continues massaging your back. “Thanks.”
“Maybe we could try a walk later, if you’re feeling better,” he says. “Some light exercise might help.”
“Maybe,” you murmur. Truly, the thought of leaving this couch anytime during the next week makes you want to sew yourself into the cushions. James probably knows you’re only humoring him, but he doesn’t say anything. When you hug your heating pad closer, he spreads his palm flat over your back to transfer heat there, too.
You relax some when the cramp eases the rest of the way. “Sorry. I don’t mean to take over your whole day.”
“Sweetheart, why are you sorry?” James places his free hand over yours on your heating pad. Between that and the one on your back, it’s almost like a hug. “I know you don’t want this to happen. And, honestly, I’d rather have my day taken over by you than anyone else. Don’t tell Sirius.”
That coaxes a small smile out of you. James grins, leaning down again to plant a kiss on your cheek.
“I’m sorry you’re so miserable.”
“I’m not miserable,” you say. “I’m with you.”
James makes a horrendously fond sound, cuddling you close. “You flatterer. I don’t know where you find the energy to be so sweet during times like this.”
You make it easy, you want to say, but James will only think you’re playing along with him and you want to say it when he’ll hear the sincerity you mean it with. Instead, you intertwine your fingers with his and say, “I’ve thought of something I want.”
“Yeah?” James sits up. He brushes a few strands of hair away from your face, mindless of your clamminess. You think that maybe the only thing bigger than James’ capacity for love is how it feels to be at the center of it. “Some tea, maybe? That tumeric one helped a bit last time, remember?”
“Maybe later,” you say, voice softening. “For now, could I please have a kiss?”
James blinks once in surprise, but then he grins. “Ah, for the endorphins,” he says, already bending down. “Good thinking, angel.”
“Right.” You don’t know where he gets these facts. You suspect he scrolls through endometriosis reddit forums while you’re asleep. “Yeah.”
James makes it a kiss worth asking for. He keeps his hand flat over your back as he leans over you, the other cupping your cheek to encourage your face towards him. And when your lips part, you do feel a bit better. It’s a magical cure-all, just like the fairytales say.
#james potter#james potter x reader#james potter x fem!reader#james potter x y/n#james potter x you#james potter x self insert#james potter fanfiction#james potter fanfic#james potter fic#james potter hurt/comfort#james potter fluff#james potter imagine#james potter scenario#james potter drabble#james potter blurb#james potter one shot#james potter oneshot#marauders#marauders fanfiction#the marauders#marauders fandom#hp marauders#marauders x reader
387 notes
·
View notes
Text
☆How to deal with failure
Don't.
Seriously, don't. You did not 'fail', you are not even close to failing, because failure doesn'teven exist. "Oh but I didn't/ couldn't manifest xyz so i failed", No? You still didn't fail. You successfully manifested an outcome, it was just not aligned with your wants. Why? It's simple, you probably "assumed" you have xyz, then went on panicking and doubting or probably having a mental breakdown over "where is it?" or "I don't see it" or worst of all, prepared some "back up" plans "just in case" your "assumption failed". Basically you did everything that contradicted your assumptions, got scared and started to believe your doubts might actually be true, and went back to the loophole, yet again.
I'm gonna hold your hand when I say this, but, doubts, negative/ intrusive thoughts literally CANNOT do anything in their power to stop your manifestations. they were, are, and will ALWAYS be under you. I'll admit, its okay to doubt. It's okay to "contradict" your manifestations because we are still human. But, seriously? you're actually Giving in to them? They say you cannot manifest xyz because its just "illogical" and you actually believed it? A literal God, the creator, is stopped by some mere opposing thoughts? Babe, its 2025. How long are you gonna doubt yourself, thinking you just cannot manifest, and beg others for help? when all you need to do is just assume in your favour, and that is literally it. It doesn't matter what the 3D shows you, because it was never about the 3D. Remember, you only just perceive the 3D based off your assumptions. you're actually living in your 4D. Literally, Right now, if you merely just THINK that you already Induced pure consciousness, or passed that test with straight A's, hell, even something like you are already living your dream life and you're going on your 10th international trip today, it is god damn real. That imagination, is the only truth. The 3D? It's gonna catch up babe, don't worry. It has to and WILL reflect your 4D, idc how much you doubt that statement. No the 3D does NOT fail to reflect your assumptions. You don't go over to a mirror and think "I'm scared, what If the mirror stops reflecting?" Does that make any sense? exactly.
Manifesting or loassumption is as easy as it can get, decide you having something, or assume you have something WITHOUT spiraling cause the doubts and shit are fake asf. Its 1 FREAKING step. It doesn't matter how "illogical" or "dumb" or "delusional" your manifestations seem, we are literally floating on a rock in the middle of nowhere called space, and you say you can't manifest your desires. STOP WAITING ANY LONGER! just APPLY and watch your desires unfold!
(p.s, sorry if this might come off as rude to someone, but this was very much needed considering how it's legit 2025 and yet people deem manifestation as "impossible".)
(artworks here are not mine, full credits to the artists.)
#law of assumption#lucid dreaming#manifesting#void state#law of attraction#reality shifting#shifting consciousness#void success#pure consciousness#void#shifting community#shiftblr#voidblr#neville goddard
87 notes
·
View notes
Text
Younger Uchinaga - Chapter Twenty
Synopsis: When Aespa Giselle's younger sister made her debut as a member of the international girl group Katseye, and caught the attention of Aespa's beloved leader.
- Han River
──────────── ⋆⋅ ☾ ⋅⋆ ────────────
Y/N’POV
I'm on my way back to the dorm from a meeting at HYBE. I'm very stressed; they want me to do something I don't want to do. I told them several times that I didn't want to do it, but instead of listening, they just gave me time to think about it.I was deep in thought when the taxi driver informed me that we had arrived.
"That would be 9,000 won, ma'am," he said, smiling at me. "Here," I handed him 10,000 won. "Keep the change, sir," I said, opening the car door. "Thank you, ma'am," he murmured before I closed the door.
I walked inside the building and was met by the guard who opened the door for me. "Good evening ma'am, Miss Yu just came back 5 minutes ago before you, she's with a man," the guard stated, confusing me. "Thank you, have a nice evening," I smiled at him before continuing to the elevator.
"A man? Who could it be? If I remember correctly, their manager is a girl; perhaps they have a new one." I entered the elevator and pressed the button for Aespa's apartment floor.
"It's probably a new manager, since they have their own individual activity now." The door opened, signaling that I was already on the apartment floor. I exited the elevator and walked towards the apartment.
I opened the door with the key Giselle unnie gave me, still thinking about what the guard had said. When I opened the door, I saw something that surprised me. Karina and his ex-boyfriend, Jae Wook, kissing.
Karina immediately pushed him when she noticed me "Aera, this is not what you're thinking" Karina said heading towards me "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to disturb you" I muttered before slamming the door and dash to the elevator
“Aera, please! Listen to me!" I heard Karina shouting while following me, but I ignored her and entered the elevator, closing it instantly. I caught a glimpse of her before the elevator entirely closed.
"Why do I feel this way? We're not together," I said, tears streaming down my cheeks. "Maybe she didn't mean what she said last night; perhaps it was just a prank. I'm so stupid that I believed her," I told myself. The door opened, and I heard a gasp. I looked up and saw Winter Unnie, who looks worn out from her recent schedule.
"Aera? Are you alright?"She was going to hug me when I dodge her and run away.
"Aera! wait!" She yelled, but I didn't stop; instead, I grabbed a taxi and got inside. The driver was shocked, but I just ordered him to drive. I looked out the window and saw Minjeong unnie, who looks worried. I just look at my lap I feel so stupid.
When I saw Aeri unnie's message, I couldn't help but cry since I betrayed her by having a something with one of her members "I could destroy their group what am I even thinking!" I cried, hugging my legs at the side of Han River.
“maybe i should just do what the company wants me to do”
earlier…
“Good evening, Miss. The CEO are waiting for you at his office” The HYBE Secretary told me “Okay, thank you” I said before walking towards the door of his office
"You arrived just in time. Have a seat," he said, motioning me to sit on the sofa. I did what he stated and sat down on the sofa, with him seated in front of me. "How are you? How is your arm?" He questioned, and I looked at my arm and responded, "I'm good, just doing well in my sister's dorm."
"Speaking of, that is one of matters I'd like to discuss," he remarked openly. “What is it, Sir?” I asked him, "I want you to leave there, and I'll arrange an apartment for you." He said, "May I ask why?" I asked him. "You see, we have a rivalry with SM entertainment, and I don't want them to think that we aren't taking care of you." He said
"And since you're already here, I'll go straight to the point. I want you to date someone," he stated, which surprised me. “What do you mean?"I asked him.
"You see, our company is under fire right now after what newjeans have done, and we'll simply cover it up with a dating issue," he said standing up and looking at the busy road of Seoul through the glass wall.
"Why do you want me to do it?" I don't want to," I said with venom in my voice. "I mean, if you don't want to, we'll tell Megan to do it," he said, making me furious. "Megan?"I asked him.
"Yes, Megan.” He looked at me and added, "So think carefully, Uchinaga." He fixed his necktie. "I'll give you some time to think," he said, patting my shoulder and handing me a paper before exiting the room.
~~
I was about to call Aeri unnie to pick me up when a message from Megan pop up. She sent me a picture of her
“We‘ll tell Megan to do it” The CEO’s voice rang inside my head
I looked at the a picture Megan sent me. "You look so happy, my mei, and I will not let anyone take that happiness away from you, even if it means taking away my own.”
The only reason why i don’t want to accept it is because of Karina. Now i don’t have any reason not to.
I took out the paper that the CEO had given me and dialed it. It took three rings until someone picked it up: "Hello, this is Katseye's Y/N. Meet me at the Han River"
previous • masterlist • next
ps. don't mind the typos
@yeetaberry127 @yjiminswallet @sixflame438 @ourlovesarang @saysirhc @tzuyusdoughnut @gtfoiydlyj @swanyvess @arihiu @starstruckgoateepuppy @hyessemble @spidrgamer @kimminjiissosjdirbidnsjje @linnnsworld @cwpiqwon @w1w2 @llotvkmj @meganskiendielsbtc
#~jsxjmn zavie#—zavie’s work#aespa smau#aespa x fem reader#aespa x reader#aespa#aespa karina#karina x reader#karina x fem reader smau#karina x fem reader#karina#yu jimin x fem reader#yu jimin x reader#yu jimin#katseye x y/n#katseye 7th member#katseye#katseye x reader#wlw
71 notes
·
View notes
Text
From Under The Desk
JaycexFem!Reader
Modern College AU
You have a paper due at midnight. A very important one. You absolutely CANNOT afford to be distracted.
Jayce distracts you.
Warnings: 18+ (this is basically just smut without plot tbh.) Reader is AFAB. Oral sex, cunnilingus, descriptions of genitalia. Small age gap? Like, only a year or two. Does that count? Idk let me know if i missed something <3
You scrubbed a hand across your face, exhaustion tugging at your eyes. It wasn't actually that late- it was only about seven pm. But, you'd stayed up all of last night writing this damned paper, only to go and spend a full day in class afterwards. And now here you were, hunched over your desk like a vulture pecking at your keyboard.
Getting the words down was the easy part. It was making them make sense that made your brain hurt. The amount of words you'd back-spaced over was probably comparable to the ones you'd actually kept.
You took a swig of your energy drink, wincing as the carbonation hit the back of your throat. You don't know why you bothered honestly; it wasn't doing anything for you at this point.
It was then that you heard the lock on the front door click, and the telltale shuffling sounds of someone entering your tiny apartment.
"I'm home!"
You heard Jayce's muffled voice through your bedroom door, but you made no effort to tear your attention away from your computer screen.
"Hon?" You heard him call again, "You home?"
More shuffling. Then, he knocked softly on the door before opening it. "Hon?" He repeated.
"Hey," you said automatically, fingers still flying across your keyboard.
"Hey, you." You could hear the smile in his voice, and it made your stomach flutter a little. "I picked up some takeout for dinner- I even got those little crab rangoons you love."
In your head, you meant to say something like, 'Wow! Thank you, my love. Im so excited to eat my favorite food with you!' But you didn't, leaving only an awkward pause in the back and forth you could barely call a conversation. You scrolled back to the top of your paper to re-read it, skimming for mistakes. Ah- there's a typo here. It should be "perceived", not-
"Hey, are you okay? Did you hear me?"
"What?" You bristled a little bit, annoyed to have been interrupted. You finally turned around to acknowledge him, trying to hide your chagrin. "Oh...sorry. Um, thank you. That was thoughtful."
It had taken a moment to force your eyes to focus on him, after staring at a bright screen for so long. When they did, you found he looked significantly more chipper than you felt. That made sense, you supposed. He had been freed from the confines of student life already, no longer bogged down by trivial things like homework and exams. Lucky bastard.
His eyes grazed across your face, then the rest of your body- and stopped when he found something interesting.
"You're wearing my hoodie,". He said. Irritation clawed at your stomach, and you swallowed the 'so what?' rising in your throat. You really just wanted to get back to work.
"It's comfy," you said instead, shrugging. "Sorry. I hoped you wouldn't mind. Do you want it back?" He shook his head, starting towards you.
"No, it looks good on you. Keep it on." He leaned down to peck you on the cheek, and you smiled tiredly at him. His hair was slightly tousled from a long day at work, and his chiseled cheekbones were smeared with grease. His cologne was mixed with the smell of coal and something vaguely chemical. Truthfully, what you really wanted was to yank off the hoodie, and his clothes too, and pull him into the shower with you- but there was no time for that now. You swiveled your chair around again, going back to your work.
"Im sorry," you said, "This paper is due in a couple of hours and I need to get it done. You should go ahead and eat if you're hungry. You don't have to wait. And please take a shower."
"What?" He teased, "You don't like the smell of hydraulic fluid?" He wrapped his arms around you and dropped his chin on top of your head. You found it difficult to keep yourself upright under his immense weight.
"No, I don't," you huffed. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to be rude, but I need to focus on this. But once I'm done, I'm yours for the rest of the night, okay?"
The weight was lifted as he moved away from you, chuckling. "Alright, Alright. I'll leave you to it. God, it's kinda hot when you're mean to me. Maybe you should do that more often."
You swatted his arm, staring incredulously, and he ducked away as he laughed again. "I'm not being mean to you. I thought I was being pretty polite all things considered."
"You are mean to me," he whined. "You wont even let me give you my love and attentioonnn." He gave you fake puppy dog eyes, and you snatched a pencil off your desk, holding it up like you were going to chuck it at him.
"Get out," you warned. He held up his hands in surrender and backed out the door, eyes full of mirth.
"I bet you'd be nicer to me if you ate something."
You threw the pencil as hard as you could, but he shut the door before it reached him, and it bounced off the wood instead. You heard him cackling on the other side, before you heard his heavy footsteps move away.
You huffed, running your fingers through your hair. It was greasy, and in need of a good combing-through. You hadn't really had time for a shower yourself; but it could wait a little longer. You went back to your pecking.
Too soon, you heard the bedroom door open again. "Back already?" You asked mechanically.
"Already?" He repeated. "It's been like an hour." You glanced at the clock on the bottom corner of your screen. He was right. You'd been so focused that you didn't realize how long it had been.
"Whoops." You still didn't cease your typing.
You felt his weight upon you the same as before, forcing a wheeze from your lungs. "Why are you so heavy?" You huffed.
He chuckled, and you felt the vibrations against your back. The two of you stayed there like that for a moment, and you rubbed your eyes again. His warmth was comforting, and dangerously cozy. You were going to fall asleep at this rate. You shrugged, trying to get him to move off of you- but he didn't budge. Instead, he pressed his face into your neck, and his hair tickled your cheek. It was still damp, and you could smell his shampoo- like mint, and something darker, more earthy. You tilted your head to kiss the top of his own, breathing in the scent; but never taking your eyes away from your computer.
"Your food's getting cold, love." His breath tickled your skin, giving you butterflies again. "You should come eat something. You'll feel better."
"Can't," you muttered. Even if you wanted to, the caffeine you'd been chugging all day dampened your appetite, despite your empty stomach. He was probably right, but if you stopped now, you might not be able to start again. You had to capitalize on your focus; you couldn't afford to lose it.
Jayce brushed his lips against your jaw, pressing little kisses into the bone, and down your neck. He trailed a hand down your arm, the one opposite to him, and slipped it across your thigh, into the space between your legs-
'What do you think you're doing?" He stood up straight, taking his hand back. You glared at him, half annoyed, and half aroused. It was only now that you realized he wasn't wearing a shirt- just a pair of sweatpants that accentuated his girth in just the right way. You could see every muscle he worked so hard to build on full display, and your breath hitched. His tanned skin was just as damp as his hair, still shining with water. You wondered if he'd even bothered to dry off when he got out of the shower.
"I'm sorry. I can stop if you really want me to," he said gently. He looked down at you with something on his face you couldn't quite read. He wasn't frowning, nor smiling. His eyebrows were quirked upward just slightly, eyes half lidded. His expression was somewhere between lust and fatigue, you decided. Maybe he'd had a long day, too.
You blinked, trying to keep your eyes open. Maybe you didn't want him to stop- but you had to get this done if you had any hope of graduating next semester. You couldn't afford to fail this class. You looked away from him, feeling torn. In the corner of your eye, you watched him kneel beside you, and felt the weight of his head in your lap. He slid his hands around your waist, one of them between you and the back of your chair, and the other across your lap.
"You don't have to stop," you said quietly. "But I can't, either. This is important."
"Is that what you want though? For me to keep going, I mean?"
You nodded, swallowing thickly. "I do. I just need you to understand that I'm not ignoring you to be mean; I don't want to hurt your feelings because I'm not being an active participant."
He lifted his head, shifting himself between your legs. He had to duck and curl himself up awkwardly to fit himself underneath your desk- it was kind of cute, actually, watching him trying to fit his giant shoulders and long legs into such a tight space.
"I don't think that at all," he said when he was finally comfortable. "I know this it's important to you." He slid his hands up your thighs, letting one of his thumbs land on the spot where he knew your clit to be. He stroked it gently through the fabric of your pants, and you bit your lip to stop the gasp trapped in your throat. His other hand grasped your hip, massaging the soft malleable flesh of your curves with his thumb. He rested his cheek on your knee, looking up at you lovingly.
"You just seem so stressed," he said. "I wanna help you relax." He punctuated his words by swiveling his hand around, sliding his fingers under the curve of your pelvis. Well, 'relaxed' isn't the word you would use to describe yourself right now. A coil had wound itself inside your stomach, and your legs were tense with anticipation. In his hands, you were putty. You couldn't think straight anymore. You tried to focus, tried to keep your eyes on the prize. You were almost done here. Just a couple more paragraphs to go, and then you could-
"Oh-" you gasped involuntarily, something girlish and high pitched. Your face burned with embarrassment- you'd never made a noise like that before. But you couldn't help it- not with the way he was sliding his fingers into you now. You hadn't even realized he had managed to tug your pants down enough to expose you to him.
His other hand, previously on your hip, had slid up your sweater. It was on the small of your back now, pressing you forward. He drew his fingers out of you, slowly, and you bucked your hip forwards with a groan. He was moving so, so slowly. He was being so gentle and sweet, you thought your teeth were going to rot and fall out of your skull. He leaned forward, kissing your stomach, moving down to the side- to your hip, in the crease of your skin where your pelvis met your thigh. You shivered; his lips brushed you so lightly it tickled a bit. Your fingertips buzzed with electricity as you tried to keep typing. But then you felt his tongue sliding between your folds and you couldn't do it anymore.
You let your eyes flutter shut, letting him finally overtake your thoughts completely. You buried your face in your hands, trying to control your ragged breathing as he moved his tongue up, and down, slowly, gently. He pushed his tongue inside of you, lapping at you like he hadn't had a drop to drink in days. You whined, sliding a hand under the desk to grab his hair, to bring him closer to you. You could hear him panting, feel his breath against your pubic mound. His movements grew more desperate at your touch, ever eager to please.
You laid your other arm on the table, resting your head on it like a pillow. You really couldn't stop the sounds escaping from you now. Every gasp, moan, and whimper from you only seemed to further spur him, urging him to move faster. He alternated between fucking you with his tongue, reaching as far inside of you as he could manage, and moving back up to lick tiny circles around your clit.
You moved your hips with his rhythm, desperate for more friction as you felt yourself growing closer and closer to the edge. "Jayce," you whispered shakily, "I-I'm really- mmmfh- close-"
He didn't let up even a little bit, even when you leaned back, pushing his head against you so hard you were worried he'd suffocate. You were almost blinded by pleasure, the coil winding itself tighter and tighter- until it finally snapped.
You cried out his name like a prayer, over and over again as you shook. You clamped your thighs around his ears, wrapping your legs together over his shoulders. You tugged on his hair like it was a lifeline, feeling every crashing tidal wave of your orgasm in full force as your back arched away from your chair. You practically sobbed, your eyes watering. You couldn't help it. It was so good.
He finally stopped when he sensed you'd had enough, slumping in your chair like a rag doll as exhaustion racked your brain through the afterglow. He pulled back, his face shiny with spit and slick. You smiled at him, before letting your head flop back as you closed your eyes.
'That was hot," he whispered. You snorted, not opening your eyes. You felt his fingers brush your skin as he pulled your pants back up, and shivered slightly when the cold wet fabric of your underwear met your overly-sensitive groin. You pressed your toes against the floor to push your chair from under the table so he'd have room to get out.
"That didn't take very long, either" he teased. "You must have been pretty pent up." You heard shuffling as he stood, and you finally opened your eyes when you felt his lips brush against your forehead. You flicked his shoulder.
"You're just good at what you do."
He smiled, his eyes flickering across your face. You reached up to rub your thumb across his chin, trying to wipe off some of the remaining fluids. He grabbed your wrist and pressed a kiss into your palm before you could withdraw it, never taking his eyes off of you.
"Come eat something, please," he whispered. You sighed and glanced at the clock again, considering it- it was almost 9:15. There was still time.
"Alright, alright," you resigned. "Give me five minutes, and I'll be right there."
Jayce made a face you couldn't discern, and let go of your hand. "Okay," he said, and stepped out of the room.
He came back ten minutes later to find you still at your computer. "I couldn't wait any longer," he said- making you jump.
"Augh, I'm sorry, Jayce," you said- and you meant it.
"It's okay," he shrugged, "I had a feeling this might happen. You get so sucked in sometimes. It's endearing, actually."
He set two styrofoam boxes next to you, and opened another for himself. "I thought I would just bring dinner in here. Maybe I could help you edit? Make things go a little faster so we can get you in the shower?" He smirked, sitting on the edge of the bed. It was lodged into the corner of the room, with the desk beside it like an oversized nightstand. There'd be no room to move about, otherwise.
You cracked open the first box, choosing to ignore his quip, and your mouth watered at the sight of your favorite food inside. Ugh, even cold it smelled amazing. You shoveled it into your face with the flimsy plastic fork, newfound hunger making itself evident. You looked to Jayce, intending to thank him for the meal; but you found he was looking at you expectantly.
'What?" You asked through a mouthful of food.
"Did you want my help?"
Oh.
You swallowed.
"Sorry. Um, yes. That might be nice honestly. I could use a break."
He set his food aside, chuckling. "The first one wasn't enough?" He teased. You scowled, only pretending to be upset.
"Whatever man. Switch me places." You stood up to give him your chair, and he complied- though he had to pull the lever under the seat to lower it, to make room for his mile-long legs.
"Alright, let's see, here..."He squinted as he read your work, and you took the opportunity to admire him. God, he really was incredibly handsome. His long, calloused fingers looked enormous over your keyboard compared to your own. His bulky shoulders hunched forward, pulling the skin of his back taught over his muscles. You bit your lip, feeling your arousal coming back through your fatigue. He glanced at you, and you blushed when you caught him staring; as if you hadn't been together long enough by now that this wasn't embarrassing. But he still never failed to give you the warm-and-fuzzies so to speak. He smiled, laughing through his nose.
"What're you looking at?"
You twirled your hair with exaggeration. "Oh, yknow. Just this cute guy I have a crush on, or whatever," you flirted. He rolled his eyes, still grinning to himself.
"Eat your food, dork." He looked back to the screen, and you did what you were told.
It didn't take long. You wolfed down your dinner so fast you even surprised yourself. You stood to collect your trash, and kissed the top of Jayce's head before heading to the kitchen to dispose of it properly. When you came back, he was already standing up to stretch.
"It looks good to me," he said- with his arms over his head, his obliques were in full view and it made you just about weak in the knees. "I think it's ready to submit, if you're happy with it."
You thought about re-reading it one more time- just to be sure- but your brain was so foggy with exhaustion (and maybe some arousal). You trusted Jayce's judgement, too. He'd graduated summa cum laude last year, after all. You were sure he knew what he was talking about.
"Thank you, love. I really appreciate your help." You patted his chest with a weary smile, and sat down to submit it. When you were finally able to click your laptop shut, you were just about to collapse. You looked over to find Jayce already waiting for you in bed, and he opened his arms for you.
"C'mere, you," he crooned softly. You complied, shutting off the table lamp before you crawled across the blankets to meet him. He pulled them over the two of you, pressing a gentle kiss on your forehead. You buried your face in his chest, breathing in the scent of mint and clean bedsheets. You suddenly felt self conscious, remembering you had forgotten to bathe.
You sat up. "I'm gonna take a shower real quick actually-" but he yanked you back down before you could move, burying his nose in your hair.
"Nooooo," he mumbled. "Stay with me."
"Jaaaayce," you whined, "I smell terrible. Wouldn't you rather I got cleaned up before bed?"
He didn't move, keeping you pinned between his arms. "Mmm, girl stink."
"You- what?" You sputtered, laughing at the absurdity. You tried to move, but he was already snoring softly. You couldn't tell if he was faking it or not, but you gave in anyway. You tangled your legs with his, letting his warmth overtake you and carry you to sleep at last.
#arcane#arcane fanfic#jayce talis#fanfiction#arcane jayce#jayce league of legends#jayce x reader#wattpad#writing#arcane smut#smut#Jayce wants to help#boy does he#this may or may not be based off my real life husband WHO SAID THAT
87 notes
·
View notes
Text
"I'm sure he's got nothing to do with me!" says Luffy and I was waiting for him to say it. For him to hear all of this Nika lore and declare that, nope, I don't care, I'm not Nika, I'm not a liberator. It's just such a Luffy thing to do. But I know many fans actually will be shocked with Luffy's answer here or will just dismiss it. I have seen many opinions before that Luffy was always a liberator by choice, so becoming Nika is just natural course of events for him and he will have no problem embracing his role in the bigger scheme of things. Some even complained they hate that Luffy is Nika because they don't want Luffy to be the "fated hero" but instead a "from nobody to the king of the world" trope. But nope! Luffy just noped all of this himself.
Luffy is not a liberator and he's not an altruistic hero, he doesn't go from island to island aiming to save people, and if you think he wanted to, then please remember Fishmen Island and how unhappy he was with the idea of being a hero:
And now if you think Luffy changed since then because Dressrosa happened, then please remember what he asked of Momonosuke in Wano:
Yep, that's right. Luffy still *doesn't have any interest* in becoming a hero. If you think he's alright with that and changed his mind, then you're just not paying attention to him, sorry to say that. Luffy has been pretty consistent about this too and now he declared it yet again in Elbaf. It's the third time already.
You just think it's not a big deal because he so easily changed his mind in Fishmen Island, but it happened only because he had an actual reason to do that. Jimbei promised Luffy all the meat he wants. He gave him a *personal reason* to act like a hero, which is why Luffy agreed. And he did the same in Dressrosa. He wouldn't liberate that country if he didn't get attached first to Law and Rebecca (yes, in this order), and his crew to tontattas. They always do it for someone particular, for their friends. It's the same in Wano too, Luffy's constant motivation is Tama, Momo and Kinemon. He wants them to be happy, most of all, and he even says as much when he defeats Kaido: "I want a world where all of my friends can eat as much as they like".
There, he doesn't do it altruistically because he hates oppresion and villains who thrive on pain of common people and he can't stand seeing it. Yes, he probably thinks it's unfair, but he also grew up in Goa Kingdom, the very definition of unfair regime. He saves oppressed people only when they are his friends or has some other personal interest involved. He defeats the Marine base in Shells Town for Koby (and Zoro, later). He defeats Don Krieg so he can repay his food debt to Baratie. He defeats Arlong for Nami. He fights Wapol for Chopper (who saved Nami) and who he already considers his friend because of that. He fights for the Giants (Little Garden) and Vivi (Alabasta), Conis (Skypiea), Robin (Water 7 and Enies Lobby), Brook (Thriller Bark), Hachi (Sabaody) etc. Though, he does make friends rather easily, so usually it's not that big of a deal. But he isn't going out of his way to places he reads about in the newspapers that need to be liberated, he instead cares more for his own dream. He doesn't enter a certain island with the idea in mind that goes like "if I see some injustice here, I'm gonna bring this shit down". It's the other way around. He makes friends and realizes they're unhappy.
He wants them to be happy again and to live without regrets, and that's why he brings the shit down, whatever it is that makes people he cares about feel so unhappy. Because he thinks this is at least something he can do for his friends. Luffy doesn't think he can do a lot of things, he can't do much at all, but he can do one thing: beat up a guy when needed.
He knows how regret feels like ever since he believed Sabo died, he's not gonna sit there and do nothing next time something like this happens. That's why it's so important for him, to make sure his friends are happy. And that's why he beats up people and liberates countries. It's not for justice, he simply wants his friends to be happy.
But wait a moment, Luffy also wants freedom. Yes, he does. He wants to be the King of the Pirates, because for him it means to be free. And that's how he actually speaks about Nika as well:
He wants the freedom for himself. Isn't it funny that he thinks he already achieved it though?
And before you're disgusted by how selfish Luffy actually is, hear me out: Luffy is simply not a martyr. He won't die or sacrfice himself for the world to liberate it. He will instead die for the world if he thinks that will make his friends happy. Preferably though, he would want to survive and eat that meat with them, and be happy together.
Still, if you want him to be a liberator of a whole world it is actually possible, you just need to make it personal for Luffy, like I suggested. For example, put a person or multpile people who want to save/destroy the world (whichever option you fancy) on Luffy's crew. Luffy always cares for dreams of his crewmates and will always support them (because fullfilling their dreams will make them happy), so he would become a liberator if that helps them. But he would do it for them, not for the world.
Luffy is not a hero because he has a golden heart and a strong sense of justice. He's a hero when his friends are in danger instead, because instead of a golden heart, he simply has a big heart and makes friends wherever he goes. A martyr-like hero who sacrfices himself for people without caring for his own wellbeing is noble, but it's also not a healthy mentality, believe it or not. For starters, if you never care enough for yourself and are ready to throw your life away for a concept, what will happen with people who love you and care for you? Is it fair towards them to throw your life away without caring who you're leaving behind and how they will feel about it? Do you even care then for their feelings if your pursuit of greater good is more important to you? You can save the world and make people you love sad and unhappy, and like they don't even care anymore to live, because you were the one who made them happy and now you're gone. Did you save the world for them or destroyed it for them instead, as the result?
Luffy has his own interest in saving his friends too: so he's not alone again. Humans aren't selfless beings, but it doesn't automatically make us bad people either. And sometimes, while pursuing selfish things, we do something that appear to be extremely selfless. But at the bottom of it: we also do it for themselves, even if it kills us.
Tokyo Babylon taught me that every act is selfish, even if it appears like we do it for someone else: we simply want to feel better about ourselves then. There's nothing wrong with that, as long as we don't lose the sight of other people's feelings on our way. We can always share, after all, and that sharing is the bridge between the lone islands that people are.
Luffy, if he dies, will also say, just like Seishiro: "I didn't do it for you. I did everything by my own choice". For myself. Despite the fact it is also true he does it to make his friends happy. Being selfish and being selfless is like two sides of the same coin and both choices can end up actually hurting people. In the first case, because you care too much about yourself and too little about feelings of others, and in second case because you care too little about yourself and still too little about feelings of people that love and care for you. Can you spot the thing in common here?
#one piece#luffy#Luffy is not a hero#give him that meat he deserves it#but he wants to make his friends happy#one piece 1136#one piece spoilers#very slight spoilers though#one piece meta#monkey d. luffy#monkey d luffy#tokyo babylon#altruism#paradox of altruism#psychology#one piece chapter commentary#commentary about the full chapter will appear later this was just becoming too long so it became a seperate post
57 notes
·
View notes
Text
bewitched
In which: Reo begins to feel different, excited after meeting you. You weren't anything special or different, but there was something about the way you carried yourself that drew him to you. He found himself entranced, even speechless in your presence. You bewitched him. wc: 1.9k
(Just a quick note, reader likes matcha and listening to music. Sorry if its too specific, I needed something to work with)
Now playing...
Bewitched by Laufey
Reo Mikage never wanted anything, he already had everything he wanted. Nothing excited him anymore, at least since Nagi.
He walks out of the locker rooms after practice, walking down the hallway and up to the front courtyard, rubbing his hands in response to the biting cold before walking up to where his car was waiting for him. Lost in thought, he bumps into someone.
"OH! I'm so sorry are you alright!?"
He stopped, has he met you before?
You stood there in front of him, bundled up in the school uniform.
"I'm alright! Are you okay? I'm the one who ran into you". he says with the signature toothy smile.
"I'm okay! I wasn't watching where I was going anyways". You laughed.
He felt a warm feeling in his face, and his stomach. He laughed with you before saying bye to you. He thought you were the cutest thing ever.
"It was nice to meet you! I'll see you around!" You said before running to your bus stop. He waved in your direction before realizing he never asked for your name.
Yeah, see you around
Reo Mikage didn't get excited anymore, or at least he thought he didn't. Ever since your interaction he's felt...different. He didn't realize that he would eagerly wait for you outside your classes, not even to talk just to smile, wave and pass by. If he had you in his class, he'd stare at the back of your head. He would walk different routes just to see your face. For the past two weeks, he has collected the following information about you.
You were a scholarship student
You liked loved matcha
You always have an earbud in
You were kind, very kind
You used the public transportation
He felt a bit weird writing this down, he had it saved in his notes app and locked with a password.
"Reo what are you doing?"
Saying his soul jumped out of his body is an understatement.
"Nagi! Don't scare me like that!" he exclaimed, while profusely sweating.
"Why are you stalking the scholarship student?"
Reo paled.
"Who? There's a scholarship student? Never heard of her"
Nice save!
"How did you know she was a girl?" Nagi questioned with a straight face.
If Reo could dig a hole in the ground and die in it, he would.
"I can explain I swear..."
The private academy you attended was posh, extra.
Having a cafe, three gyms, a food court and dozens of courtyards, there isn't a word other than extra to describe it.
You loved it though. Walking around the hallways with an airpod in your ear, you stop by what had to be your favorite place. The cafe.
You walked in, greeted your friend (and barista) Rumi.
She was around 21 years old, interning for the school just for fun, she likes the 'ambience' of the place. She graduated from the school around three years ago, and just like you, was a scholarship student. She just understood you like no one else at the school did.
"Hi Rumi! How have you been?"
"Hi [name]! I've been pretty okay, y'know same old." She clicks a few buttons before looking back up to you.
"¥1339.66"
You blinked twice before smiling.
"I didn't even order yet."
Rumi looks at you unamused.
"I already know what you're going to order, the last year you've been here, you've ordered the same thing, a medium hot matcha latte with frothed milk and one order of six macarons." She deadpans.
You smile at her and laugh under your breath before handing her your rewards card.
You take the receipt from Rumi and start to walk towards your usual table. The one by the window with the bulletin board right in your view. You liked looking at that bulletin board, it carried the memories of the past and current students. It held value.
As you walk toward the table, you can't help but notice that its already taken
Usually when you see someone sitting there, you just move to another table nearby. But this specific person, piqued your interest.
"Hi Nagi! I didn't know you were going to be here." You said cheerfully.
Nagi looked up at you and just said, "Hi [name]" in the same mellow tone.
Reo has never been so confused in his entire life. Did Nagi know you? Were you and Nagi dating? Why are you guys so comfortable with each other.
You looked at the other boy, in reality you only walked up there for him.
"I know you! I met you earlier in the courtyards! You're Reo right? I always see you on the way to my classes."
If heaven is a feeling, Reo was feeling it. You knew his name, obviously you did, everyone did, but you called him by his name. Not the one he's known by. Not Mikage.
You called him Reo.
"Oh hi! Yeah I remember you, I meant to ask your name that day, [name] right?"
He's acting cool, but in reality, the sweat pooling in his hands are probably leaving marks on his pants. Especially since he was just talking to Nagi, about you.
He's acting cool, and you can see right through it.
"[name] you should sit with us". Nagi mumbled.
You gave an appreciative look and mouthed thank you to him before you smiled and sat down.
"If you don't mind me asking, how do you know each other?" Reo interjected.
Nagi glanced at you before replying.
"We live in the same complex, we live next to each other, she brings me food."
You rolled your eyes.
"Because you eat like a toddler, I don't know how you haven't died of malnutrition yet." You commented, with a clear humorous undertone.
Reo could tell you guys were decently close, Nagi doesn't keep contact with someone unless he thinks they're not a hassle. He knows that your relationship with Nagi is anything but romantic, or rather he was counting on it not being romantic.
You looked at him, curious eyes lingering on him, his hair, his demeanor. He looked like a typical rich kid, but there was something about him that you couldn't quite place. He didn't seem like the usual 'high and mighty' type. He was genuine.
"Reo what classes do we have together?" you asked him, hoping he knew off the top of his head. Hoping he's also thinking about you.
Instantaneously, Reo responded.
"Oh, we have Chemistry, English, Music theory, and Econ." he smiled.
God he smiled.
To say you weren't internally giggling and kicking your feet would be a lie.
"We should sit together! It would be nice to work with a friendly face."
Reo felt his face turn hot, he hasn't even spoken to you that long, so why do you have this effect on him?
"Yeah of course! We have Econ after study hall, so I can move up to your desk." He beamed. You stared at one another for a bit, not because you're creepy, but because looking away didn't feel right.
"Can I take a macaron?"
Nagi interrupting at the worst time.
He took the macaron off your plate and ate it in one bite, expression not changing at all.
You and Reo looked at each other with the same look, before you burst out laughing.
...
After the bell for end of study hall rang, you and Reo walked to Econ together. Talking so casually, like you've known each other for years.
Reo could get used to this.
The following three weeks consisted of you and Reo, walking together, talking for hours, facetiming, and study dates sessions. You looked forward to his bright purple eyes pulling you away at any given moment, the laughs you shared, the smiles he gave you, you wanted to take it and store it for safekeeping. He wanted to listen to your laugh forever, the only music he would ever want to listen to.
He was utterly mesmerized by you.
And you were utterly mesmerized with him.
But, you were starting to give up hope, did he not want to be with you? Are you just friends?
And he was internally dying, what if you said no? what if he was reading this all wrong?
He learned how to make matcha for you, so many failed attempts he doesn't even really know what it tastes like anymore.
15 attempts.
Thats how many times he's tried to ask you out, but he ends up chickening out, or he can't find the right timing.
The sharpie ink on the matcha cup smeared, or the pickup line was lame or he just kept stumbling over his words.
It was Friday afternoon, you were on the bus going home. Earbuds in, dnd on and zoned out. You didn't realize it was raining until the bus made its final stop to your building. You ran straight out the bus and under the shade in front of the lobby as fast as you could, still wet but it was worth a shot. You go up to the third floor, and unlock your door. No one was home, so you decided to take a nap. All was well until you hear knocking on your door, getting more frantic as time progresses. You shot up, who would be knocking at your door? At 9 PM? You grab a rolling pin from the kitchen and approach the door. You opened the door and...
Reo?
What was he doing here? And why is he out of breath? And he's dripping water.
"Reo is something wron-"
"Wait, please listen before I chicken out again."
You went silent, what could this be about?
"Okay uhm, so how do I say this..."
He pauses.
"I can't stop thinking about you, everything I do everything guides my thoughts back to you. It's like you've casted a spell on me. Im in trance when i'm with you, i'm in a trance when i think about you. I don't know what to do..."
You froze.
Finally.
You couldn't help but smile, something in your chest bubbled with that warm melted feeling.
You paused before finally saying.
"If you don't know what to do...let me give you an idea."
You kissed him, short and sweet with a smile on your face, waiting for him to do anything.
He pulled you into a warm embrace, the water from his hair and shirt bleeding into yours. You two stood like that for a bit, before you pull away and look up at him.
He's looking right back down, eyes flickering at the features on your face.
Standing under the light he looked ethereal, stunning, you couldn't believe what you were seeing.
He stared into your eyes deeply one more time before going down for a deep kiss.
Gentle.
Thats how to describe it.
He held you as if you were fragile, as if you would crumble right before him.
When you pull apart he looks into your eyes, finally asking you.
"Will you be mine?"
Reo Mikage never wanted anything, except you.
xoxo, august
#reo mikage#nagi seishiro#reo mikage x reader#reo x reader#reo mikage x you#blue lock#bllk x reader#bllk#bllk x you#matcha#nagi x reader
48 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hello!
So I had the idea of a festive whump, deer centaur whumpee being kiddnapped by rich Whumper for their Christmas party to show of to their guests. Bonus if Whumpee has never left their forest before and is suddenly forced into this new unfamiliar, loud, bright, crowded, indoors environment. Oh and could you please make both whumpee and Whumper female please?
Thanks!
I am really sorry this didn't get posted around Christmas, but we can still enjoy a festive party.
Shackles dug into her ankles as she stepped forward and back a few step. It was uncomfortable. She couldn't stop moving around though. It's what she did when she was nervous.
"I miss my forest, I would give anything to run through the trees again. What is this place?"
Chains jingled like bells as she continually stepped back and forth. It reminded her of a song her father taught her.
"Hmm...hm..uh..hmm", Whumpee hummed the tune to help her calm down.
"My hooves are killing me, but I can't lay down", Whumpee looked down at their four hooves, "I wish I knew what I was needed for."
A sound happened.
It was comparable to the sound of wind gushing through the forest.
Whumpee blinked in the new light.
There was a crowd... staring at them. The group gasped.
"Behold my newest decoration for this party. I know we didn't get to have our annual holiday party, as I was away, but I hope this beautiful piece will make up for it", someone spoke beside Whumpee.
Whumpee stood in shock... this was their captor.
"There is no way that thing is real Whumper", someone chuckled from the crowd, "who did you pay... it looks so real."
"It is real. I found it while on my walk. I hunted her down last night", Whumper grinned.
Whumpee backed away as far as the shackles would allow.
"Please come, marvel at her. She is quite a beautiful beast. A deer centaur is a very rare being in deed", Whumper welcomed a few of her guest to come closer.
"Please don't come near me", Whumpee pleaded, "where am I?"
"Poor thing looks terrified", someone commented, "what will you do with them after this."
"They'll be my pet", Whumper chuckled as she lifted her glass in cheers.
Whumpee covered her ears as glass clanked together.
"Happy late holidays to all of you", Whumper cheered gleefully.
Whumpee winced as the loud sounds continued.
They weren't use to this much noise. Everyone was talking around them. The sounds of everyone walking. Constantly feeling everyone poking at them.
"Please, I-I want to go home", Whumpee finally sobbed loudly.
People continue to touch them. Pure amazement written on their face.
Whumpee jumps up and bucks their legs around causing the chains to jingle like bells.
"Such pretty music", Whumper cooes, "but if you don't stop.... I'll make you sing a different song. It will be of pain and misery. Got it?"
Whumpee cuddled her arms close to her body. She nervously nodded at the captor.
"Good pet", Whumper cooed again.
"I can't believe you found such a beast, and brought it here. What will it eat?"
"Eat?... I guess I haven't thought that far", Whumper giggles.
"You haven't fed her yet.. poor thing. To be captured by the most careless of us rich folks", someone chuckles.
"Are you hungry?", Whumper mocks, "hmm, what do you even eat?"
"I-I'm omnivorous, I-I can eat anything", Whumpee whispers, "I-I'm thirsty."
"How long have they been like this?", the friend actually sounded concerned now.
"A while, don't worry. They are just fine. Let's move on to our meal. I believe the table is ready", Whumper watched as a butler entered the room.
The concerned friend hung back and looked at Whumpee sadly.
Whumpee shivered as they stared back.
"You are about to be very expensive, aren't you", they sighed, "but I'm not leaving you here with Whumper. I already know what happens to their pets."
"Sir, the table is ready", a butler called to them.
"Yeah, yeah, will you bring me a cup of water?", they ordered.
Whumpee's expression turned to a more curious one.
"My name is Caretaker", they gently handed the cup to Whumpee and watched them quickly gulp the water down.
"Caretaker what's taking you so long", Whumper sauntered out.
"How much?", Caretaker sighed.
"What?", Whumper laughed.
"Don't play dumb", Caretaker frowned, "how much to take her off your hands?"
"She's not for sale", Whumper grinned playfully.
"Ymhmm, so I don't suppose me having some entirely embarrassing information about you would change that", Caretaker grinned mischievously, "I'm sure your party guest would enjoy."
"You wouldn't", Whumper frowned.
"I would though... how much? My lips are sealed", Caretaker grinned.
"Not fair", Whumper chuckled, "you know how to play my game better than anyone."
"Yes, well, I've had to play it too many times", Caretaker sighed.
Whumpee looked back and forth while they both talked.
Caretaker gently rubbed some ointment on Whumpee's legs.
"Those shackles were dug in deep", Caretaker frowned at the wounds, "how did she even manage? Whumper barely lifts a finger, and yet she managed to get you."
"I-I was just... uhm", Whumpee hurried to explain.
Caretaker smiled weakly as they brought out a blanket.
"It doesn't matter... at least not right now it doesn't", Caretaker looked them over as they unfolded the blanket, "are you comfortable."
"Yes sir", Whumpee nodded, "thankyou for taking care of me. I really appreciate everything."
"You're welcome. You definitely weren't wrong when you said you'd eat anything. You were definitely hungry", Caretaker covered them up.
"I wasn't planning on bringing a centaur home tonight. We will get you a little more comfortable tomorrow. I'm afraid this is the best accommodations I can give right now."
"But my forest?", Whumpee whispered, "that's my home."
"Whumper will come and fine you again. Or they can follow you and find others. If there are any others of your species", Caretaker sighed, "unfortunately I believe we are both stuck in this situation. I promise to take care of you. You will be treated well here. You can't go home yet."
Whumpee stared at him sadly. They blinked away some tears.
"I am very sorry that I had to tell you that sweetheart", Caretaker gently patted them, "I promise, you will be alright. I'll take care of you, and I'll keep you safe."
Whumpee nodded and looked over themself, "thankyou again for caring for me. I'm sorry you had to though."
"Don't be sorry. You had no control over what happened", Caretaker smiled comfortingly, "try to get some rest. We will get you a little more comfortable tomorrow."
Caretaker woke up to the sound of crying.
They jumped out of bed and hurried from their room and down the hall.
"Whumpee, what's... happening?", Caretaker saw that Whumpee had hidden behind a curtain several staff members stood nearby awkwardly holding cameras and phones.
"My guest is not to be an item of entertainment. All of you delete the pictures you just took. Legal action will be taken if any pictures get out. Form a line right here to show me the deletions", Caretaker pointed at the floor.
Whumpee peaked out from behind the curtain and watched the line form. They sniffled a few times before hiding back behind the curtain.
Caretaker sighed as the last picture was deleted.
"Now I am aware that Whumpee is a little different than the rest of us. But they are to be treated with respect. Terrible things have been done to them. I will not allow my home to continue their trauma. Am I clear?", Caretaker looked over his staff.
"Yes sir", they all spoke in unison.
"Carry on with your duties then", Caretaker dismissed them.
Caretaker slowly approaches the shaking curtain.
Whumpee shyly lifts one of their legs.
"Whumpee, it's just me", Caretaker gently pulls the curtain aside, "it's alright, sweetheart."
Whumpee shyly looks at Caretaker, "I-I'm sorry...."
"You have nothing to apologize for", Caretaker pulls them close, "I'm sorry they did that. I'm sorry for everything that you are going through. You do not deserve any of this."
Whumpee whimpers as they awkwardly rest their face into the crook or Caretaker's neck.
Caretaker feels just how shaken up Whumpee was.
"You're trembling Sweetheart ", Caretaker sighs, "here, let's get you a better setup. We will have breakfast first and you can pick what room you like. You can tell me exactly what you need in your room to be comfortable."
"Y-you already spent so much on me. I couldn't ask for you to give me anything else", Whumpee whispered.
"Let me worry about the financial situation. I want you to be comfortable", Caretaker thumbs away a tear, "it's alright. It's not a problem at all."
Whumpee looks at them with bright, watery eyes.
"I promise. Everything is alright", Caretaker smiles comfortingly, "you will be safe here. You have my word."
Taglist. As always please let me know if you want to be added or taken off of the list. It's not a problem at all.
@villainsandheroes @the-beasts-have-arrived
@sacredwrath @porschethemermaid
@monarchthefirst @generic-whumperz
@bloodyandfrightened @freefallingup13
@notpeppermint @cyborg0109
@idontreallyexistyet @painfulplots
@whumpbump @everythingsscary
@skittles-the-whumpee @expressionless-fr
@theforeverdyingperson @legendarydelusiongoatee
@candleshopmenace @whumpanthems
@lavndvrr @ivymyers
@starfields08000 @a-living-canvas
@lumpofsand @watermeezer
@indigoviolet311 @whumpy-mountains
@risk606 @electrons2006
@paperprinxe @whumprince
@kaz-of-crows @mis-graves
@decaffeinatedtimetraveler94 @sausages-things
@isikedmyself878 @daffyduckcommittedtaxfraud
@valravnthefrenchie @glennemerald
@jasperthecapser @does-directions
@deafeninglittlecrown @jumpywhumpywriter
@blackbirdsinatrenchcoat @mylifeisonthebookshelf
@thenormalestever @whatwhump
@galatic-worm @starmoon-constellation
@bacillusinfection @whumpsandbumps
@tobiasbones @octopus-reactivated
@string-of-broken-hearts @weirdthingweee
@kawaii-cakes @phoenixpromptsandstuff
#whump community#whump ask#whump stuff#whump writing#whump ideas#whump scenario#whump#whumper#whumpee#centaur#deer centaur#deer centaur Whumpee#caretaker#caretaker and whumpee#caretaking#oc
24 notes
·
View notes
Note
I just wanted to ask if you could make headcanons about being in a relationship with Pietro (I don't remember if I already asked for that, and I'm sorry if I did, I'm not rushing you 😭😭), and another one with Sergai? It doesn't matter if it takes a while, I totally understand, and thank you for all your fics, I love them 💖💖💖
~ i hope you like this, darling 🫶 been on a tiny bit of a writers block so this headcanon list was a good thing to write! ~
• with Pietro, friends to lovers is the only way!
• he has trouble with his feelings. he has trouble understanding them because he becomes overwhelmed and so in the beginning, it's difficult.
• plus, he has trauma so loving someone else is hard for him— he doesn't like the possibility of loosing you like he lost his parents.
• so being your friend, becoming your best friend, is the first step!
• his love language is physical touch and quality time! He always has to be touching you in some way (his hand in yours, playing with your hair…) and he loves planning days out around the city with you!
• Pietro is very loving and he's also funny. he adores making you laugh and he'd do anything in his power to make you laugh when you're sad or crying or hurt (to distract you from the pain).
• once he's your boyfriend, the quality time becomes more domestic. he tries less—and not in a bad way. he's comfortable just laying around, reading or watching a show, and it's as good as planning a whole day like he used to (he would get himself worked up, the poor boy).
• when he does take you on dates, he goes all out now! He knows all your favorite things because he is observant so he'll take you to your favorite restaurant unprompted!
• Pietro's favorite way to spoil you is by doing things for you! He's very in tune with your emotions once he'd finally dating you!
• he never forgets an anniversary or a birthday, although you're worried he does because he's always spacey and all over the place 🥺 but he keeps a calendar specifically for your events, nothing else lmao.
• you and Wanda being friends is VERY important.
• he adores you and teaches you how to say things in Sokovian! he always teaches you about his culture and his traditions. it would take a while for him to open up, but once he does he doesn't hold back.
• he trusts you easily and he isn't jealous. he hates when other men flirt with you, but he is never jealous because he knows you are his and his alone!
• he is very protective over you though! like no one hurts his girl. ever.
* * *
warnings: mentions of sex
• i think the courting before the relationship would be involuntary stalker-ish 😭
• like he's obsessed with you. he can smell you everywhere! maybe he met you when he was visiting his brother in London and he hasn't stopped thinking about you and only you.
• for the first few months you don't even meet him and yet he's just there—watching. making sure you're safe.
• he never does anything weird or breach your privacy in ways that would make you hate him, he's just like your guardian angel 😏
• when he does talk to you, you're instantly intrigued. he's rugged and handsome and unlike any man you've ever met. you like him.
• your relationship starts with sex. you bring him to your apartment and have intense, weirdly passionate for someone you just met, sex.
• when you wake up, he's gone. but eventually he comes back with a pastry from a nearby shop and your relationship starts.
• Sergei is good at reading you and knowing what you're feeling without you needing to speak or ask him. he just knows.
• he visits London more than necessary to spend time with you, letting you be the second person on his phone 🥺
• he waits to tell you what he does for work. he doesn't want to scare you or make you feel unsafe.
• you are safe. you always are with him.
• once you know and you accept him for who he is, Sergei is wrapped around your pinky until you let him go. he would do anything for you.
• he has trust issues so whenever he starts an argument, it's because he was feeling a little insecure and didn't know how to bring up his feelings. his father never let him.
• he's never violent with you but he does yell in the beginning. which scares you, so he quickly learns to leave for a walk to calm down instead.
• you promise him that you aren't leaving him. he loves words of affirmation. he needs them because he hasn't heard many of them from his father.
• he's very gentle with you normally, touching you as if you are something to be worshiped. which he does. he worships you.
• his love language is gift giving. whenever he is away, he will always brings you back a present from his home in the woods. and it's always thoughtful.
• he will teach you some words in Russian and call you pet names in Russian.
• eventually, he asks you to move in with him. you're unsure because living in the woods is scary and you are afraid you'll miss your friends and family.
• Sergei doesn't force you. he tells you you don't have to decide immediately but he really wishes you will. but he's not forceful. he gives you time and he waits.
• when you decide you want to live with him eventually. and you don't regret it. Sergei is very devoted to you (he is very protective over you, duh). he also brings you back to London wherever you want, no hesitation.
#headcanons#pietro maximoff#pietro maximoff headcanons#pietro maximoff x fem!reader#pietro maximoff x reader#pietro maximoff age of ultron#marvel#pietro maximoff fluff#sergei kravinoff#sergei kravinoff x fem!reader#sergei kravinoff x reader#sergei kravinoff kraven the hunter#kraven the hunter#marvel kraven the hunter#kraven the hunter x fem!reader#kraven the hunter x reader
37 notes
·
View notes
Text
@mischievouslittlecreature fantastic chapter, Lily 😍!
I'm sorry I'm getting so behind on reading 😩. I've currently got a nasty case of bronchitis that won't fuck off 😭, so forgive me if my comments on this chapter don't make much sense.
He nodded. “There was a message pinned to it. Look down on earth and see the seeds you have sown,” he shook his head. I love how the title of this chapter echoes that pinned note. You're so clever at connecting everything together.
He closed his mouth, eyes narrowing down at her. “You’re so bloody stubborn, you know that?” But there was no bite in his words. If anything, he just sounded very, very tired. Lucy touched his chin delicately. He didn't really think she'd listen to him did he 😅? Poor baby, I couldn't help but notice how tired he was in this exchange too. He sounded like he was stating facts more than having a conversation with her 😔.
Together, they sat, listening to the shrill squeaks and squeals of Charlie’s violin. All the while trepidation sank deeper and deeper into their bones. Although the image of Tommy having to sit and listen to the screeching noises of Charlie's violin always makes me giggle, I've never really looked at this scene and it's deeper meaning until your descriptions. They're constantly trying to simultaneously keep up some normality for Charlie's sake, all while internally losing their minds with stress with everything going on. I wonder if they both ever ask themselves if it's all worth it?
“She likes the life, ey? Well, find one that hates it. Look at him,” Tommy gestured to Arthur. “That’s what he did, and now he’s chairman of the board.” I never really understood what Tommy meant when he said this. Seems pretty counterproductive coming from a gangster 😂. But I can definitely see why Lucy picked up on this comment in particular. She's already pretty fragile when it comes to her own self worth in Tommy's life, and she has a tendency to pick apart small remarks like this until she's convinced herself that Tommy doesn't want her 😩.
How could he not fall in love with Lizzie? She was sweet, beautiful, the mother of his child, and he had known her for years. It's interesting how Lucy only ever points out Lizzie's nicer qualities. Because those far and few between positive aspects of her are often completely buried under the hatred Lizzie shows 😬.
Once that happened, she would be done for. Because when Tommy loved someone, really loved them, like he did her and Grace, he would do anything for them. Why can she never see herself in this equation too 😭? I know he often fucks up when it comes to noticing Lucy's need for reassurance, but I fear she'll never fully see how much he loves her. And I feel like this is only going to get worse as the series continues 😬.
Lucy snorted. As if Michael had any reason to be mad after he’d just lost all their fucking money. Ha, exactly Lucy! Urghh I loathe him.
I love how you explored what Polly would potentially have felt about the situation if things did continue to get worse while she was still there. Because as much as Tommy and Lucy are right about Michael,and as much I think Polly would have agreed with them, there is no fucking way she'd let Tommy take him out. I get the impression that Tommy really doesn't give out second chances to people he's not romantically involved in.
Loved this chapter, hun. I'm eager to see Lucy and Gina's interactions in the next parts 😬!
Part 26: Do You Love Me
Summary: Tommy and Lucy begin to suspect Michael of a far worse betrayal than what happened on the stock market.
Word Count: 6,076
Warnings: Violence and insecurity.
Previous Chapter • Series • Fic • Next Chapter
Chapter 4: The Seeds You Have Sown
Lucy rubbed at her eyes with the heel of one hand as she descended the stairs sluggishly. The house was always disconcertingly quiet in the mornings. Even more so with Lizzie and Ruby gone. Normally she got up with Tommy, which helped to cloak over some of the eeriness that the huge house exuded in the early hours. Especially in her dark, isolated wing of the mansion.
But this morning she had woken up alone. Well, the second time she woke up, she was alone. The first time she had stirred at movement beside her, rolling over with an arm seeking out Tommy’s space beside her in the bed only to find it empty.
“Go back to sleep, love,” he had said, large hand passing over the top of her head. Rather than laying beside her, he was sitting on the edge of the mattress, already mostly dressed.
“Mm. Why aren’t you here?” she complained, patting the spot next to her, even as she nuzzled back down into his pillow.
“There’s something I need to go check. Won’t be long.”
“Want me to come?”
“No, sweetheart, just go back to sleep,” he kissed the top of her head.
She drifted in and out for awhile after that, but it was hard to find true sleep without him there. Finally, she’d risen out of bed with a sigh, yawning and stretching and slouching her way over to the wardrobe to pull on her clothes for the day.
Dressed and at least half awake, she was just making her way to the dining room in the hopes of finding a warm breakfast waiting for her when Charlie came exploding in through the front door. His shoes clattered loudly on the floor as he raced towards her.
“Lucy! Dad wants you,” he skidded to a halt, nearly colliding with her. “He’s outside in the garden.”
“Charlie, what–”
“Miss. Winters, there was a phone call for Mr. Shelby’s office phone that he just missed,” Frances appeared to her left. “And Mrs. Milligan is here for Charles’s violin practice.”
Who the fuck has violin practice this early in the morning?
“Alright, um, Charlie, you go with Frances to your lesson–”
“He said I’m to play extra loudly today,” Charlie giggled. “Because there might be some bangs outside. Do you know why, Lucy?”
Her blood went cold, eyes snapping to the windows. Suddenly wide awake. She looked back at Charlie, forcing what she hoped was a reassuring smile to pull at her lips. “Yes, Charlie. I think I do. You said that he’s in the garden, did you?”
Charlie nodded.
“Right,” she turned to Frances, who had gone a little pale. “Where’s the teacher?”
“In the drawing room.”
“Charlie, go with Frances to see Mrs. Milligan. Frances, keep everyone inside until we get back.”
“Yes, Miss. Winters.” Frances took Charlie by the hand, quickly leading him away. Lucy waited until they’d gone before running to the cupboard in which they kept a small artillery. She snatched up a tommy gun, some extra ammo, and raced outside.
She found Tommy seated on the grass by the barren fields, smoking and rubbing at his face with hands smeared with dirt.
“What’s happened?” she asked, hooking the strap of the submachine gun over her shoulder. Her eyes darted around wildly, searching for any signs of danger but finding none. Until her gaze landed on the middle of the field, where a scarecrow was erected on a wooden cross. Lucy stared at it, breath catching in her throat.
They didn’t have a scarecrow in the field. Not at this time of year, anyway. There was no point when there wasn’t anything planted in it anyway.
If she squinted she could make out that it was dressed in clothes eerily similar to Tommy’s daily attire: a dark coat, trousers, waistcoat, and white button down shirt, with a pocket watch dangling from its neck that glinted in the sun, and a peaky cap a top its burlap head.
Tommy looked up at her with bleary eyes, chest heaving up and down.
“There are landmines in the field.”
“What!?”
He nodded, gesturing with his cigarette towards the scarecrow mounted in the center of the barren stretch of mud. “All around the scarecrow. Fucking miracle that I didn’t step on one.”
“You went out there?”
He nodded. “There was a message pinned to it. Look down on earth and see the seeds you have sown,” he shook his head.
“Fuck,” she looked out at the field, watching whisps of white mist float across it.
“In our own fucking garden, Lucy.”
“Yeah.” Already, her mind had begun to work. Who? Who would do such a thing? They were not lacking for enemies, but she struggled to immediately think of any who would be so bold as to do something like this right under their noses.
“Charlie almost stepped on them. He came running onto the field to get me. If I hadn’t grabbed him in time…” Tommy trailed off, shoulders shuddering. Lucy’s lips parted, eyes widening. A sick feeling twisted in her stomach at the thought of what could have happened to their sweet boy. A hand went to his shoulder, clapping onto it both for stability and in an attempt to offer comfort.
Distantly, from within the mansion, she could hear the sounds of a violin starting to play. She closed her eyes against the sound. Normally, she wasn’t particularly taken with Charlie’s violin playing. Often she caught herself wishing he’d chosen a less…shrill instrument to learn. Like the piano or even the harp. But today, she relished in the shriek and squeaks of the bow against the strings.
“He’s okay,” she said, to Tommy and to herself.
“Yeah.” He heaved out a massive sign, head bowing. She rubbed back and forth across his shoulder, feeling the tension in his muscles even through the material of his coat and the shirt he had on underneath.
“What do you want to do about the mines?”
“We need to take care of them,” he heaved himself to his feet, “so no one risks getting their leg blown off if they step out there.”
“Alright,” she unhooked the strap of her gun from where it was secured on her shoulder. “Should I shoot at the ground from over here, or…?” “No. They’re only around the scarecrow. I think.”
“You think?”
“If there were ones anywhere else in the field, I’m pretty sure there would be bits of me scattered all over the garden by now.”
She cringed at the mental image, heart twisting upwards into her throat. “Don’t joke about that.”
He looked over at her, saw the expression on her face, and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, kissing the top of her head. “Sorry.” He reached for the machine gun clutched her hands, but she pulled it away.
“What are you doing?”
“Well…I need…” he had enough foresight to look sheepish at what he was implying.
“I’m not letting you walk back out there alone.”
“Luces, please…”
“No! I’m not just going to stand here and watch you get blown up.”
“It’ll be fine–”
“Then you should have no problem with me coming with you.”
He closed his mouth, eyes narrowing down at her. “You’re so bloody stubborn, you know that?” But there was no bite in his words. If anything, he just sounded very, very tired. Lucy touched his chin delicately.
“Look who’s talking.”
A ghost of a smile danced on his lips for a second. “You really would rather risk getting blown up with me than just wait right here?”
“Yes,” she said, without even a moment’s hesitation. His eyes softened, and he didn’t even need to say anything for her to know that she’d won.
“Alright, then,” he sighed, looking back towards the scarecrow. “Just stick close to me, yeah?”
“Yeah.”
Through the mist, Lucy could just make out the outline of another tommy gun laying on its side in the mud. He must have dropped it in his haste to get Charlie out of the field.
“Come on.”
She followed him towards the gate that led out into the rows of soft, damp earth. She was careful to stay behind him and follow the path he cut through the mud, since he knew where the landmines were. He scooped up his gun where it lay on the ground, shaking dark tendrils from his fringe that had fallen forward out of his eyes. Immediately, he started firing upon the scarecrow. He emptied an entire magazine into it before coming to a halt, releasing the magazine drum to let it go tumbling to the ground, sliding a second one into its place with a click. Lucy’s finger found the trigger of her own gun, raising it once she came to a stop at his side. Squinting at the dirt around the scarecrow, she squeezed her finger around the trigger.
The ground around the scarecrow erupted, dark soil and boiling flames exploding with a furious blaze into the sky. They were standing close enough for Lucy to feel the heat from the explosions on her face and smell the charred scent of smoke and burst metal.
The explosions came one after the other as they swept the ground with bullets, setting off landmine after landmine, each bursting in its own mini inferno.
And then all was quiet.
Black smoke roiled upwards, rolling over itself, momentarily blotting out the sun above them before being broken apart by the wind.
“You think that was all of them?” Lucy asked, lowering her weapon, glancing over to see Tommy doing the same.
“Yeah. We’ll have to dig them up later.”
“Not now?”
He shook his head. “Charlie said that there was a phone call for me.”
“Yeah. To your office phone. Do you think it has anything to do with this?”
“Maybe.”
Mist danced around their ankles while he started to lead the way back to the house. She eyed him as they walked side by side. His entire face was pinched with stress, shoulders wound ever tighter than usual.
Michael was supposed to be coming back today. She knew that Tommy had been dreading the day; the tension within him seeming to build more and more as the date grew closer.
Not that she could blame him. She felt it too; that sense of deep, approaching dread building in her stomach, hairs on the back of her arms standing on end, alarm bells blaring in her ears that danger was approaching.
Once they were inside, she took a quick detour to lock both of their guns back up in the artillery cupboard before meeting him in his office. He was already on the phone when she slipped in, cocking it slightly when she came over to stand next to him so she could hear static crackling through the receiver, and then the buzz of the line ringing.
Whoever was on the other end picked up, and for just a second, she heard Michael’s voice before it was silenced. And then an Irish lilt filtered through the receiver, the voice introducing herself Captain Swing. Lucy’s brows pinched, stomach twisting into knots as Swing explained that Michael had been caught onboard the ship he’d taken from America, in his cabin making deals with men in Belfast who wanted Tommy dead. In the background, Lucy could hear the faint sounds of Michael’s voice, screaming that Swing was lying.
Swing offered that she could have Michael killed then and there, or she could send him home for them to deal with. Tommy chose the latter.
At Swing’s revelation that Michael was discussing with their enemies how they’d divide up the racetracks after they’d blown away Tommy’s legs, Lucy froze.
That was a very specific way of wording things. And a very specific type of death.
Her eyes shifted to the windows, looking out at the misty field. Despite the mines they’d detonated around it, the scarecrow was still standing on its cross, the wind ruffling its clothes.
How did she know about the mines?
Either what Swing was saying was true, and Michael had been in on the planting of them, or Swing herself had been involved in some way.
“What the fuck,” Lucy said, soon as he’d put the phone down. Tommy looked as if he were seconds away from a stress-induced stroke, turning his back to the room to instead stare out the window while lighting a cigarette. “Do you really think…?” “I don’t know,” he shook his head, voice dropping to a whisper. “I don’t fucking know.”
It wouldn’t be entirely out of the realm of possibility for Michael to betray them. He’d done it before, during the vendetta. But at least then he’d had the excuse of choosing loyalty towards Polly over Tommy.
“Fucking kid…” the shock was beginning to give way to rage. “We should never have taken him back in.” If it weren’t for them, he’d be some boring accountant, probably for a firm in London somewhere. Or maybe still trapped in that little village that he hated so much. How fucking dare he try to move against them? “He’ll be in Liverpool soon. Assuming that Swing actually lets him go and he doesn’t try to run. I could go to the station and assess him. Find out if anything that Swing said was true.”
“No.”
She opened her mouth to argue, but Tommy put a gentle hand on her arm, drawing her in closer to his side.
“I think that if either of us were to see him right now, we might kill him on the spot. I’ll send Polly and Arthur to pick him up.”
“He might not even show.”
“Then we’ll have our answer.” He lifted his cigarette to his lips, movements slow.
“Even if Polly and Arthur clear him, I think we should quarantine him for a while. Just to be safe.”
Tommy nodded. “I’ll have him and the American girl he’s bringing with him put up at the Midland.”
“Good idea.” The Midland belonged to them. All eyes and ears employed within its walls were theirs. Every phone call, every activity, even every fucking thing that Michael ate would be reported to them.
“And have some of our boys see what they can find on this Captain Swing and her people.”
“Will do.”
There was the click of heels against the floor outside, and then a few rapid knocks on the door. Tommy’s chest heaved with his sigh, lifting a hand to scratch at his brow.
“Come,” he called, voice gruff, not turning from where he was still staring out the windows. His voice sounded very far away, and Lucy knew that he was currently locked within his own head, turning each and every possibility over and over in his mind. She inched a little closer to him, and when his arm draped around her shoulders, she looped her own around his waist, hoping that the warm press of her body against his side would help to soothe him.
Frances came in, bringing with her inquiries from the violin teacher about the bangs she’d heard. Tommy waved away her concerns with an explanation of testing fireworks. One glance at the housekeeper’s face, and Lucy could tell that she didn’t believe him for even a second, but knew better than to pry.
“Also, will Mrs. Shelby and Ruby be home for dinner tonight?” she asked instead.
“I don’t know.”
Lucy looked down, feeling the all too familiar pang of guilt wash through her. They’d had next to no contact with Lizzie since she’d left. Both of them too afraid of making things worse if they did not allow Lizzie her space.
But God, it was eating her up not being able to see Ruby. The little girl was like a bright beam of sunlight in the otherwise dreary, melancholic house. The whole place seemed a shade darker in her absence.
Surely Lizzie couldn’t keep her from Tommy forever. Despite everything, she was still his daughter. She would have to let him see her sometime.
Him, maybe. But not you. You have no claim to her. No matter how much you love her.
She squeezed her eyes shut. The idea of never seeing Ruby again made her want to curl in on herself and weep.
Approaching footsteps had the three of them starting and turning to see Charlie standing in the doorway, violin clutched in his hands. Excited to show Tommy the new tune he’d learned that morning.
“And what have you learned, my boy?” Tommy asked, and Lucy detected that he was making great effort to lighten his tone so Charlie would not notice the deep tension practically radiating from him. He slipped down into the chair behind his desk, a hand on Lucy’s waist urging her into his lap. She settled there, arm around his shoulders and head leaning against his.
Together, they sat, listening to the shrill squeaks and squeals of Charlie’s violin. All the while trepidation sank deeper and deeper into their bones. Regarding Michael. Regarding whoever had planted those land mines in their garden, like deadly flowers waiting to bloom in a fiery inferno. And regarding the danger that seemed to be coming at them from each and every direction.
∗ ∗ ∗
They stepped into the Garrison to find it utterly trashed. Broken glass crunched under their shoes, half filled and empty glasses littered the tables, and spilled booze seeped into the floorboards. There were only two people occupying the pub: a girl, who roused at Tommy scrapping a barstool against the floor to perch on, and Finn, who remained fast asleep spread out in a booth despite their less than silent entrance. The girl rushed to gather up her clothes and hurry out the door at Tommy’s command.
While he and Arthur set to work dealing with Finn, Lucy grabbed up a broom from the supply closet and started sweeping up some of the broken glass littered all over the place. They seemed to get through to him alright, though Lucy couldn’t entirely shake the wariness that had settled within her when it came to Finn. She couldn’t quite put her finger on it, but it was something not unlike how she always felt around Polly. That instinctual knowledge that, no matter what she did or how many times she proved her loyalty, Finn would never truly accept her as a part of the family.
At his mention to Tommy that he’d found a girl he wanted to marry, she started. Jesus, she kept forgetting that Finn wasn’t a kid anymore. In her mind, he was still that little boy running throughout the streets of Small Heath with dirt smeared across his face, grinning as he weaved between the adults’ legs at the betting shop.
That might explain some of his recent behavior, however, what with the running head-on into danger half-cocked. Whoever this girl was, he was trying to impress her.
“Tell me about her,” Tommy requested.
“She likes the life.”
“She likes the life, ey? Well, find one that hates it. Look at him,” Tommy gestured to Arthur. “That’s what he did, and now he’s chairman of the board.”
She frowned, grip tightening on the broom that she was holding, catching her lip between her teeth to worry at it while she shifted uncomfortably. Finn was dismissed, though Lucy barely noticed.
Was that what he really thought? That all of them were better off with women who hated the lives that they’d chosen to live?
She did not fit into that category. But Lizzie did.
Of course he missed his daughter and wanted her to come home. Lucy missed her too. But it had not even really occurred to her that he may be missing Lizzie as well.
Her fear that Lizzie would someday replace her was a constant, forever presence in the back of her mind. Sometimes it was quiet, hardly even a whisper to be heard. Other times it was a scream, a blaring siren warning her to brace herself for heartbreak that surely would be coming at any moment. The volume of it ebbed and flowed like the tide.
His words ran on a loop in her head, doubts growing. Maybe the type of person that she was no longer appealed to him. Maybe Lizzie was what he really wanted. A nice, normal woman. Not some basket case who woke up most nights screaming from nightmares, or who flinched at unfamiliar touches or loud noises. Who didn’t find even the smallest enjoyment out of the sport or kind of work that they did. Who rode a horse sidesaddle rather than with a leg on either side.
Did she like the life anymore? She honestly couldn’t say. The life had caused her an awful lot of pain, as the aches in her shoulders or the twinges in her heart so often liked to remind her. But it had given her Tommy. And if the life of a gangster was what she had to lead to be with him, she’d do it all again in a heartbeat. Without even the smallest hesitation.
She swallowed hard, shifting uncomfortably. A combination of excitement and dread opened up inside her at Arthur’s report that Lizzie and Ruby would be home later that day. She couldn’t wait to see Ruby. But the idea of having to face Lizzie, especially after the fight they’d had and Tommy’s latest comments, left her feeling nothing but anxiousness.
Tommy started to give Arthur orders for how to handle Michael once he arrived from Liverpool, but she barely heard him.
She knew that Tommy cared for Lizzie. That had never bothered her. She cared for her too. But the idea that he might someday fall in love with her terrified her. Because if he loved her the way that Lizzie so desperately wanted him to, there would be no room for Lucy in his life anymore. No love left for her.
A part of her had always figured it was an inevitability. How could he not fall in love with Lizzie? She was sweet, beautiful, the mother of his child, and he had known her for years. Even longer than he’d known Lucy. It was impossible that he could spend so much time in such close proximity to her–both emotionally and physically–without certain feelings beginning to bloom.
Once that happened, she would be done for. Because when Tommy loved someone, really loved them, like he did her and Grace, he would do anything for them. And the first thing that Lizzie would ask of him would be to toss Lucy out onto the street like an unwanted dog.
Everything she had, she had because of Tommy. She was not naive enough to think otherwise. Without him, she would lose everything. Hell, he was everything to her. Some days, she doubted she would even be alive if it weren’t for him. What would she even have to live for? Without Tommy she was completely and utterly alone.
“Lucy?” Tommy called, and she started, realizing that he had stood and gone to the Garrison’s doors, waiting for her to follow him.
“Sorry.” Setting aside the broom she was holding, she wiped her hands down on her overcoat and moved to trail him outside, giving a sharp shake of her head to try to dislodge the thoughts banging around uncomfortably inside her mind.
“You alright?” he asked, once they had made their way to the station and seated themselves in a compartment on the next train headed for London. The floor vibrated under her shiny black boots as they started to pull out of the station, beginning the journey south. She looked away from where she was gazing out the window with her knuckles resting against her lips to find Tommy eyeing her, mild concern shining in his eyes.
She thought about asking him what he meant by what he’d said in the Garrison. But she didn’t have the courage to open her mouth and let the words come out. Too scared by what his answer might be.
“Yeah,” she said, instead, shifting so that her temple leaned against the cool glass of the window. “I’m fine.”
∗ ∗ ∗
“Excuse me?”
Lucy looked up from her desk into the face of a bald man with a pointed nose and a dark mustache. He had his hat clutched in his hands, running his fingers along the fine material.
“Yes?”
“This is the office of Thomas Shelby, correct?”
“It is.” She put down her pen. From his desk across from hers, Adam shot her a nervous look. “How can I help you?”
“My name is Stacker. I need to ask Mr. Shelby some questions. Is he in?”
“What sort of questions?”
The man shifted from foot to foot. “There was a shooting two days ago of a journalist who was in here to meet with Mr. Shelby the night before his death. I’d like to speak with him about it.”
“You’re police?”
“Yes, Miss.”
“Police aren’t allowed in here.”
“I’m here in a very…unofficial context.”
“Mm,” she cocked her head, both of them aware that wasn’t truly the case. But flat out sending him away might do more harm than good. “Adam, go find Mr. Shelby and tell him that there’s a policeman here to see him.”
Adam nodded, standing and slipping past Stacker to rush out the door.
“You can wait in his office,” Lucy said, standing and walking around Stacker to open the double doors, leading him inside. “Who’s your Chief Constable, if you don’t mind me asking?”
“Chief Constable Wyatt, Miss.”
She nodded. Good. They knew Wyatt. “Mr. Shelby will be here in a moment. Can I get you something to drink, while you wait?”
“No thank you. I’m alright.”
She went out into the front office, plucking up a folder from her desk and flipping through it to appear busy while waiting for Tommy and keeping one eye on Stacker. The policeman prowled around the office, examining the papers and trinkets spread out on the big desk, then moving to inspect a painting of a white horse surrounded by a golden frame and hung on the wall behind Tommy’s chair. He didn’t touch anything, though Lucy was sure he was making mental notes about all that he was seeing.
Heavy footfalls announced Tommy’s presence, entering the office with his briefcase in hand and Adam trailing in behind him.
“His Chief Constable is Wyatt,” she murmured into his ear. He nodded.
“Five minutes, then come tell me I’ve got an appointment or something that I need to get ready for so he’ll leave.”
She nodded, going to lounge behind her desk while he went in to deal with the officer.
Just another day in Parliament, she thought to herself as she lit a cigarette, puffing smoke up towards the ceiling, keeping an eye on the clock for when she would need to rise and rescue Tommy from the clutches of the lawman.
The police investigating Levitt’s death wasn’t a particularly unexpected occurrence. Nor was them coming here to talk to Tommy about it, considering that Levitt had died not long after seeing him. Their boys had done good work on the hit, giving it enough flourish to send a message to any other journalists looking to try something, all while ensuring that the police wouldn’t be able to link it to them easily. If at all.
Didn’t mean that their poking and prodding around wasn’t annoying, though. She had hoped that the police would simply assume that Levitt’s death was a result of conflict caused in his personal life, and they could avoid being pulled into the investigation all together. But apparently not.
The clock chimed, and she rose from her seat, grabbing up some documents that she needed Tommy to look over anyway, going back into his office just as the last chime sounded.
“Mr. Shelby, you have a meeting with an MP from Essex in a few minutes.” She reported, placing the documents she’d brought in on his desk. Tommy turned his gaze onto the policeman.
“Your time’s up, Mr. Stacker.”
Stacker said nothing, throat working. Whatever Tommy had said to him before she came in, it had either given him pause, or made him very angry. Perhaps a bit of both. His eyes flickered between them, and then he rose from his seat.
“Thank you,” Tommy called to his back as he retreated from the room.
“Did it not go well?” Lucy asked, once she heard the door close shut behind Stacker, watching Tommy’s face while he moved around his desk to his chair.
“He’s suspicious. But I don’t think it’ll stick. If it does, I’ll have a word with Wyatt about him.”
“Alright.”
Tommy’s eyes shifted to the clock. She glanced over her shoulder at it.
“Arthur was supposed to call me at three,” he huffed, as they watched the minute hand tick over to the right.
“It’s only two minutes past, love.” She moved around to his side of the desk, touching his shoulder. “Arthur isn’t always the most punctual.”
He just grunted, and she smiled fondly at his grumpiness, rubbing his shoulder a few times to try to massage away some of the tension she felt in his muscles. When she moved to retract her hand, he caught it in his, dipping his face to peck a kiss to the back of it. His eyes squinted at her, assessing.
“Something’s bothering you.”
She looked down and away. His thumb rubbed back and forth across her hand where it was still clasping it. She glanced anxiously towards the door.
“There’s no one who might see us except for Adam. And he already knows about us,” Tommy said, reading her mind. “Talk to me. You’ve been quiet since we left the Garrison this morning.”
“It’s…it’s nothing, really.”
“Then why don’t you want to tell me?”
She finally looked up at him. The hard wood of his desk was digging into her back where she was leaning against it. She opened her mouth to tell him, then closed it again. It all felt a little ridiculous when she actually tried to put it into words. “Because I’m just being stupid.”
His brows pinched, fingers squeezing a little against hers. “Well, now you have to tell me.”
Her lips pricked upwards. His hand smoothed up her arm, nearly to her shoulder, rubbing a few times before finding its way back to her hand, raising it back to his lips. “Hm?” His head cocked, tempting. “Come on, now, talk to me,” he said, in a voice like a honey. Lucy huffed, trying to stifle a shiver at the warm rumble of his words, struggling to gather her thoughts into coherent sentences.
“I’m happy that Ruby and Lizzie are coming home. Really. I just…” she sighed, glancing away again. Tommy’s thumb massaged across her knuckles encouragingly, his piercing gaze fixed on her patiently while he waited for her to finish her thought. But she found that she couldn’t. She wasn’t strong enough to actually speak the words that rested on the tip of her tongue.
Am I not what you want anymore?
Are you falling in love with her?
Do you still love me?
And yet she didn’t need to. Both of Tommy’s hands landed on her hips. “Come here,” he drew her in closer, head tipping back to peer up at her through his dark fringe, gaze so softened with affection that it nearly stole the breath from her lungs. And she was left suddenly feeling very foolish that she could ever possibly have doubted his feelings for her.
“I love you.” He laid a quick kiss on her lips. “I love you, not her. That’s never going to change.”
Her hands came to rest on the nape of his neck, skin warm under her fingers. Relief, that he understood what she was trying to say without her actually having to utter it, had tension that she hadn’t even realized had built up in her muscles melting away. A relieved breath released from her lungs.
She lowered her head to press her lips to his hair, closing her eyes, voice dropping to nearly a whisper. “I know.” And she did. Deep down, she always did. It was just that sometimes the voices in her head screamed so loud that they drowned out everything else. “Sorry. Sometimes…sometimes I just get scared.”
His eyes grew sad. “Don’t be sorry,” his thumb circled against her hip. “Brains can be stupid, ey?”
A quiet laugh left her. “Yeah. They can, can’t they?”
“Mm,” humming in agreement, he dropped his head to kiss her shoulder.
The phone on his desk started ringing, popping the little bubble of contentment that had formed around them. Tommy let out a soft groan, lifting his head and reaching around her to grab at the receiver. He tilted it just so against his ear so that she could lean in and hear what was being said on the other end.
“Arthur?”
“Yeah,” the older Shelby’s gravely voice rumbled through the receiver. “Polly says Michael’s telling the truth.”
“Did you see him?”
“Yeah.”
“And?”
“He was angry with us.”
Lucy snorted. As if Michael had any reason to be mad after he’d just lost all their fucking money.
“Got some American girl with him, too,” Arthur continued. “They got married on the ship on the way here. Name’s Gina Gray. Formally Nelson.”
“What’s she like?”
There was a snort. “She’s got an attitude on her, that’s for bloody sure. Got rooms for them at the Midland. Michael’s mad as a swarm of hornets about it, but he agreed to stay there.”
“Good. What did you think of Michael?”
There was a long pause. “Honestly, Tom…I thought he was awfully fucking defensive for someone who supposedly doesn’t have anything to fucking hide.”
Tommy nodded, looking out the window, lips pursing together.
“I have my revolver with me,” Arthur said, after a moment. “I could probably catch up to them before they even get to the hotel…”
“No. I want to speak with him first. Before we make any permanent decisions. Just have our people at the Midland watch him, for now.”
“All right.”
Tommy hung up the phone, and then let out a groan, face falling forward to rest on her chest, arms looping loosely around her waist. Lucy laid her palms on the back of his head, hugging it to her while her chin rested on his soft dark hair.
“Well, at least we can keep an eye on him here,” she murmured. With a sigh, Tommy raised his head.
“Yeah.”
“If you change your mind and want him taken care of, just say the word.”
“We have to be absolutely sure.”
She examined his face, understanding. It wasn’t about Michael. Not really. Not anymore. Maybe at some point it would have been, but most of the good will that Tommy had towards his cousin had dried up long ago.
This was about Polly.
If he ordered Michael’s death without provable provocation, he would lose Polly forever. Hell, even if they were able to prove that Michael was trying to have Tommy killed, that may not be enough to sway Polly to their side. At the end of the day, Lucy believed that she always would side with him. Even over the other Shelbys, if she had to. And understandably so. Michael was her son.
But Tommy loved Polly enough that he would not have Michael killed. Not until he either had no other choice, or he was confident that Polly would support him on it.
Delicately, she brushed a few tendrils of hair out of his face. “It’ll be okay.”
He looked up at her with eyes worn ragged, stress pinching at the edges of his mouth and in his brow. She stroked his face, smoothing away the lines, drawing his head in close to rest on her chest again. He nuzzled into her with a sigh, eyes sliding closed and cheek resting comfortably atop her breasts.
She wished terribly that there was more that she could do for him. All she wanted was to be able to help him. To help lessen the burdens that he carried. But there wasn’t much more that she could do. Not now, at least.
So instead, she just held him.
Previous Chapter • Series • Fic • Next Chapter
Thank you for reading! Please consider leaving a comment, reblog, or like. I always appreciate feedback and love getting the opportunity to interact with you and hear your thoughts!
#tommy shelby#thomas shelby#tommy shelby x oc#tommy shelby fanfic#tommy shelby series#tommy shelby imagine#peaky blinders#peak blinders fanfic#peaky blinders imagine#cillian murphy
30 notes
·
View notes
Text
he slept outside the tent that night
#I'm very sorry if someone already did this#i'm very sorry#baldur's gate 3#bg3#astarion#baldur's gate iii#tav baldur's gate#elysen#tav bg3#baldurs gate tav#astarion x tav#bg3 tav#my tav#tav#bg3 astarion#astarion ancunin#my artwork#my art#sketch#sketchbook
233 notes
·
View notes
Text
This line. God, this line! It has been eating me up inside for 2 days now, because let's not forget, this line isn't about love, it's about trust. And that has implications that make me want to scream.
It's a direct reference to this moment earlier in the episode:
At the start of this discussion, Style and Fadel still have a kind of playful air about their conversation:
Style: Oh? Not even me? Fadel: You're at 80% at best. I feel like you're hiding something from me in the 20%.
In this exchange, though, there's a sense that Fadel is issuing a challenge, like there's something specific which Style can do to gain Fadel's full trust. And while Style knows there are things he cannot (yet) reveal to Fadel, I think a part of him is determined to be as honest as he can be, which is why he issues a challenge of his own by asking for more specificity:
Style: What do I have to do to gain your complete trust?
Part of this question is a simultaneously inquisitive and deflective - What (and why) do you think I'm hiding (something) from you? - but there's also a moment after Style finishes speaking where he stills and goes quiet that feels... genuine, weighty. Or, as @airenyah has pointed out in her meta on Style in episode 4, the "grounded[ness]" in Style's demeanour is a signal that Style means what he's saying in the moment. Maybe about his own desire to be worthy of Fadel's trust, maybe about how he genuinely does want this relationship to be real in whatever way that matters to Fadel.
I think Fadel sensed that too, because the moment looses all the lightheartedness it had before. Fadel pauses, and then gets a look on his face that just... breaks my heart. There's a sombreness there, like he knows he's going to have to say something that makes him sad. Fadel looks away, and then down, before he seems to steel himself and says:
Fadel: It'll never happen. No matter how much you love someone, I just don't believe that you can completely lay yourself bare in front of them.
Fadel says this like it's fact. Like what he's expressing is something foundational and true and irrefutable. It's not even about his doubt in Style's honesty, because this statement has no qualifiers or conditions put on it to connect it to Style. Rather this is what Fadel fundamentally believes about relationships and trust: he finds the very concept of being fully known and still accepted an impossibility.
Sure, maybe this is because of the falling out (or betrayal or disappearance) associated with the former lover; but I also think it might be because Fadel is acutely aware not only that he's hiding a rather big and dark secret (not to mince words, but: actual literal premeditated murder), but also about what it implies about Fadel. Because being able to kill another human, coldly and clinically and without remorse, takes a certain type of person. Because, yes, Fadel has lived through an absolutely harrowing and traumatising event (his parents' murder), but it's also undeniable that it changed him. Because there's something about Fadel that twisted dark and which he never quite got back. There's an anger, a hurt that colours every moment of his life; that enables him to look a man in the eyes, smile politely, and pull a trigger.
And at this point in their relationship, Fadel's understanding of Style is that he's... well, kind of innocent. Especially in comparison to Fadel and Bison, and even Kant.
Style, who easily reveals facts about his life which Fadel already knows (winning a car tuning competition), making Fadel doubt his own instincts about Style hiding secrets. Style, who also reveals the things Fadel doesn't know, like the tender and secret pain of a mother lost to cancer (which, now that I think about it, Fadel may also know) and his worries about a father who "lost his bearings for a bit" (which he probably doesn't). Style, who tries to comfort Fadel in his own loss by offering a safe space and a sympathetic ear.
Style, who doesn't just see Fadel for his tragedy, but is asking to be given the chance to accept all of Fadel as a person. Style, who not only wants but has the capacity, to be the only person Fadel needs to rely on. Style who, despite the sea of differences between them, understands Fadel on a level that is so very foundational.
I'm going to slightly segue and mention something that may not resonate with everyone, but really hit me in the gut this episode: because I lost my father when I was 16 after he battled cancer for 2 painful years. And this revelation about Style has totally shifted and coloured everything Style has done in a new light for me. Because not only does this totally explain Style's sometimes almost stubbornly childish demeanour (it's common in adults who've had to 'grow up' too early), but also why Style shows seemingly random flashes of insight and maturity when they are most crucial. Notably, Style has this almost instinctive sense of when he needs to back off a sore point with Fadel that I couldn't quite put my finger on until this episode.
I've seen a few jokes about Style's awkward subject change, but I've actually got a friend who I hold very dear to my heart who was one of the only people to give me a sense of normalcy and comfort when my dad was on his last few days and then at his funeral. And part of that was the instinctive way she would know when I needed to just. Not be a grieving daughter for a few minutes. To get a small respite from the overwhelming hopelessness and sense of impending loss. To get a moment to breathe and gather my strength, because knowing I was never going to see my dad again, or hear his voice, or hold his hand was tearing me apart back then. Sometimes she'd talk to me about college drama, sometimes she'd introduce a new kpop video to me, sometimes she'd just ask me what I wanted to eat and take me to go have a meal with her. And sometimes there really just isn't anything else to say other than "I'm sorry." Nothing you say - nothing you can say - is going to ever, ever make this grief go away, and in most cases, it was better when people (especially those who couldn't really understand) didn't try.
And I think if you look at Fadel very closely, there's a moment of genuine surprise (Fadel wasn't expecting the subject change at all) and then... something that looks like fondness mixed with exhausted relief. Because I don't think Fadel was ready to talk about his parents yet. This was honesty he wasn't ready to give Style, mostly prompted because Style himself had willingly been so vulnerable that a part of Fadel wanted to reciprocate. But further down that path lies not only his darkest memories, but also the connection to the part of his life he is not willing to share with Style yet. So this subject change is a relief, it's a blessing, but it's also Style knowing when he shouldn't push any further with Fadel's fragile heart.
Which brings me back to how well the episode's theme of trust (both deserved and undeserved) was woven in this episode. This is true on multiple levels and characters but I'm not even going to attempt to touch Kant in this post because... Lord, that is beyond me at the moment. Someone else needs to do that, pretty please, so I can reblog it and scream.
It starts, somewhat unexpectedly, with Fadel asking for entrance into the intimate spaces of Style's life.
So, this episode was not about Fadel's fear of his own feelings, desires, or even affection for Style - that appears to be fully addressed in episode 4. I think that's why we see Fadel be so physically affectionate and indulgent of Style in this episode. He's come to terms with his lust for Style's body (hence his comfort in initiating sex), he's accepted Style as his boyfriend and so can enjoy Style's playful teasing (still reluctantly, but Fadel is still an introvert even if he's mostly enjoying Style's rambunctious nature), and give into Style's (and Bison's and Kant's) cajoling with relatively little fuss.
He's even comfortable toying with the edges of revealing his darker and more sinister side by reminding Style implicitly about how violent Fadel has the potential to be. Recall that Fadel knows Style knows some of his capacity for violence; he just doesn't know how very thoroughly Style is aware of the full scale of this truth. It does help that Style evidences no actual fear and, in fact, looks positively euphoric. Like, buddy, pal, dearest one... please control yourself.
And yet something very, very telling is the way the show makes it a point to depict Fadel very deliberately getting drunk during the double date. Even before the date has started, Fadel looks to be about half a beer in and we see him constantly drinking, drinking, drinking during the whole date. From the conversation about trust he has with Style while Kant and Bison are being off key and adorable about it, to after Kant leaves and Bison gets worried. And we've seen Fadel cope with emotional and mental distress with alcohol before, so we know that Fadel is internally fighting some kind of very intense battle even as he is also very clearly enjoying moments with Style on this date (most notably when they're dancing by the bowling lanes and when Style asks him to go home with him).
So here's my take: rather than being about love, this is about Fadel fighting to hold onto his own philosophy on relationships and trust. Because as much as I do believe Fadel believes he's telling the truth when he tells Style that 100% trust is "impossible", I think it's clear that's not what he wants.
What he wants is to finish this last job so that the only thing he can't be honest about with Style will finally stop being a factor in his life. What he wants is to fully and completely reciprocate the openness Style seems to be giving Fadel. What he wants is to switch off his brain and let his heart lead for once, to stop fighting a battle he has no desire to win anymore, only he can't. Trust (not love) is Fadel's final frontier, and one which he can't quite give up in spite of himself.
Which is why I think Fadel intentionally gets himself drunk here. Because he wants to let his guard down around Style. He wants to open himself fully, he wants to "lay himself bare" for Style, he wants Style to know the full truth and accept him anyway - and he gets so close, but can't quite get there - because he doesn't know that Style already has.
When Style says this, Fadel thinks it's empty words, not knowing that Style has long passed the bar Fadel thinks is insurmountable. And just like Style was able to offer safety and reassurance to the vulnerability Fadel was showing in episode 4, Style instinctively gets to the core of Fadel's darkest fears again:
Style: One day, I'll be your 100%.
This isn't (just) a promise that Style will wear Fadel's stubbornness down, or that Style will be worthy of Fadel's 100% (which, already, has me in tears, ngl). Beyond that, this is Style promising Fadel isn't ruined for this; that it isn't too late, that whatever hurts and wounds Fadel has can be made whole again. That the kind of honest and all-encompassing and unconditional trust which Fadel says is impossible can, in fact, be his. That Fadel still has the capacity to trust and be trusted the way he so desperately, painfully longs for.
I know a lot of people have said Style in this episode is writing cheques he has no ability to honour, but I think it's more layered than that. Because in a very significant and profound way, Style is wholly deserving of Fadel's trust. Because in all the ways that Fadel has ever known he should want, Style actually IS worthy of his trust. Style knows the truth Fadel is hiding, knows what this man is capable of, knows the danger of being in his arms, knows the likely nonexistent future Fadel has to offer him -- and wants him anyway. Style is a man who would stare into Fadel’s darkness and reach out first. Strip away the complication of Kant being blackmailed and dragging Style into his mission, and Style is literally perfect for Fadel. He is exactly what Fadel wants (and possibly has wanted for a very long time). He is, in fact, exactly what Fadel needs to ever experience anything beyond the shadow of a life he's had so far.
But oh, the cruel narrative means that Style is also, simultaneously, painfully undeserving of Fadel's trust; and this is something Style is very much aware of. I think that's why he's trying so very hard to be worthy in all the other ways he can be. Style's awareness of what Fadel is hiding enables Style to (counterintuitively) be completely honest about his feelings for and about Fadel even as he cannot reveal his motivations. So he gives Fadel as much honesty as he can: offers the vulnerability of his own pain and hurts; the comfort of his true understanding and acceptance.
And just as Fadel's vulnerability in the abandoned factory was met with Style choosing a form of physical connection that prioritised Fadel's pleasure (it's made very clear that Style is jerking Fadel off and that all his focus in that moment was on Fadel, not his own pleasure), so too is this moment met with Style very intentionally choosing to worship Fadel's body with all the tenderness and genuine emotional weight that Style wanted Fadel to have in their first time in the storeroom.
Because, crucially, this was Style giving Fadel the chance to lay himself at least physically bare. This is the closest either of them can get to full honesty with the secrets they both are keeping. It's why Style tries so very hard to show the care and adoration and genuine feelings he has for Fadel. Why he makes sure that the vulnerability of Fadel getting himself as drunk and as relaxed and as trusting as Fadel can allow himself to be is tied only to gentleness and tenderness and pleasure.
Because Style actually knows that Fadel can't (and shouldn't) trust him in the way Fadel truly wishes to.
And as much as I believe that Style genuinely means this from the bottom of his heart, the horrifying full truth is that it is Style that has the metaphorical knife hovering over Fadel's chest. He is the one with the capacity to actually give Fadel a new scar that would truly matter. He is, in fact, the only one Fadel wants to fully trust -- and this, along with Style's compromised heart, makes it so that the circumstances will doom them both.
#this episode broke me in ways i wasn't ready for because of style's backstory so fair warning there's no level of objectivity whatsoever#i'm sure much as already been said about this line and this moment and i'm sorry if i'm just repeating someone else (please let me know!)#i haven't had the time or physical OR emotional capacity to actually read any meta on episode 5#so i apologise in advance if i screwed up anything but these are just my (somewhat disjointed and very emotionally driven) thoughts#the heart killers#the heart killers the series#fadelstyle#style sattawat#fadel#thk ep 5#thk meta#hui talks thk#hui talks thai bl#i understand why dunk said this scene was so hard and weighty and was his favourite now#(or at least i think this was the one he means?? I vaguely remember an interview where dunk talked about them talking#before they have sex and how emotionally charged it was)#i'll have to go through my tags and see if i talked about it#but either way our boys both did such excellent jobs this episode#as they have been doing every episode but each time i really am just... newly awed by their talent and my adoration for them grows <3#joongdunk#joong archen#dunk natachai
278 notes
·
View notes
Text
sailor moon episode 200 .. revolutionary girl utena episode 39
#rgu#sailor moon#sailor moon stars#sailor galaxia#anthy himemiya#utena tenjou#usagi tsukino#galaxia does not fall but anthy does- still decided to include the last pics though because they look similar#i know i'm not breaking new ground or anything with this one btw. i just wanted to line them up nicely. this blog is my scrapbook#(and sorry if someone made this exact post at some point and i just couldnt find it in the few minutes i spent checking lol)#interesting i and i assume others heavily associate this sequence with utena but sm did it first#maybe someone else did it even more first. feel free to reply and tell me#it's been posted already so i won't post it here but the rgu homage in cosmos did kinda inspire me to make this post bc its like#90s sailor moon inspired utena which then inspired cosmos... swag. very Cyclical of you. endlessly meta
287 notes
·
View notes
Text
since so many people now appear to be part of the "Stan Pines is hot" club, I gotta ask...
Which Stan appearance is the hottest
(also reblogging for larger sample size is appreciated)
#stanley pines#gravity falls#polls#fits i didn't include due to them being pretty similar to ones on this list include:#what he wears when trying to steal will e badger & what he wears to watch ducktective in dungeons dungeons & more dungeons#also his stanchurian candidate fit that's just his usual clothes + the mind control tie#I almost included when he's pretending to be ford but that almost doesn't feel like a Stan Look#then again if I did a similar poll for ford I might include when he's wearing the suit so idk#i would've put the suit with & without the fez as separate options but alas limited number of options#and also those are very similar (more so than the options i didn't include for being too similar)#same with his suit but when it's like casual (like jacket & tie undone)#you can pick any of these ones i didn't include i'm just explaining why some of them aren't there#if someone already made this poll i'm sorry i didn't know#s0dabeach post
96 notes
·
View notes
Note
as our resident Casey expert i wonder what do you think would have happened if marc and casey competed against each other? since casey retiring is so important for marc coming into motogp im always thinking abt the what ifs...
my initial instinct with this hypothetical is always 'that sounds horrible', though I do have more thoughts and opinions about it than that! marc obviously would have loved the chance to race casey, and casey has even been one of his picks of 'guys he would've liked to be teammates with' before, so, you know, clearly something there - and he does very much respect casey as a rider. I think it's quite likely that by the time marc entered the premier class, casey had already developed... I don't know if wariness is going too far, but maybe a little bit of unease or caution where marc was concerned. marc already very much had a reputation based on his 125/moto2 track record, and some of these incidents were controversial enough that the motogp riders commented on them. so take the phillip island 2011 incident where marc rode into the back of another rider:
the valentino quote serves as a bit of a benchmark here, given he was generally pretty pro-marc. yes, casey's phrasing is perhaps a little harsher, but unsurprisingly none of the riders were big fans of marc's behaviour in that particular incident
on the other hand, it's not like casey never sided with marc. take catalunya 2012, where marc was slapped with a controversial post-race penalty:
yes, casey's main complaint was about inconsistent stewarding - but still, he believed marc had been unfairly treated here. feels like these incidents were some of the only things casey and valentino actually agreed on in those years, so that's nice
that being said, it's hard to see how casey wouldn't have his issues with marc and marc's whole approach to racing. I did include some thoughts on the teammate question here, but mainly I'm going to pilfer the relevant autobiography passage:
"if a rider doesn't care about his own safety then it stands to reason he doesn't care about anybody else's either"... there's nobody really who embodies the 'doesn't care about his own safety' maxim better than marc. he was the young rider desperate to win, and I can't imagine casey would have enjoyed actually racing him much. casey mostly didn't enjoy racing valentino, after all, who is a generally a lot more selective with his aggression than marc is (though casey did have to experience some of the worst valentino had to offer in that regard). casey talked in his autobiography about getting a sense when he just wasn't really able to trust another rider on the track, how much it bothered him - and that exact lack of respect is something that's been pretty closely associated with marc. that doesn't mean he would immediately declare marc his enemy... he'd just want marc to change, to learn, to grow up, to start treating his competitors with a little more respect. the way casey talks about young riders, there is a sense in which he has more time for them than he does for valentino - whose lack of respect casey views as more integral to who he is as a rider. valentino isn't a bully on track due to the exuberance of youth, he's a bully on track when he thinks he can use it as a tactic of intimidation. then again, marc by this measure is worse... and I think very quickly casey would have grown pretty disenchanted with how marc approaches all his wheel-to-wheel racing, especially when it becomes more and more clear marc does not feel particularly inclined to change
it's always important to remember how recent the trauma of losing simoncelli was for the whole sport, and it coloured both dani and jorge's wariness of marc... but also (in my opinion anyway) their restraint in how they dealt with him. how they tried to stop themselves from actually making an enemy out of him, in part because they'd just had an experience of harshly criticising a rider for a whole year and then having to process his death. both dani and jorge actually had more public and more serious disagreements with simoncelli than casey did, but I reckon there would have been an element of that restraint with casey too... on the other hand, his experiences with marc would have left him feeling even more alienated from the sport than he already was - at times frustrated (like jorge was) less with marc directly but more with the regulatory bodies for not holding marc back, for not giving him a race ban or whatever to teach him a lesson. that being said, marc's shamelessness vs casey's stubbornness means that if they had direct on-track encounters and casey didn't like marc's post-race response... well, I certainly think that'd end up being a pretty tense situation, even if it falls short of active hostilities
worth including irl!casey's take on marc in 2013:
which, you know. it's not just that marc's a hard racer - casey is accusing marc of deliberately wanting to make the defeats extra painful for his opponents, of wanting to not just beat but humiliate them. anyone else that reminds you of? someone who is as motivated in securing his psychological victories as his actual ones? perhaps someone who has a bit of a history himself with casey?
let's bring in valentino. it's not that casey would really have begrudged marc his friendship with valentino, and he generally kept his hatred of valentino quite 'clean' in that he wasn't conducting any proxy wars or anything (for instance, I don't get the sense the vale/sic friendship ever affected his view of simoncelli... though I have very little to go on here either way). also, if nothing else in this timeline changes, we're assuming valentino in 2013 is fairly clearly the... fifth? best rider? kinda depends where dani would have landed I suppose (casey's retirement announcement did save honda from a bit of a headache)... but anyway what this means is that valentino probably wouldn't initially have been much of a competitive threat to casey. mostly he would have been consigned to the sidelines
that being said, I doubt casey would have massively enjoyed the whole laguna seca saga. unfortunately, we don't even really know what real life casey's stance on the copycat move situation was... though if I had to guess, in this timeline I'd say his position would've been, a) marc could and should have carried out that overtake two corners later, there was no need in that race situation to take that risk, b) still, it was valentino's slight error as he attempted to reclaim the position (in what was a pretty aggressive manner, it has to be said) that led to them both ending up off-track and fuck that guy, and c) the problem with 2008 wasn't just or even primarily the corkscrew overtake and it's annoying that that's the only bit everyone talks about. of course, there's also the question of whether casey would have bought marc's explanation that it was totally by coincidence that the overtake happened there... and again, complete guesswork, but my sense of casey is that he would have assumed marc was being at least a little bit dishonest. (which, you know... laguna's not an easy track to overtake at, but marc did prove with the bradl move that he was perfectly capable of overtaking after turn 8 - might not have been planning on the off-track excursion, but he was still attempting to overtake just ahead of a blind crest that happened to feed into the corkscrew lol.) I think casey by his honda days had calmed down a bit (though he still certainly had some conspiratorial tendencies), but I also don't think it's a stretch to imagine that he would've felt like he was a victim of a joke between the pair of them... not ideal
overall though, I reckon casey's main frustrations would have been less with the move itself and more with how it was discussed. in the presser, while joking with marc, valentino does take the opportunity to get in a jibe at casey for old time's sake. there's this clip, where he directly addresses livio suppo (at ducati in 2008, by then at honda) - specifically about how both casey and suppo criticised him for that overtake. in response, suppo says something about how he's grateful to marc because they finally got payback. valentino is later asked directly about casey's complaints in 2008 in this clip, and replies with the following:
would valentino have said this stuff with casey still in the paddock? well, yes! honestly, given valentino did very quickly lay off needling casey once he had retired, there's a good chance he would have said something worse. and marc would have laughed along at the whole thing. I don't know, I just don't see casey taking particularly kindly to that... he can hold a grudge, that man can, and at a certain point he'd probably be increasingly less willing to give marc the benefit of the doubt. interesting situation though, laguna seca '13 + casey is a very juicy scenario that could play out in several different ways
but I'm guilty of burying the lede here - there's a far more obvious reason than anything I've described above for why the casey/marc relationship would have turned sour. it's the simple fact that they would have been teammates which would do the damage all on its lonesome; they have radically different conceptualisations of how that dynamic is supposed to work and would inevitably have clashed as a result. the one commonality they do have is they don't see their teammates as potential friends, which is... also not helpful! I think they'd probably initially be fine on the interpersonal level - and, actually, given how the casey/valentino relationship played out and marc's general approach to his rivalries, I can see marc/casey more or less being able to maintain a minimum standard of politeness towards each other even at their worst. like, I still think they'd be able to smile at each other and do some small talk when face-to-face, but I also think everything else would be a complete disaster. I talked a bit about how marc approaches his teammate relationships in this post - and I'm not going to rehash too much of what irl!marc got up to, but I'll include some bits relevant to casey
from marc:
related to casey:
and dani comparing the two:
we do obviously even have actual real life controversy wherein casey thinks marc felt threatened by him and forced him out of honda... and this in a timeline where they weren't even direct competitors! if this is the level of tension a test rider role can generate, then if they'd actually been teammates...? yeah, no. casey thinks that teammates should cooperate - and he thinks that riders enforcing divisions within the box are essentially doing so because they are "afraid". marc has openly admitted to lying about what parts he likes to make sure his teammate doesn't get any edge over him. this is the thing, right: marc might think casey is a cool rider, would've liked the chance to race him and even be teammates with him... but this is the stuff he did to dani, who was one of his literal idols! this is his understanding of competition - (like valentino) he might love the fight, but simultaneously he'll do pretty much whatever it takes to win, because he considers this stuff fundamentally part of the game. casey does not. to casey, this kind of victory is dishonest. any kind of gamesmanship is a sign of weakness... the victory is worth less if you're accomplishing it like that
now, hey, maybe marc would never have been able to go as far as he did with dani because he wouldn't have the kind of performance edge that allows you to definitively impose your will within the team. I think it's a popular interpretation that marc wouldn't have won the title in 2013 if casey had been there, which... I mean, I think it's true that it would have been less likely - in that in a season with that much volatility, the more plausible championship contenders you have the less likely it is that any single one of them takes the title (same goes for instance if you add in a valentino who had not gone to ducati for two years and would have presumably been more competitive in 2013). but it's not like casey would have been the defending champion and the clear class of the field... partly due to injury, he ended up finishing in third in 2012. jorge and dani didn't win the 2013 title in part as a result of their own injuries, and who knows how casey would have fared... like sometimes it's just luck of the draw really. you can be the better rider and still not win the title, shit happens. I think for as long as a more or less healthy-ish casey stays in the sport, it would have been unlikely that marc establishes quite the same performance edge as he did over dani... but, well, if anything that would have meant he would have fought even harder out of perceived necessity to win the internal honda wars
it's the kind of thing that can make a relationship quickly deteriorate, especially with a prickly character such as casey, and it's entirely plausible that dynamic would have become strained at best and horrendously toxic at worst... sooner rather than later. and the thing is, this environment would affect marc considerably less than it would casey. again, it's the fact that he relishes the fight... he's very good at shrugging off (most) criticism and thrives in that kind of tension. the emotional fatigue that this scenario generates would be painfully lopsided, where casey offers harsh criticisms and means them and is endlessly frustrated with marc's approach, while marc... doesn't really care. at least dani also had a questionable manager who was conducting behind the scenes warfare on his behalf - casey doesn't want to play these games at all. he just wants to ride a bike, and marc is never going to allow him to live in peace as long as he's an internal threat. if casey were exposed directly to all of that from marc, I doubt he'd walk away from the experience with a particularly positive impression of him
does he walk away? I think there's a decent chance that casey would have ended up so disillusioned with the whole thing that this would have been what pushed him into retirement. if he wants to get out of that mess, let's say after two years, his options would have been pretty limited. yamaha is closed off and I'd struggle to think of a scenario in which either jorge or valentino would have been particularly interested in a direct swap (also, if you're sick of being marc's teammate, you're probably not gonna be jumping at the chance to be valentino's instead). I suppose you could go back to ducati (which he did return to as a test rider so it's not like those bridges were permanently burnt), and maybe casey could do something special even with *gestures* that version of the bike. really though... I think enough would have been enough for him. regardless of the actual balance of success between the pair of them, my guess is marc wins that war because he's happier to get nasty and because he wants it more. casey has his two to four titles... he's done. let him go fishing
#i think it's a fun scenario but in all seriousness as someone who is like. generally invested in casey finding some peace in life#i'm quite glad he didn't have to go through it. good chance he gets another title but he left for a reason#spec tag#babynflames#brr brr#casey stoner#//#heretic tag#batsplat responds#2013-15-ish vale/jorge love and peace era were already kinda looking over at the honda wars and going. what's all this then#in this timeline i reckon they'd be even more pointedly cooperative. occasionally give a friendly thumbs up at the explosions next door#valentino a big believer in letting others do his dirty work for him so it'd be very [carefully neutral smile]#'EYE didn't think there was any problem with marc's move... maybe casey should consider not leaving a gap next time?' (there was no gap)#where would marc/casey have their first on-track incident? reckon cota would actually be a good shout - get it in nice and early#vibes of a good casey track but not marc cota levels good but marc's still a child... idk you need to get them in the same bit of track so#otherwise some time in the assen to brno stretch.... let's say *spins wheel* indianapolis#can u imagine if marc did the corkscrew move on CASEY... get rid of bradl (sorry dude) what does THAT podium look like what are the vibes
61 notes
·
View notes
Text
You're welcome.
#undertale yellow#undertale#Ceroba#undertale yellow ceroba#ceroba ketsukane#ceroba uty#The sprite I had to edit was very blury so I had to remake it by hand using one of the Ibis paint brushes#So yeah this was a pain in the ass to make#It was so worth it tho#Also the reason why it might not look completely accurate to the og sprite lmao#I hav no idea if someone else already did this so if you did I'm sorry I did not mean to do the same thing as you 😔
23 notes
·
View notes
Text
knowing communication is vital to a healthy relationship but never knowing how to start a conversation or holding back because you don't want to burden them with your emotions or say/do something that will push them away and just generally being socially inadept is such a fun time! :)
#i was so content being single why did i sign up for this again?#i like this person so much and i'm already so attached#and they've reassured me that they want to be with me also#but things are going so fucking slow and i think right now they have to#because of their mental state and things they are just trying to figure out about themselves and what they want#and i just want to be there for them through it and help them sort things out#but i guess some of the issue is they are mourning a relationship that they wanted but that didn't get to happen#but that apparently after we basically established yeah let's be a thing the other person reached in hopes they could meet each other#which like they told me it's more an issue now of letting the other person down easy and let them know they found a person to be with#but i'm just not coping with this knowledge very well at all#despite the reassurance from them that i'm the one they wanna be with#and i think i'm struggling because i'm probably jealous because they are friends and have been for years#and i don't want to be jealous i just wanna be chill about it#like i'm not going to be the person who makes them feel like they can't maintain their long term friendships#i won't be that person#but it makes me feel insecure like i'm competing against someone i don't even know#and i worry they're going to realize i just fucking suck and decide that to leave me to try something with that person instead#but i don't know how to even start a conversation or convey these feelings to them without fearing it's going to start some bullshit#that i don't want tainting the relationship#even outside of that like#i wanna know so many things about them but i don't even know where to start or if i can just ask them questions#everything scares me relationships are scary#i'm so fucking scared of being hurt again#ugh#personal#sorry i just needed to dump this somewhere because i've been bottling it up for a fucking week now#it did not make me feel better but at least i got the words out
16 notes
·
View notes