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peakyblindersxx · 4 years ago

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whiskey business - john shelby x reader (part 8 of ?)

gif by @thesoldiersminute can i send you a cake or something cause fuCk!!!!!!!!!!! he's beautiful

a/n: to everyone still reading this fic, my sweet angels, ily!! this fic is so near and dear to my heart and @stxdyblr-2k has just done such an amazing job with it i can't even thank her enough. as per the last part, this one is also mostly her, just me editing but i hope you guys love it as much as i did!!! don't worry, there's gonna be a lot more :) and i apologize for being not as active, i'm gonna try to get a couple of requests up that i'm really excited about this week tysm for being patient with me <3

love, abi xxx

read part one two three four five six seven | my masterlist

prompt: ada has some talking to do, and you're not about to deny her.

warnings: fluff, semi-angst, tommy being the cocky mf he is (let's be real, it's only acceptable cause he's so damn fine), john being cute and in love and jesus i am head over heels

tagging: @datewithgianni, @mayaslifeinabox, @deepdonutkid, @springsoulofengland, @lilymurphy03, @operation-spot

You had planned to go to Ada's after work, but she obviously had other ideas. She didn't even bother walking in and asking to speak to you; instead, choosing to bang on the window closest to your desk and yelling at you to "fucking hurry up!" Your boss opened the door for you expectantly, not offering you any protection; he was firmly in the Shelby's ever growing pocket and as long as he could go home to his children, his sickly wife and their six bed in the country, with a full time nurse and nanny, he had no interest in crossing Thomas.

"Ada, I was coming to see you after work, I swear."

"I know. I was going to let you but..." She trailed off. "We need to talk. I don't know what the fuck is going on with you. John said he'd seen you last night and you asked after me."

John had indeed seen you last night. It was strange waking up with him, used to leaving almost immediately after he was finished with you. Your small bed could barely comfortably fit you both, having to intertwine your limbs with John's to not fall off the edge. You had awoken to John pressing a kiss to your forehead before lazily trailing his fingers between your legs, waiting for you to open your eyes before settling between your thighs, tongue swirling around your clit, making you cum before sunrise.

"Do we have to do this in the street?" You practically begged, the shouting having attracted onlookers.

"I wanted to talk to you before anyone else in the family gets to you because I need you to be honest."

"Ada-"

"No, I'm doing you a favour here, so you fucking listen. Right now, between you and I, no bullshit. No tactics. No white lies. You have to tell me exactly what we're dealing with." She looked frantic, scared for some reason.

You nodded, walking her down the side street, careful not to link arms with her. You knew she was doing you a favour; this wasn't about forgiveness or friendship, much more was at stake here.

"To what extent was Thomas involved?"

That took you off guard. Ada read the confusion on your face and sighed impatiently, her subtle plea for you to keep up.

Shit. You remembered your conversation with John, how she thought this was her brother's way of pushing her out of the company.

"Don't spare my feelings. What did my brother say to you?"

"He said it was in our mutual interest that you didn't find out. He didn't care who John slept with but cared who you trusted so I had to trust him. He said there was no point in upsetting you over one of John's conquests who he'd tire of in a month."

"That all?"

"Pretty much, I didn't know Arthur knew. He never talked to me about it, did laugh at Thomas' digs now that I think on it-"

"Did you know Isaiah and Michael knew?"

"I thought they were aware but no one ever talked to me about it."

"Of course they wouldn't." She hissed, frustration causing a nerve on her neck to jump.

Ada and you had spoken for years about the rampant misogyny of her brothers and any men you two came into contact with. Although you were both far more reserved than you used to be as rebellious and adventurous thirteen year olds, you'd both grew increasingly angry at how you were treated. She'd long written off her brothers as womanisers, who saw women as purely sexual and entertaining, objectifying them. You both long despised how they dehumanised women. She was amazed that Thomas had attempted to settle down and managed a somewhat loving marriage, but resented him for his carelessness and need for power which inevitably killed his wife.

"Ada, I just want to say..." You licked your lip nervously, unsure of how to continue.

"You need to talk, Y/N. No bollocks."

"Before last night, he'd never been to mine or called. I always went to him."

The muscle in her jaw tensed.

"You slept with him last night then?" You met her question with silence and she rolled her eyes. "The second he said he saw you I knew you had, he wanted to tell me that he was going to continue seeing you and that he hoped I'd be able to accept it one day."

"We never intended to hurt you. It was meant to be fun at first, but now..." You cut yourself off with a sigh, unable to admit you'd fallen for her brother.

"Isn't fun for me. It's fucking embarrassing." She paused, lighting a cigarette, nervous to offer you one, conflicted within herself. She raised her eyebrow, prompting you to continue, the mannerism so similar to her brother’s.

"It should never have happened. I am never going to be able to fix this, I'm so fucking ashamed for doing this to you, Ada."

She sulked, silently drinking in your words.

"Obviously it's not going to be the same, yeah? I'm really fucking upset. I'm so fucked off with you but Poll's really worried about a coup. She thinks you're being used as blackmail against John to keep him on side with Tommy while he expands."

"Makes sense."

"You're part of a much bigger game, you know?"

You nodded. "Yeah, and I knew I would lose from the start. Fucking tragic, Ada."

"My brothers keep pushing, keep growing the business. They keep chasing this prize but I don't think it even exists."

"If it does, it isn't worth it if this shit is the cost. I didn't mean to play into his hands."

"You couldn't have known." She said with a shrug, " 'Siah thinks John loves you."

"He told me last night." Several times, this morning also. You would never tire of hearing him moan those words into your neck or being yelled from your front door as he left for the office.

"You love him, don't you?" She said bluntly, a statement more than a question, your face suddenly hot with embarrassment.

Everything you'd suppressed for months, everything that you'd hidden, every time you lied smiling, every knowing glance from a stranger, every degrading comment from under Thomas' breath.

"I do, an awful lot."

She pauses, relighting her cigarette, "The worst thing about the entire situation is it could've been fine if someone told me. I wouldn't have loved it, obviously, but-" Ada sighed, rubbing her temple with her free fingers.

"I thought you'd hate me."

"How could I? I'd be more angry that you'd drop your standards for my brother. Seriously? Him? Mate…."

"Come off it, I've always thought he was charming. He's funny, smart-"

"Don't gush over my brother, it's grim. I'm just so fucked off you all lied to me." She peered at you through her cigarette smoke. "If you love him and he loves you..." she pressed her lips together as she tensed her jaw, "I could get over it. If it'd make you both happy. But that's going to take a long time. A long time."

"Ada-"

"Look I have meetings and shit to sort, I have to run." She interjected, checking her wristwatch, adjusting the cap which sat atop her trendy short haircut. You caught her arm before she could turn away.

"Thank you. For understanding."

She shrugged you off, "I don't get it, I'd never do that to you. But you also don't get to choose who you're attracted to. I'm really hurt, but I do love you and John a lot. He mentioned that after last night you helped him, got him cleaned up. I have to believe that you both do love each other. So I have to believe that this is a good idea for you both and not stand in your way."

"I love you, Ada. Can we hang out soon, just us two?"

She shook her head. "I need some time, I'll be in touch, yeah?"

You nod, stretching out your pinky finger. She sighed and linked it with hers, as you'd done since you were children, a silent signal to each other after a fight that you still had the other's back.

"Right, I've got to get back to this meeting, Tom is getting done by Polly for nearly getting John killed. I need to be there in case one of the lads needs patching up."

"Your aunt has a nasty left hook, I'll give her that."

"She'll be pleased you think so, she wanted Tommy to slice you to bits for crossing me."

"Fuck’s sake, thanks for the warning, I'll keep my head down. Good luck with the meeting."

Ada nodded and you watched her walk away, a Blinder suddenly appearing by her side seemingly from nowhere. This city was crawling with them. They clambered into Ada's car as you watched the car disappear into the distance before walking back to work. Thankfully, with your head still attached to your shoulders.

*******

Ada arrived at Thomas' estate, following the swell of shouting voices to his exquisite library. It was eye roll worthy and typical Tommy to choose the location of his post-fuckup debrief to be where he had the best view of the gardens, river and rolling hills. She could bet he'd sit in a corner and stare at the view, zoning out their aunt's lecture.

An armed blinder she vaguely recognised opened the door. Thomas was making a statement today with the armed guards, she noted. Her brothers really were fucked up. Arthur was an alcoholic killer who couldn't understand that Thomas would betray them all eventually, Finn was letting the tokyo and the razor chasers that circled him distract him from keeping the family together, John was apparently in love with her best friend, and finally, Thomas nearly got Arthur and John murdered last night with his foolishness. At this point only herself and Polly were holding everyone together, keeping everything silently moving along.

The door opened, and she was the last to arrive, Polly glaring as she murmured an apology, standing next to Finn. His eyes were bloodshot, grey-purple smudges under his eyes, he'd obviously had a heavy night. The last thing the poor lad needed was Polly's shrill yelling and the blinding sun streaming through the large immaculately crafted windows, which he'd tried to block with the brim of his cap. John caught her eye, acknowledging his sister with a nod, which she returned with a small tight smile.

Ada couldn't bear to think about the reasoning behind her brother's smug interjections in between Polly's rant to Thomas who was listening wordlessly, smoking.

Y/N and John? It didn't make sense. They had a similar sense of humour, sure, but she was far too intelligent for him. He also had a swarm of children, while Y/N preferred a wild night out only staggering home at daybreak.

It made far more sense for Y/N to end up with Michael, or if it had to be a brother, Finn. They were younger, so had less responsibilities and commitments so they could keep up with her. But John? Of course she knew he was believed to be the Casanova of her brothers, he was kind, he was an excellent father, yet he could never keep anyone around long, usually John was chasing someone new after a month or so. That's why the revelation that John had been involved with her best friend for almost half a year had taken her completely by surprise. Maybe that was why she was open to them being together. That had to be it. This relationship was completely out of character for John; she needed to believe that he was serious about his feelings towards Y/N and wasn't going to fuck her over. Because if he did, John would be a dead man.

"I don't know why you're all bleating at me. Yeah, I overlooked some details in the planning of last night's meeting-"

"Such as warning us that they were really fucked off because you'd helped bomb their warehouse." John pointed out.

"What do you want me to do? Apologise? Grow up, John." Tommy snapped back.

"They had loaded guns against their heads, they deserve an apology." Ada interjected, John giving her an appreciative flash of smile. She did love her big brother. Despite the fact that she'd pretty much only been yelling at him for the past month, John never dismissed her feelings and only apologised. It was confusing to admit to herself, but when Isaiah told her that he was confident John loved Y/N, she felt a wave of relief. At least he cared about her; it was the bare minimum but the Shelbys were notorious for not even meeting the bare minimum for acceptable social interactions.

"They didn't fuckin’ get shot." Thomas stated, his voice matter of fact and condescending.

"Do you ever hear yourself speak?" Polly spit back at him. "They didn't get shot this time. But it was too fucking close."

"It won't happen again, Polly." Tommy sighed. "What else can I say? Sorry lads, take the weekend off?"

"It's a good start." Arthur countered, "You're also paying for the extension on my house and my wedding."

"Fuck’s sake Arthur I was joking. But fine. Sure."

"You can't buy your family off." Polly scoffed at him.

"Think of it as compensation, a settlement." Thomas coolly corrected his aunt. "What do you want, John? A fucking farm?"

John hesitates while Finn whispered suggestions to him, Ada meeting his stare, John raising a brow to her in question. She sighed and nodded her approval.

"You can pay off my mortgage Tom, give me the kids' birthdays off-"

"So you'd never come into work then?" Finn cut in, Ada elbowing him in the ribs. She usually enjoyed Finn's remarks but she knew where John was heading; she could barely breathe.

"Tom, you're also to leave Y/N completely alone. If you have a problem with her, you come to me about it." He said firmly.

Arthur and Tommy traded knowing looks, obviously more aware of the ins and outs of his relationship than Ada was.

"Also if you're paying for Arthur's wedding I want the equivalent in cash." He adds.

Tommy shrugged. "Whatever. As long as we can move past last night and focus on today's order of business."

John nodded, satisfied. He knew Tom wouldn't care, but just saying out loud that he was involved with Y/N and having his family aware was a relief. He hadn't realised until he finally admitted how stressful keeping his relationship a secret was. Now, he could stop worrying about Tommy interfering.

Polly rolled her eyes, lecturing the brothers on their lack of moral backbone to allow themselves to be bought off, but dismissed them. She caught Ada's arm in hers on their way out, pulling her far from earshot.

"So Y/N and John are together now?" She asked, her face firm and scowling.

"Polls, I talked with her, she's aware of what she's done. She apologised and meant it. What more can I ask for?"

"Her not to have fucked him in the first place."

"She said that. Look, Polls, they're happy right? John seems happy-"

"He always is when he gets a leg over."

"You know she looked after him last night? Fixed him up after the meeting."

"Meeting? It was a fucking set up." Polly hissed but her face had softened. "She cleaned him up?"

"Antiseptic, bandages and all."

Polly looked subtly impressed, although she'd never admit it. "He went to hers? Not yours?"

"He wanted to talk to her." Ada shrugs, "I saw her this morning and-"

"What do you mean? You bumped into her?"

"I went to her work." Ada admitted, her aunt shooting her an exasperated glare.

"Why do I bother? Nobody listens to me."

"I had to talk to her, I'm glad I did. She reckons she loves him, he told her last night that he loves her, so..."

"We are talking about John? Our John?"

"I know Polls, I'm as amazed as you."

Her aunt huffed, unimpressed. "Are you okay with it though?"

"I guess, I just want them to be happy. I've told them to give me time with it."

"She was a good friend growing up, but people change, sometimes for the better, often for the worse."

"Poll, it's Y/N; she's my best friend. At the end of the day, we'd do anything for each other."

"Sweet Ada, you're going to be so miserable if you keep letting people walk all over you." Polly said wisely, kissing her goodbye affectionately. "I hope you're right. If she makes you cry again I'll kill her myself."

"Thanks, Polls."

She knew her aunt wasn't joking.

#john shelby imagine #john shelby x reader #john shelby fluff #john shelby series #john shelby fanfic #peaky blinders fluff #john shelby #john shelby x you #peaky blinders imagine

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asscandles · 4 years ago

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Hello !!! I really liked ur writing (also the fandoms you do are chef's kiss) and i wanted to request for Mondo, Togami and Fuyuhiko (separately of course) with a very touchy (short 👀 I'm like 5'0") reader, who likes to squish their cheeks, hug them and give lil smoochies, sit or have the boys sit on her lap and other stuff like that? (It'd be cute if it were a mutual crush situation but I don't mind platonic either) Thank you sm in advance if you write it !!

ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ ꜱᴏ ᴍᴜᴄʜ!! ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴡᴀꜱ ᴀ ʀᴇᴀʟʟʏ ᴄᴜᴛᴇ ʀᴇQᴜᴇꜱᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ɪ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏᴇᴅ ᴡʀɪᴛɪɴɢ ɪᴛ. ɪ ʜᴏᴘᴇ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ɪᴛ ʟɪᴠᴇꜱ ᴜᴘ ᴛᴏ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴇxᴘᴇᴄᴛᴀᴛɪᴏɴꜱ!

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: ʟᴀɴɢᴜᴀɢᴇ + ꜱᴜɢɢᴇꜱᴛɪᴠᴇ

Mondo Owada

Honestly, he never thought he would ever be in this position.

Him? The Ultimate Biker Gang Leader? Receiving a constant supply of affection?

Ridiculous. Improbable. Impossible.

Oh, but don’t get me wrong. It’s not like he doesn’t enjoy the attention. But after he accidentally shouted at you in embarrassment when you complimented his eyes, reflexively crushed a pencil and consequently showered you with the splintered wood when you ambushed him with a hug, and fled from the premises after you innocuously offered to massage his shoulders… the idea of you sticking around in his life seemed unfeasible.

But here you are.

It doesn’t take him long to grow accustomed to the attentiveness and devotion you always treat him with.

“So, we should close off this area and tighten our control around this neighborhood. Oh, and maybe--”

“Uh, sir? What’s… um… What’s..?” One of his men tentatively pointed to where you were clinging to Mondo’s back, legs constricted around his waist and arms looped around his neck, blinking blankly at the man standing before you.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Mondo didn’t even flinch. “Anyway, as I was saying--”

Mondo really doesn’t mind when you cling to him in public. In fact, he appreciates the warmth of your body and the unexpected sense of security that holding your hand gives him.

But, he starts to draw the line when you stand in front of him while he’s sitting, smiling sweetly as you squish his cheeks and giggle about how adorable he is. He always flushes a florid shade and averts his eyes from yours. He would never tell you, but whenever you do that, he feels so defenseless, something that the rest of his crew should never know about.

That’s why he tells you to keep such intimate actions private. When you two are alone, you can squish his cheeks and pepper his face with kisses as often as you want. You understand this, and you’re always ecstatic whenever you walk in on him somewhere he’s alone.

You’re so short he loves it omg.

He thinks that watching you struggle to reach his face with your lips is so funny. He will often poke fun at you by either pretending to not see you or lifting his chin even higher. When you finally give up and try to storm away with a huff, he captures you in his arms and lifts you off the ground while you grumble indignantly.

Okay, but when you press yourself against him and wrap yourself in the loose fabric of his jacket so that it covers both of you? BITCHHH he melts.

Due to your short stature, you often find yourself seated upon his shoulders. At first, Mondo was taunted by his friends for quote-on-quote “having his head buried between your thighs,” but Mondo easily dismissed their teasing. He knew that your intentions were nothing less than pure…

Even if he initially was nervous and sweaty at the idea of being so… so close to you.

Mondo always treated you as if you were made of glass. Since you’re so small and he’s so muscular and tall, he always feared that a single bump or scratch would absolutely eviscerate your bones and pulverize your internal organs. For a while, he had been worried that he would forget about his own strength and accidentally hurt you. So, it did take him a little longer to reciprocate your affectionate.

That being said, he nearly flipped his shit when you nonchalantly asked him to try sitting in your lap. His brain was pumping out ideas at ninety miles an hour, but his lips could only communicate half of them, leaving him stuttering and nearly choking on his saliva. He was certain that he would crush your body beyond recognition if he tried.

No way. No. No. Absolutely not.

He’s cool with having you seated on his lap, though. In fact, he even encourages it. Having such a stunning gem to show off to his men during meetings stokes the flames of confidence within him, often resulting in a shit-eating grin and a protective hand on your shoulder or around your waist.

You get unlimited access to Mondo with his hair down, you lucky bitch.

You’re absolutely bewitched with how soft his hair is as it slips through your fingers like rivulets of water, the opposite of how it feels when it’s gelled into his usual hairstyle. You spend a lot of time combing your fingers through his hair and lightly scratching his scalp. Mondo finds it extremely relaxing, and he often comes to you whenever he has a headache or needs an extra push that will lull him to sleep.

Byakuya Togami

Before you appeared in his life, he had never been subjected to genuine love and sentiment. In his world, it was either surpass or be surpassed. Mercy was not an option, and competition was all he knew. As a result, he views everyone around him as inferior and lesser creatures.

When you first started to show kindness to him, he thought that you were merely pitying him because he spent so much time by himself. This led to him holding you at an icy distance and shooting scathing remarks in your direction.

However, you were steadfast in your determination to make Byakuya a part of your life. It took some time, but soon enough, you had earned a place in his heart.

He wished that he didn’t know how it was possible for you to have become such an essential part of his life, but he did. No matter how many times he told you that you were annoying, a distraction, or disgusting, it was clear that you were absolutely unaffected by it. You knew that his dislike of you wasn’t personal. Your tenacity is what caused his harsh words to dissipate in his throat and him to surrender to the prospect of developing a relationship with you.

You were strong, and he understood that now.

It definitely takes him a long time to accept your clingy nature, and even then, he sometimes feels suffocated by the surplus of affection.

It doesn’t mean that he completely brushes you off. It just means that you have to be more sparing with your ministrations.

He sees nothing wrong with allowing you a quick hug or to hold his hand in public. If anyone says anything about it, he will deadass act like nothing is happening. He knows that if he acknowledges it, the chances of him becoming openly flustered will skyrocket.

He would never be able to live it down.

Anything else you would like to do to him, he prefers to keep it private.

Wow, that sounds suggestive.

Whatever, let’s proceed.

He’ll gripe and complain about you being heavy, but he never pushes you off or directly tells you to get off when you burrow your way beneath his arm and curl into his side while he reads. He’ll just sigh and settle his arm around you with the tiniest, most discreet smile.

He can’t help but chuckle to himself when you remove his glasses so that you can wear them instead. His chuckle flourishes into a genuine laugh when you promptly yank them off, your stomach churning in protest of your warped vision.

When you hold his hand in private, you pay a lot of attention to his fingers. You toy with them, marveling at how strong they are despite their slender appearance.

So, kisses are a thing.

“What was that?”

“Uh, a kiss.”

“Revolting… Do it again.”

A common thing, actually.

You plant kisses everywhere that you can: his fingertips, his cheeks, his shoulders, the back of his hand, his nose. He never fails to blush red as a rose, often pulling away and pressing the back of his hand to his mouth.

If you want him to complain in mock disgust, press a sloppy, prolonged kiss right in the center of his forehead.

If you want him to squirm, brush the softest kiss you can manage to either his collarbone or the shell of his ear. Biiiitchhhh…

ANYWAY, THAT’S NOT THE POINT--

Surprise, surprise. He loves poking fun at your height. How shocking. How absolutely unbelievable.

Like Mondo, he finds amusement in watching you balance on your tiptoes as you try to kiss him. You, however, combat his devious snickering by seizing his crossover tie and yanking him down to your height, catching him off guard. Then, all he can do is inwardly grumble about his blunder while you press a kiss to the corner of his lips

He once actually sat on you to trap you after you tried (and failed) to tickle him. He wasn’t expecting you to laugh gleefully and wrap your arms around his waist to anchor him to you. Since you were enjoying what he deemed a punishment, it was no longer pleasurable for him. He finds it embarrassing to voluntarily sit on anyone’s lap--let alone the lap of someone remarkably smaller than him. He sees it as a role of submission. Need I explain more?

He won’t complain if you sit on his, though. Well, I lied. This bitch complains about everything. It’s more like… he won’t reject you if you end up on his lap.

But about a half hour into whatever the hell this “cuddling” thing is, Byakuya discovers that the combination of your weight and body heat is an interesting catalyst for the onslaught of fatigue that he’s been procrastinating for the longest time.

You happen to doze off first. But upon awakening, you notice that Byakuya’s head is resting against yours, his arms loosely wrapped around your waist. His book is closed beside him.

Ngl, you thought he was actually going to rock your shit the first time you squished his cheeks. His frosty glare was enough to make you draw back in shock, but it soon disappeared, accompanied by a sigh from him.

“You have one more opportunity to do that. Don’t waste it.”

Oh, you definitely don’t.

Fuyuhiko Kuzuryu

Someone is???? Smaller than him???

!!!!

That one inch of height makes him feel so powerful omfg.

Because of his job, he would rather keep any kind of affection hidden behind closed doors. The only people who he would let PDA slide around are those in his immediate circle, like his family, Peko, and whoever else serves directly under him.

He just wants to keep you safe, and he feels that the best way to do that is to not make it known that he has a soft spot for you.

You smile at the way his aloof, callous demeanor switches to a gentler, more amicable one when he sees you waiting for him to finish whatever job he’s been tasked with. His perpetual scowl melts away, the wrinkles of irritation blemishing his forehead smooth, and his distrusting, narrowed eyes round with an almost childlike, innocent delight.

You enjoy the latter side of him so much that it isn’t uncommon for you to cling to his waist and drop like dead weight, forcing him to drag you with him across the floor if he wants to return to work.

“Hiko… You can’t leave..!” You whine. “I’ll miss you..!”

“I’m sorry…” He huffs, taking another step while you’re dragged behind him like some ragdoll. “But I have things I need to take care of!”

You eventually sink into a heap on the floor when he reaches the door, making a half-hearted attempt to hold on to his ankles.

He chuckles and squats down in front of you. “I’ll be back later.” You sit up and sharply turn your head away with a pout. He gently yet firmly seizes your chin between his thumb and forefinger, directing you to look at him. “Promise.” His eyes are gentle, but you know he’s serious. You reluctantly release him.

“Okay,” you mumble. “Please, be safe.”

You know the, “When I was your age…” thing?

Yeah, Fuyuhiko does that shit. But, he does, “When I was your height…” instead.

A fucki.ng pO w e R trip.

He really likes the feeling of having you on his lap. It makes him feel like he’s actually capable of offering security to someone. Bonus points if you straddle his lap and hug him close in return, resting your chin on his shoulder.

Back-hugs? Back-hugs.

The first time you snuck up on him and embraced him from behind, he almost knocked you tf out. But over time, he’s gotten used to it. That doesn’t mean you don’t manage to catch him off guard from time to time. Feeling him jolt and hearing him yelp in shock when you wrap your arms around his waist never fails to make you laugh. One time, you laughed so hard that your legs gave out and you tumbled to the ground, accidentally dragging him with you.

Whenever he’s stressed, kisses always seem to be the cure. Sprinkled across his cheeks, tracing the edge of his jaw, following the shell of his ear, pressed to his fingertips--you name it. Whatever you have to offer, he’s more than happy to let you have your way and shower him with love.

You pay special attention to his freckles. Whenever he’s had a taxing day, you vow to kiss each and every freckle on his face. When you’re lulling him to sleep with his head in your lap, you smooth a feather-light fingertip over his cheeks, playing connect-the-dots with his freckles.

But there are just some days where he needs to be the baby, y’know? On those days, he likes laying with his face pressed into your stomach and his body curled into your embrace. You watch over him lovingly, tracing the designs shaved into his hair with a curious finger and slowly massaging his scalp.

He needs reassurance every now and then, verbal or otherwise. You are always more than willing to oblige, filling whatever role he needs at the moment.

He always takes necessary precautions, such as locking the doors and drawing the curtains, before he allows himself to strip his soul bare and lay all of his impurities before you. This is a side of him that no one else must know about. Otherwise, his reputation would take a massive blow.

Speaking of “baby,” it’s no secret that Fuyuhiko positively despises his baby face. You, however, adore it. You like to squish his cheeks and coo about how cute he is. He never resists you, and will even play along by puckering his lips at you if he’s in a good mood. It doesn’t change the fact that he doesn’t like his face, but if you seem to be fond of it, then maybe it’s not all that bad.

But if anyone else even thinks about touching him in such a manner, then that’s it.

Their ass is grass.

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achitka · 3 years ago

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Doors (an Encanto fanfic) Chapter 2

What will happen with them new shiny blank doors...Seriously the stress must be fun. This takes place where the movie ended, you know after the celebration. While these are actually character studies, I cannot say a story won't pop in there when I'm not looking. It is a vagary of my writing method. You should also note - a lot of these scenes are overlapping - Time can be funny like that.

Camilo

The day had been exhausting, but he had done it. He managed to get through the whole party without shape changing even once. He wondered if anyone even noticed. It was a lot harder to do than he expected, but it was worth it. A whole year of not shifting or being able to, made him realize he had relied heavily on it in social situations. He had even made actual friends with other kids his age in the town. Mirabel had helped with that the most. She seemed to know everyone’s name. Seriously, how did she keep them all straight?

He discovered quickly that he really wasn’t made for working on buildings. He and tools never got along and after a few ‘accidents’ his father suggested he help keep an eye on the kids who were too young for school. That was something he was good at, and it was fun to gather them together, putting on little shows for them. His Tío Bruno noticed this and gave him a few ideas for shows that he had written down. The parents of the Encanto would sometimes drop off a little one while they were working on rebuilding the Casita. It did not hurt that the children idolized him, of course. He had even managed to talk a few of the older kids into helping him with his shows when they weren’t busy with chores. It surprised him how enthusiastic they were. He had thought that he needed his Gift to do all those things. It was a revelation to discover he could still help people out and make friends, just being Camilo.

He yawned mightily and decided he had to just go to bed. Moving quickly down the darkened hallway, Camilo felt suddenly uneasy. Someone or something was behind him. He was sure everyone had gone home. He rounded a corner and stopped to listen for whoever or whatever it was. But there was nothing, like they'd stopped moving at the same time he did. Camilo took one small step and heard its echo around the corner. Startled, he took a quick step back and lost his balance and realized too late he was much too close to the stairs. He screwed his eyes shut, he was falling, and nothing would stop that. Camilo braced himself for the pain he knew was coming.

THUD

Whatever had been following him grunted in a satisfied fashion, then hands were on him, and Camilo lashed out.

"Hey, hey, Cam it's okay…Camilo!"

Wait…he knew that voice…he knew that voice.

"Are you alright? Open your eyes. It's okay, it's just me, Mirabel.

Camilo open one eye, focused on his cousin, and almost went limp with relief. Just a dream…just a dream. Still, it'd seemed so real. "Mira, you did not happen to see anyone hanging around…"

"No, but I was headed to the kitchen and saw you sleeping on the sofa…"

"Sofa?"

"Cam, you fell off it. That's why I came over here." She said, as she adjusted her glasses, which he saw were slightly askew.

Camilo hoped he wasn't responsible for that and sat up, letting out a nervous laugh, "Thought I fell down the stairs."

Looking back at Mirabel, he could see her look of concern and felt a moment of embarrassment that turned him crimson. That flared to anger and then back to embarrassment. Camilo sighed. Probably best to put it out of his head. He stood and thankfully Mira pretended not to notice any of it as he helped her up off the floor as well.

"Hungry?" she asked, smoothing her skirt. "I was headed for the kitchen after all."

"Snacks? Yes…race you," he said and took off full speed.

"Hey!" Mirabel shouted, but he heard her laughing and running behind him. There was a rule about not running in the house…usually. Both rounded the last corner at a dead run and skidded to a jarring halt (only thanks to Casita) just in front of Abuela. Startled, Abuela set down the small tray of tea and polvorosas she had been carrying with a slight clatter. "What are you two doing?" she asked in an amused tone. Still, Camilo and Mirabel immediately straightened.

"Sorry, Abuela," both said simultaneously.

She seemed to be waiting for more, and Mirabel said with a nervous laugh, "We were going to get some cookies..."

Abuela nodded and said, "Please do not run through the house," she said and was smiling as she retrieved her tray. “It's dangerous,” Abuela then calmly walked past them, "Dios Mio, what a menace." She moved into the hallway they had just vacated, all the while chuckling to herself. Camilo glanced at Mirabel. She was looking just as weirded out. A year ago, they would have been in for some serious tongue lashings. First from Abuela, then from their parents. So different.

"That is still unnerving." Camilo said when he was sure she was out of earshot.

Mirabel nodded in agreement. "I know, but in a good way? I'm certainly not complaining." and shrugged. "Come on, let's see if there are any more cookies."

Walking into the kitchen, both immediately spied the platter with the left-over sweets piled upon it. The snack foray was interrupted by Mira's mother, who walked into the kitchen from the opposite side.

"Please wash your hands, hijos."

Both stopped dead and turned back to the sink. How could she know they had not? After washing, they turned back to find Mira's mother was already gone.

They looked at one another…unsupervised snack time? This was an unexpected dream come true. There was a clatter of tiles behind them, and Mirabel just sighed. She turned around and picked up the small plates Casita had provided. Really small.

She handed him one, along with a cup that Casita had conveniently filled for them with lemonade. They sat at the table and Camilo stacked his little plate seven high. Mirabel took three and made a show of eating them with tiny bites.

"So," Mirabel began, "You been in your room yet?"

Camilo paused for a moment in his eating and shook his head. "I saw Dolores standing in front of hers, not sure if she went in though." Camilo knew that Dolores wasn't all that thrilled about the magic coming back. But she was so happy about Mariano that she did not seem to care. Mariano, of all people? "She probably did." Camilo said as he replenished his cookie stack. "What about you?"

"No, I’m not really expecting a whole lot and to be honest, I'm a little afraid to touch it."

"Really?"

"Really."

"Me too…"

Mirabel finished her last cookie and took her plate and cup to the sink. "I wonder if Hernando is available..." Mirabel gave a snort at her private joke and said, "I'm going to see if I can find Tío Bruno. There is something I want to ask him." She watched him snitch four more onto his plate and remarked, "You're going to make yourself sick."

"Nah, I will be fine. I'm a growing boy."

"If you say so, primo. Casita, do you know where Tío Bruno is?" There was an answering clatter of tiles and she replied, "Oh." She turned and headed for the door nearest the plaza, and absently waved as she disappeared around the corner.

Alone and full of sweets, Camilo wondered absently who Hernando was. He downed the last of the lemonade, gathered his dishes, plopped them into the sink and headed for the back stairs to the upper level. His room had always been right next to Dolores' and as he passed it, he saw the image of his sister etched into the wood and paused. Was she smiling? He walked up to 'his' door and just stared. Glancing over, he saw Antonio's was still blank too. Where was he? His brother had let slip that he was worried about the walls cracking. He had tried to reassure his little brother, but Antonio was one stubborn little kid. Getting and then losing his Gift within a few days was super hard on him. He was back to whisper talking again, like he lost his voice.

Camilo returned his attention to his own door and froze. Did he really want to do this? He had only just gotten used to not being able to shift. He could just walk away from it, not that it would change anything. There was a creak in the floor near him, and he looked over to see his father approaching.

"Hey Papá," Camilo said absently.

His father did not say anything, just came up and put a hand on his shoulder. They both stood and stared at the colorfully glowing wood for a while. His father broke the silence as he said, "You did well tonight, Camilo."

"Huh? I did not do anything." Camilo said, turning toward him.

"Exactly." His father said and grasped his other shoulder. "You did not shape-shift at all. It was nice to see you having fun. Your mother and I were very proud."

Camilo smiled at the praise, did a double take, and asked, "Wait, do not you want me to use my Gift?"

"Of course, Son, but for needed things."

Camilo thought about this, but wasn't coming up with anything that his Gift would actually be needed for, so asked, "What kind of needed things?"

"You'll know." His father sounded very confident about this and turned him back toward the door. Camilo, however, was not so sure. As if sensing his distress, his father continued, "Camilo, you've always been so giving to those around you. Working to make people smile and help them with their burdens. All you need to remember is that we all love you, just as you are."

Camilo smiled and nodded. Maybe it really would be okay. With his father's hand on his back, he gathered his courage and grasped the doorknob. The sudden rush of magic felt weirdly okay, and Camilo smiled as the magic flooded back into the door. Almost like it was trying to get to know him. Really weird, but nice. He walked into his room and paused to take in what he saw before him. It was actually a good size. Nice furniture...carpets. He hated getting out of bed onto a cold floor. He let out a relieved sigh. The thing he most feared was not present in his room.

"This is nice," his father said. "You know, it reminds me of my old room. Good size bed, nice mattress. Very nice."

"Yeah, it is." Camilo said as he lay down on his bed. Why was he so tired? "It's perfect Papá."

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

Félix waited for Camilo to be fully asleep and removed his sandals and ruana. His boy was getting big, but he managed to shift his son into a more comfortable position. Before he headed to the door, he noticed the lack of mirrors and wondered if it was Casita or Mira's influence on Casita that had brought about that tiny miracle. Camilo really did not need to practice; he could shift in his sleep if he chose to. Félix stopped at the door and looked it up and down. It was the same as before, but he noted the difference in Camilo's expression, etched so clearly. He chuckled to himself and wondered if Camilo would notice. He grunted with satisfaction and closed the door.

In the past, that face had worn a mischievous grin that exuded confidence. Confidence he knew Camilo did not feel when he was just himself. That smirk was gone, replaced by a smile of a shy young man, learning to be a confident one.

Link to Chapter 1 below

Next Chapter: Isabel and Luisa

#encanto disney #familia madrigal #felix madrigal #camilo madrigal #mirabel madrigal #encanto fanfic #abuela alma madrigal

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imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl · 4 years ago

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Californian Dream (Pt. 06 of 11)

Pairing: Billy Hargrove X Reader

Word count: 2.9 K

Summary: Being part of one of the richest families of California doesn't mean you're happy. Your life is boring, and you're surrounded by meaningless people and their meaningless talk. Even during Summer, with the break you have from college, there's nothing good going on. Nothing but the new pool guy, Billy, the most handsome man you ever saw. You were successfully avoiding him, not wanting to act like an idiot in front of the guy until Billy accepts to be your date for a fancy gala you're forced to attend. The night was going well, even better when he sneaked you out to go to the beach. But a gang of criminals breaks into the party, kidnapping the heirs to the wealthiest families, which includes you. So, for your safety, your parents want you to stay with Billy, living in his apartment until the criminals are caught. And that could take weeks, maybe even months.

Warnings: Light violence

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{Stranger Things Masterlist}

{Dacre Montgomery Masterlist}

Intimacy

In the last few days, you have been accompanying Billy on his job. Nobody made any questions yet, so you're good so far. You're trying not to think about the beach incident too much, and since your days are now occupied with something else than the news channel, you're succeeding. But today, there's this party Billy told you about. He briefly mentioned it, and since the subject never came up again, you concluded that he doesn't want you to go. But you won't let it go that easily.

So you've been trying to convince Billy to take you to this harmless party for the last two hours, and he just surrendered after you reminded him that he said he'd take you to one of his parties one day. And the day came, even though the circumstances aren't the ideal.

But it doesn't matter now, because you're already in his car, nodding your head at the beat of the song playing, breathing in the night air. You shiver a little since the thin straps shirt you decided to wear doesn't provide any protection against the cold wind.

“Should've taken a jacket,” Billy says, glancing at you.

“I'll warm up when I start dancing.”

“So you'll dance.” He chuckles, his free hand half covering his mouth. “That's something I'd like to see.”

“Well, if someone takes me out to dance, I might.” Shrugging your shoulders, you look away from him, secretly hoping he'll do exactly that.

It takes another ten minutes until he stops, the music already banging. Billy guides you around a small house until the back yard, which is crowded already. People are dancing, eating pizza, and playing cards, all laughing and shouting. It's so different from anything you've ever been to. Those formal meetings were always silent and dull, with everything following a schedule. But this... This is just people having fun, doing whatever they want.

“So? What do you think?” Billy asks, coming closer so he can make himself heard above the music.

“It's loud!” Your answer. “I love it.”

“Come. I'll introduce you to some friends.” He makes his way through the people to a plastic table on the back of the yard. All the five people in it smile to see him, happily waving. “What's up, guys? This is...” His voice fades and he stares at you. It hits you suddenly that you can't just say your name. It would be dangerous, but it only got to you now.

“Lily!” You think fast, reaching out your hand shaking theirs. “I'm Lily.”

“Hi, Lily.” They mutter, shouting above the music. The only one who didn't seem very interested, seated further away, keeps staring at you, but you pretend not to notice.

“Is she your girl?” The guy asks, and you immediately shake your head no.

“No–”

“No.” Billy says at the same time you do, and you both exchange a glance, your cheeks burning.

“I'm Chad.” The guy finally speaks, standing up from his seat and walking over to you. “A pleasure to meet you.”

You're not that innocent. It's obvious he's interested, and now that he knows you're not ‘Billy's girl’, he thinks he can make a move. “Yeah. It's nice to meet you too.” Stepping away, you glance at Billy, who has a weird expression on his face. He engages in a conversation with the others, and you try to keep up. Chad stands by your side, moving closer as if you weren't noticing.

Then, Beat It starts playing, and a smile immediately comes to your lips, and you can't help but move your shoulders and head to the beat. “I love this song.” You exclaim, and some of the guys nod.

“Come dance with me then.” Chad invites, already taking your hand and pulling you.

“No, thanks.” You tell him, standing your ground. But Chad doesn't let go of your hand, his grip tightening to the point you have no choice but to move forward.

“Alright. Let go of her.” Billy violently pushes Chad away, so suddenly it startles you. “Isn't it clear she doesn't want to go with you? Are you deaf or something?”

“What? If she's not your girl I can have my chance.” Chad raises his hands in defeat, tilting his head towards you.

“Fine. Then she is my girl.” Billy's storm voice is easily heard above the music, and when you give a glance at the table, everybody is up, looking very... Surprised. Your friends said Billy can get violent sometimes, so why do they look so... Perplexed?

“Alright. Just give me her phone when you're done running her pretty little–”

You don't even have time to react to his disgusting tone, because Billy is shoving him back, making him swallow his words and placing a hard punch on his jaw, and when he's stumbling back, Billy pulls him by the collar of his shirt, bringing his knee to his stomach. Chad jerks forward, a groan escaping his lips, before falling to the ground. Some people around are staring, the dancing long forgotten.

“If you'll get anywhere near her, I'll break your damn nose.” A kick on Chad's side, making him turn around, starting to crawl away. Billy finds you again, coming closer. “Are you alright?”

Why did he do that? You can defend yourself, even though you've never been in a situation like that. But... It makes you feel funny. Your whole body is hot, and you're trying to catch your breath. “Yeah.” Pushing the words out, you lock eyes with Billy. “...Thanks.”

“Don't bother.” He gives Chad one last look, but he's already far, limping away.

“No, I... That was really nice of you, Billy.” He always does that, as if the things he does aren't important. But this was very, very important to you. “Thank you.”

“Alright.” He nods, a hand on the small of your back, guiding you away from the table. “So, now that your my girl for the night, wanna dance?”

“Well, I do love this song.” Following Billy to the middle of the yard, you stop among the others, already dancing. But when you see how the others are moving, you notice it way too far from what you're used to. “Uhm... I don't think I can do that.” You tell him, tiptoeing to get closer to him an ear.

“I thought you knew how.”

“I can slow dance. I took classes but this... I've never been to any parties where people move like that.” Everyone is way too close to their dancing partner and you're very happy you didn't even consider trying to dance with Chad.

“Just feel the music.” He moves closer, a hand around your waist. “Is this ok?”

“Yeah.” Of course, it is. Billy pulls your closer and starts to move, and you soon follow. It doesn't take long until you're singing along too.

And when it really starts kicking in, you start moving by yourself. And it means you get closer and closer to Billy, spinning around, having his arms around you all the time. You never felt so wild, carelessly moving around, your body colliding with his way too many times, but he doesn't seem to care. And neither do you. You like it, and there's nobody else you'd like to dance with.

When Billy Jean starts banging, you turn to face him, arms around his neck as you follow the beat. Billy's grip on your hips is strong, keeping you there, close to his body. “I'll teach you how to slow dance.” You tell him when you're close to his ear. Billy makes a funny face, turning you around and pushing your back against his chest.

“I don't think that's really my thing.” He says, and you shiver to feel his hot breath on your neck.

Elbowing him lightly, you spin around, holding on to the collar of his jacket. “This was not my thing either but look at me now. I'm... Trying.” Shrugging your shoulders, you bump into Billy when a couple passes by, hitting your back. “Sorry.”

“You're not trying, you're great.” He smiles, and the proximity sends ideas through your mind. If you kissed him here... It would make sense. It'd feel right. Your eyes fall to his lips, and you want to know how they feel like so bad... Maybe it would turn you into another of his girls... But you want to try it... Maybe it's the music, or how you've been dancing together, or how amazing this crazy party is... Everything is pushing you to him, and you don't wanna fight it.

“Thank you.” You mutter, and you feel his hand on your face, fingers softly caressing your cheek. Billy never did that. Maybe he's intoxicated by the moment too. And moments pass. Soon enough they're in the past, and you don't want this to the just a moment. So you step down, putting some distance.

“What?” He asks, using his index finger to raise your face to meet his eyes again. “Everything alright?”

“Yes.” You smile, and for the first time, you notice you wish this could be a thing. Something real, solid... “I'm alright.”

“We should go home. Gotta work tomorrow.”

“Yeah...”

Billy says goodbye to his friends, and you silently make your way to the car. The ride home is also quiet, as you watch the night lights. There's this feeling, this sensation in your heart. Something you never felt before. Being around Billy has become one of your favorite things, and today, you realized just how close you wanna be. But still, you can't let this feeling grow. You're living together, and this will mess things up. Billy wouldn't fall for you, some rich kid, spoiled, stupid... The best thing to do is let it go, and hope it'll disappear with time.

“It's your turn on the bed.” He says when you're home already, in pajamas, the air-conditioning making you a little cold as you pour yourself some water.

“I know.”

“Did I do something wrong?” He asks, standing up from the couch. “You've been unusually quiet since we left the party. If I did anything you weren't comfortable with I–”

“No!” You exclaim, putting the empty glass in the sink. “That's not it. Today was amazing, I really enjoyed it.” Smiling, you look down at your feet. You never wanted him to feel bad about anything. “It was way better than the formal events I had to attempt... Maybe... Maybe you could take me to some parties, you know... When you're not with a girl.”

“I'm not seeing anyone, so... Guess you'll be my date for parties for a while.”

Biting your lip, you try to suppress the smile, but it escapes anyway. You're tired, eyes heavy, and you know how dangerous it is, how sleep pushes the words out. But right now, you don't care. You feel comfortable around Billy, even to admit the things you don't like talking about. “That's nice. Uhm... About that Chad guy. Thanks, again. Nobody ever did that for me and... I've already had to deal with guys flirting like that but nobody cared enough to stand up for me.”

“None of your boyfriends ever stood up for you?” Billy comes to the table, leaning against the it, right before you. “A pretty girl like you probably had many.”

A giggle escapes your lips, but a yawn covers it up. “Well... No. You know the options I have, so...” Shrugging your shoulders, you look into his ocean blue eyes, the kitchen light illuminating his handsome features. “I'll tell you something, but you have to promise not to laugh.”

“You know I can't promise that.” He chuckles, and you smile.

“Yeah, I know...”

“But go ahead.”

“I...” Putting a strand of hair away from your face, you lean against the countertop. “I never really kissed anyone. Well, there was this guy in my Freshman year in High School, but it was just a peck on the lips, not a real thing...” Squinting your eyes, you expect him to laugh, but a small, kind smile is everything you see.

“Why?” It doesn't sound like he's mocking you, but like he actually wanna know.

“I always thought that a kiss is something very... Intimate. I know it's silly and you probably think I'm some kind of prude.” Nervously, you pace around the kitchen, wondering why exactly you're telling him this. You never spoke of this to anyone, not even Amelia. “But to me it's something special, to be shared with someone special, and in my life, I never wanted to do that with anyone... Until now.” The last part just rolls out your tongue, and you immediately freeze, a hand running through your hair. “A-and you know, the guys I'm surrounded by are just jerks and the very thought of kissing any of them is disgusting.” You can feel his eyes on your back, as you pretend to fix the dishcloth, just to have something to do. “I'd rather die alone.”

“Until now?” Billy inquires, his voice a little darker now, stronger, deeper, echoing through your mind.

“Yeah, I just mean–”

“No.” Billy comes closer, touching your arm and taking the dishcloth from your hand, placing it on the table, away from your reach. “Tell me what you really mean. Don't dissimulate.”

Taking a deep breath, you step back, trying to put some distance between you and him, but your back hits the wall. “I just...” Avoiding his gaze, you run a hand through your hair. “From all the guys I ever met, you're the only one I ever... I ever considered kissing or... Maybe even dating, but that's just–that's just...” Shit. It took five seconds for you to admit everything you've been trying to keep hidden. How does Billy do that? How does he open your heart so easily? “I–I'm sorry. I gotta go.” You move, trying to reach the hall, eager for the comfort of the bedroom, where you will be alone with your thoughts for a while.

But you don't go far. Billy holds your arm, like Chad did, yet so differently. It's gentle, and you don't even try to resist it. You just stop, your eyes meeting his. “Don't go, just...”

“Forget I said anything. I told you, I get a little too brave when I'm sleepy and–”

You don't have the chance to finish, because his lips come crashing down on yours, so suddenly, yet so soft. One of his hands caresses your cheek, and the other finds its way around your waist, but instead of pulling you close, as he did while you were dancing, this time it just rests there, delicately. And you, who never kissed anyone, knows exactly what to do. Following his pace, slow and sweet, you move closer, your arms wrapping around his neck. When he puts some more pressure, deepening the kiss, you allow him in, your chest collapsing against his.

But the damn phone rings, so damn loud it makes you jump, stepping away from Billy, a hand on your lips.

He looks down at you for a while before rolling his eyes and moving to answer the phone. “Who's this?” He sounds annoyed, a little angry even. “Alright.” He turns at you. “Your father.”

“Oh.” Snapping out of the stupor, you go to the phone, giving Billy a small smile. “Hey, dad.”

The conversation goes on the same way it always does. How you're doing. If Billy is taking care of you, that the investigators are doing their best so you'll be able to go back home soon. But you're not sure if you wanna go back, to the huge bedroom you turned into a small apartment so you'd had a place to hide for days if needed. You're way better here, even though you don't know how things will be now.

When you hang up, you know how it'll be. Billy is used to kissing many, many girls, and that was just a kiss. At least your first real kiss was with someone you enjoy being with, and not one of those idiots. “I'll get some sleep.” You tell him, blushed cheeks as you give a little wave before closing yourself in the bedroom.

The night is restless, and every time you close your eyes you're kissing him again, over and over, until you can't think about else than his taste. And when you wake up, you know the day won't be any better. Billy went to Gisele's house today, and you couldn't go since everyone there knows you very well. And you didn't want to, because the memories you have there are many. So the day goes by pretty much the same way it always does, but this time you made yourself something for lunch.

When the evening is coming, you're just checking the news, to see if something else was found, or if the police are any closer, before starting off dinner.

You jump from your seat when the woman announces they released Alice, two days after the payment of five million dollars was made. She was found in an alley, across the state, unconscious... But that's not what shocks you, what makes you fall back into the couch, tears rolling down furiously and your whole body shaking. It's not the bruises on her face, the tiny cuts and scratches... What makes terror overcome you is that Alice wasn't set free in one piece.

You're frozen, eyes on the TV, but not really listening, the images just an indistinguishable blur. But when you hear the door opening, you set in motion, going straight into Billy's arms, sobbing, hiding your head on his chest.

“Hey.” He says, but you barely hear him above your cry. “(Y/N), what happened? You're scaring me.”

“They cut off her fingers.” You push out, trying not to stutter through the words. “They let Alice go but they cut off her fingers.”

@multific @dontxfearxthereaper @nope-thanks @nikkixostan @shinydixon @clockworkballerina @infinitelycharmed23

#imagine billy hargrove #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove fanfiction #billy hargrove x y/n #billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove #billy stranger things #stranger things #stranger things imagine #stranger things x you #imagine stranger things #stranger things fanfiction

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neptunetheplanet7 · 3 years ago

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𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐢𝐱 - 𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐢𝐭

DM ME IF YOU WOULD LIKE TO BE PUT ON THE TAGLIST!!

;mikasa ackerman x fem!lesbian!reader

;modern au, band au

word count: 1.5k

warnings: none!

sorry for the delay on this update. haven’t been feeling well these past two days.

listen to the music masterlist

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The repeated buzzing of your phone and the sound of your alarm shoved you out of a comfortable sleep. You had been dreaming about pleasant things before being pulled back into your reality. With your dream forgotten, you grumpily reached out to your sheet-covered phone, fumbling around to untangle the cord from the blankets. Upon its pickup, the bright screen flashed in your face and when your eyes adjusted to the exposure, they widened at what they saw.

Hitch's old contact was displayed in a notification banner from two hours before. "Having fun with your girlfriend?" you mumbled the text aloud. "For your information, I am." You glared at the words onscreen as if Hitch could see you through them. You thought it'd be best not to give her the attention she wanted from you. Irritably, you cleared the notification and tossed your phone on the mattress as you got up and stretched.

You fixed your hair and rubbed the sleep from your eyes before leaving your room with a sour look on your face. However, everything seemed to get a little better when you arrived in the kitchen, seeing your friends laughing together at the island like nothing happened between them.

Mikasa looked so different than the last time you saw her and you couldn't shake it. It wasn't a bad thing. You always thought she was beautiful. Her features had matured and she had a different presence, resulting in a different reaction from you. You could barely look her in the eyes without feeling flustered.

"Good morning, sunshine!" Jean jeered, startling you from your thoughts. Eren snickered as he handed you a cup of coffee.

He lowered his head to whisper in your ear. "Take a picture, it'll last longer." You nearly dropped your mug from his teasing jest.

"I see you still aren't a morning person." Mikasa smiled at you and you felt butterflies begin to rise in your stomach.

You nervously cleared your throat and pulled out the stool next to hers. "I like your hair."

Her eyes shifted to the strands that fell near the front of her face. Color bloomed on her cheeks. "Thank you. It was just in the way when it was long," she said quietly.

Armin approached the kitchen island with his phone in between his shoulder and his ear and his lips pressed into a thin line. He slid a bowl of cereal over to you. You thanked him and he just nodded with a smile before going back to whisper shouting suspiciously into the phone. They went to the other room, leaving you with your bandmates and Mikasa.

From the corner of your eye, you saw Eren pick up his phone and start typing furiously. Jean peeked over his shoulder and grinned. "Reiner? What's he up to?"

The name caught your attention and you looked up from your cereal curiously. "He wants us to go out with everyone again," Eren informed, everyone meaning a bunch of people you went to high school with and somehow ended up friends with all of them.

"Does he know I'm back?" Mikasa asked.

Jean shrugged. "We didn't tell him. Y/n told Sasha and Connie, though."

"Yeah, they're the only ones who know. In our friend group, I mean. We had to tell Hannes since he's the band manager and if you just showed up it'd probably give the poor guy a heart attack. It could be a nice surprise if we don't tell the group and just show up with her, though." Eren schemed.

"That would be so funny! Can you imagine the look on their faces when they see her?" In an attempt to imitate his friends, Jean made eccentric hand gestures and expressions.

"How would we get her in without telling them? If Reiner's planning, he'll need to know who's going to make a reservation," you asked logically, eyebrows furrowing.

Eren's face contorted into a thoughtful expression. He paused for a moment. "I've got it! We just say Y/n is bringing a plus one she wants them to meet," he said casually.

Jean took a large bite of his toast and pointed at Eren. "Sometimes you can be smart," he said with a mouthful of food. Eren looked both disgusted and offended.

You raised an eyebrow. "Why do I have to be the one bringing somebody?"

"It might give them hope of you not staying single forever." Eren gave you a stupid smile while you narrowed your eyes at him.

"I could find someone if I wanted to. You shouldn't be talking. It's not like you've ever been in a relationship," you chided back. He scowled.

"You never know, I might just fuck Floch out of spite." He glared. You laughed in surprise.

"Floch? Really? Even you could do better than that pinwheel." When he heard your insult, Jean snorted into his coffee and accidentally spilled some on his shirt.

"Damn, now I have to wash this shirt again." He groaned and rolled his eyes. Eren let out a boisterous laugh at his misfortune.

"That's what you get for laughing, hoe!"

"Oh, have a little sympathy, Jaeger," he grumbled while Mikasa grabbed a handful of napkins for him.

"Who's Floch?" Mikasa asked with befuddlement.

You whistled. "A real piece of work, that's what he is. He just doesn't stop flirting with me whenever I visit Connie at his job even though I've made it clear I'm not interested."

A sour look etched her features for a split second before she looked down at her empty plate. "Oh."

You frowned and glanced at Jean who was desperately trying to keep his shirt from staining. Eren was still trying to catch his breath as he went back to texting who you assumed was Reiner. Your suspicions were proven correct when he happily announced that everything was set for the dinner taking place that Friday night. Two days away.

He practically skipped into the hallway being followed by an aggravated Jean. You continued eating your breakfast while Mikasa got up started cleaning her dishes. Carefully, you eyed the way she slipped past you and wondered if you should say anything to her. You swiveled around in your seat and asked the question you were sure everyone was wondering.

"Where did you go when you left?"

Mikasa lifted her head and glanced over her shoulder at you. "I told the guys all about it while you were asleep so I'll explain it to you too." You nodded intently as she shifted her body to lean against the sink.

"At first I was just traveling around to see where I fit best. I ended up back in college for a year but none of it felt right, you know? What I love doing is playing in the band with all of you. I wasn't having as good of a time as I would here. I tried convincing myself I wanted to do school but it wasn't working out. I did a lot of thinking and noticed I was only running away from my problems and the people I loved. That's when I decided to come home."

You exhaled softly. Her brief explanation assured you that she wasn't going to leave again. "So you're coming back to the band?"

She looked off and shrugged again. "Hopefully I will. A lot has probably changed with you guys since I left. I haven't performed in a long time. I also haven't been involved with paparazzi for a while, either. It'll be hard getting used to that. Glad to see Hannes still puts up with you all."

You grinned. "Yeah, I don't know how he does it. Especially with Eren's dramatics. That's goood to hear, though. I missed you a lot."

She smiled at you genuinely. "I missed you too. Don't tell the others, but I probably missed you more." She winked and bit her lower lip. You flushed and laughed lightly.

"That's a relief. I was worried it'd be the other way around," you joked. You were glad conversations with her felt much more natural than you had expected. But, then again, this was Mikasa. Everything felt natural with her.

She reached out and fiddled with the ends of your hair, a gesture she used to do often with you. You hadn't seen her do it in a long time and you could feel the heat rushing to your face once again.

"It'll be pretty strange seeing me around so much again, won't it?" Her gray eyes were trained on yours as she continued to mindlessly play with your hair.

"I suppose it will be. I'll just have to get used to it."

posted: 8/30/21

no reposts, edits, or modification to my work by anyone other than me.

#aot fanfiction #band au #mikasa ackerman #mikasa x reader #mikasa x you #modern au #snk fanfiction #attack on titan

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doyelikehaggis · 4 years ago

Text

Twelve Days of Rarepairs: Allydia | Allison Argent x Lydia Martin (Teen Wolf)

Requested by @wonderdoves

Hosting a Christmas party is not something Allison ever really planned to do. She just figured that if parties happened to be going on, and she got an invite, she'd go. But throwing one herself? Absolutely not, for many levels of reasons.

Then again, she supposes she isn't throwing it herself. Technically it's not even her party, really—Lydia wanted to throw one, but her mom said no, so she asked to borrow Allison's house. Her dad's out of town with Melissa and won't be back until Christmas day, and her aunt Kate's flight was delayed, so she's still stuck in the airport for the next twenty-four hours or so. Leaving tonight totally free.

For the best, too. Right now, Allison can't even find her way through her own house. She knew it was big, but she didn't realize just how big until nearly a hundred people were crammed inside of it. And that's just a guess.

"Oh—sorry, excuse me," Allison apologizes as she knocks into someone with her shoulder while trying to wind her way past without spilling the cup in her hand.

The person ignores her. She just hurries on, taking a drink. Honestly, she isn't that thirsty, but she needed something to do to feel less awkward and out of place. Plus, Lydia made the punch, and it's surprisingly good when it doesn't have the secret ingredient of wolfsbane.

She narrowly avoids tripping over someone else's foot, stumbling slightly. When she turns back around, she spots Lydia quickly approaching.

Allison breathes a sigh of relief and stops in front of a rather annoyed looking Lydia.

"So, I've not only lost all of our friends in here somewhere, but I'm also ninety percent sure I've lost control of this thing entirely," Lydia tells her.

"Fantastic."

Allison moves a strand of hair away from her face, blowing out a breath.

"Well," she starts, letting her hand swing back to her side, "it could be worse, right? I mean, nothing is totally out of control, and everyone's having fun?"

Lydia raises an eyebrow. "Except you. And now me."

Allison rolls her eyes. "I'm not… not having fun. It is kind of nice to be able to relax a little. At least compared to what we're usually dealing with."

Lydia just gives a little hum in agreement, still not looking entirely sure as she surveys the shouting group hovering near them in the kitchen.

"Here—" Allison holds out her cup, nodding her head at it, "—have a drink. It might help."

"I'm stressed, not dehydrated," Lydia replies, but she still accepts the offer and takes a drink. "Though maybe a little bit of that, too. Thanks. I'm just glad I found you."

A small smile curves Allison's mouth. She tries to ignore the slight flush of warmth in her face. She knows Lydia just means because she's worried about the party getting out of control and she doesn't want to be separated with strangers. But it still makes her a little bit happier to think she brings her some comfort. That feeling of safety that Allison gets every time she catches a glimpse of strawberry blond hair or that smile or their eyes lock across a room.

The eyes she quickly realizes she's been gazing at for a moment too long.

Snapping out of it, she quickly looks away, swallowing. Her heart thumps against her ribs accusingly. It's silenced when her eyes dart up.

Oh.

"What?" Lydia asks, spotting her expression, now fixed on the doorway above them. Frowning, she follows her line of sight before Allison can stop her.

She sees the sprig of mistletoe. One of many that they hung throughout the house, as insisted upon by Stiles when he and Scott came over to help them get the party ready.

"Oh," Lydia says.

Allison's gaze drops back to Lydia. She just stares up at the mistletoe with wide eyes, her lips parted as if to speak, but the words are getting lost on the way out.

"I guess we should have expected something like this," Allison jokes, giving a half shrug and a forced chuckle. Trying to disguise how pink her face must be right now and keep the butterflies in her stomach calm.

Lydia shifts her eyes from their captor to meet Allison's gaze. She presses her lips together, chewing on her lower lip. For a second, Allison thinks she's going to say how it's just some dumb, old tradition, and that she is not going to be a part of keeping something so pointless alive.

But she doesn't say that. She doesn't say anything. Doesn't make a getaway excuse. Her throat shifts as she swallows and takes a deep breath.

Then in a rushed exhale, she says, "You know, hanging mistletoe in a doorway comes from a Norse legend."

Allison's heart sinks. She nods, and smiles. She promised herself that if Lydia didn't show any sign of sharing her feeling by the end of the night, she'd let it go and move on. And reciting a Norse myth seems like a desperate attempt to get out of kissing her without just rejecting her. Even if it would be unknowingly.

"Yeah," Allison says. "The, uh… the legend of Balder. Loki tricked Balder's twin brother into murdering him with mistletoe wood."

Lydia looks startled that she already knows. But surely that gives her an easy out then, right?

"Yeah! Yeah, um…" Lydia doesn't move. She still stands there, glued to the spot, back to chewing at her bottom lip. Her face lights up, and she quickly says, "Well, uh, there are other legends, of course! People tend to mix them up with holly, because they look so similar, so people think that red berries mean mistletoe when, actually, they're quite different. And everyone knows that mistletoe is usually extremely toxic, to both humans and animals. As we know… from past experience."

Allison's just staring at Lydia, her eyebrows raised. She thought she knew where this was going. This? This is not it. Before she can say anything, Lydia's continuing her rambling, at such high speeds it's almost hard to keep up.

"It's toxicity actually varies quite a bit based on region, though, which—"

"Lydia," Allison starts. "We don't—"

"—can actually be really interesting!"

"Lydia."

"There are many different types of mistletoe, with different scientific names. Viscum album, viscum cruciatum, even Phoradendron leucarpum, which is native to North America!"

"That's—that's really interesting, but—"

"Viscum album—the European mistletoe—is more toxic than Phoradendron serotinum, which is the kind that we're most familiar with."

"Oh, that's—I mean—"

"And, despite the fact that all one-thousand-five-hundred types of mistletoe are toxic in most situations, it used to be used for medicinal purposes to treat things like arthritis, epilepsy! It's still used in parts of South Asia, because the effects aren't fatal. Disturbing and, frankly, unpleasant, but not fatal! In fact, the effects tend to be more prominent in animals. Which, wouldn't be good for any of our friends. But—"

"Lydia," Allison finally cuts her off. Her eyebrows are as far as they can be on her forehead. "You're rambling a bunch of scientific facts to me, and honestly, it's a little scary."

Lydia nods, pressing her lips together again. "Yeaaah. Sorry."

Allison pauses, thinking, this is her one opportunity, there will never be a better time, and—Lydia isn't running away. She's nervous rambling science to her. But she's not using her usual methods of getting out of something she doesn't want to do.

Shutting her brain off before she can overthink it, she goes for it.

"I want to kiss you," she tells Lydia. "If you don't want to kiss me, that's fine, we can ignore the mistletoe entirely and move on. Okay?"

The blunt confessions throws Lydia off her usually perfect guard. She blinks those wide eyes, her lips parting but nothing coming out.

"Uh, y-yeah," she fumbles out, then shakes her head, "I mean—I'm okay with it. Kissing you, I'm okay with kissing you—that sounds so lame, oh my god—I want to kiss you, too!"

"Okay," Allison laughs, and leans in.

Her skin is on fire before her lips find Lydia's, and her stomach is doing olympic style flips when she does kiss her, and Lydia's kissing back with an eagerness she definitely wasn't expecting.

If anything, she was certain it'd be a quick, funny peck on the lips, and that's it over and done with, just a fun little moment to laugh about. But Lydia doesn't pull away, and Allison is not going to be the one to pull away first.

Instead, they keep kissing. Lips moving together, Lydia's hands on the sides of Allison's neck, holding her closer.

Next second, someone bumps into them. They break apart out of surprise, Lydia trying not to spill Allison's drink. The person's already stumbled away.

They both look back at each other, Allison's heart in her throat, and Lydia's eyes widening again. She draws her tongue across her bottom lip as she clearly falters for what to say now, but it's actually incredibly distracting.

"So…" Lydia starts, uncertain. Then a small smile forms at the corners of her mouth. "You wanted to kiss me? Any particular reason? Is it because of my lipgloss? It is especially appealing tonight, extra shiny."

Allison can't help but smile at Lydia's teasing tone. It appears her nerves have fluttered off and left behind her usual cool, calm composure.

"That is one reason," Allison says, nodding, and Lydia gives a curious little hum, arching an eyebrow. "But also… because I've wanted to kiss you for a while. Because I really like you. A lot."

"Yeah, I think I got that," Lydia says, barely containing the shake of laughter in her voice and absolutely failing at disguising the sparkle of delight in her eyes. "I just cannot believe that you confessed before I did. And under the mistletoe."

Allison can't even begin to comprehend the "before I did" part. She just laughs as well, shaking her head and faking a wince.

"Wow, of all the cliches," she jokes.

"Well, personally, I don't mind a cliche here and there," Lydia says, with a smile that makes Allison's breath catch in her throat.

She pushes it out and quickly draws in another, returning her smile as she says, "Neither do I."

#teen wolf #twedit #twrarepair #allydia #allison x lydia #lydia x allison #allison argent #lydia martin #twelve days of rarepairs #rowing the rarepair rowboat #myedits*#wonderdoves #so yed they may not be the Rarest pairing #but I love them and this was such a sweet prompt so once again Thank You!!#hope you enjoy!!

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kimnamjooonz · 6 years ago

Text

Blank Space - Chapter 15

New Romantics

Songs Used In This Chapter:

New Romantics - Taylor Swift

I Want To Break Free - Queen

Good Old Fashioned Lover Boy - Queen

Fat Bottomed Girls - Queen

'We are bored, we are so tired of everything, we wait for trains that just aren't coming. We show off or different scarlet letters, trust me, mine is better. We are young, but we're one the way to ruin, we play dumb but we know exactly what we're doing. We cry tears of mascara in the bathroom, honey, life is just a classroom.''

Los Angeles

Morgan's time in L.A went in a completely unexpected way as what she had imagined but for the better, and she was thrilled about it.

She and Taylor were on the terrace of a trendy coffee shop informing everything that had happened to an astounded Lucas.

''There was no audition. They literally went ahead and offered me the role. One of the casting directors basically begged me to do it.''

''And did you accept it?'' Lucas asked with eyes wide open.

''Of course! This is my dream come true, Lucas!''

He looked confused for a moment as he had no idea what dream role Morgan had got. And only God knew how many dream roles Morgan had.

''And may I know that dream role of yours you just got?''

''I can’t say it out loud.''

Lucas almost laughed. He knew it was not Morgan's fault. She was probably told not to say a word to any living soul. He wondered if she was cast to Game of Thrones or Marvel. Those guys were known to be secretive as hell. Or maybe she had landed a role in Star Wars or the DCEU.

''Who are you playing? Lord Voldemort? I swear that if you have Sebastian Stan as co star again, my head is going to snap in half.''

''Ha, ha, very funny'' she said with sarcasm. ''But I admit it'd be fun to play Voldemort. Okay, I can't say it out loud but I'm going to write it down.''

She grabbed a napkin and a pen that she had in her purse and started writing something. Taylor rolled her eyes at how silly Morgan could be.

''Here it is'' she handed the napkin to Lucas who read it, his face slowly turning from sarcasm to amazement.

''Oh. My. God. No wonder they are secretive.''

''Destroy the evidence.'' Morgan insisted, making Taylor laugh at how extra she was.

Lucas tore the napkin in little pieces.

''How did you got that role without even auditioning?''

''I don't really know.'' she was genuinely honest about that. ''But I'm not complaining. Well, we have two days for us in L.A. We have to do something.''

''First of all, there's something else...'' Taylor started and Morgan's spirits fell.

Maybe Sebastian was in L.A and she had to meet him for something she didn't know, completely ruining the 'let's be apart from each other challenge' Morgan had invented without his knowledge. And make him wonder where she was and what she was doing was giving results.

''If Damien wants to send Sebastian and I to go to Disneyland to kiss with fireworks at the background, he can save it because I'm not going to do it.''

''It's not that but it's admirable how fast you thought about Sebastian Stan.'' Taylor teased and Morgan rolled her eyes.

''Very funny. I'm used to his plots to get us together so nothing surprises me anymore.''

''Whatever'' Taylor rolled her eyes this time. ''It's not that what I wanted to tell you. IMG Models called me this morning.''

Morgan's face lit up.

''Please tell me that they want me to cover British Vogue.''

''Yes, they called me while you were in Toronto. I think I forgot to call you after everything that's happened.'' Morgan's face was really ridiculous at that moment. ''They want you to cover the January 2019 edition and they want you to be an snow angel or an snow queen for the photoshoot.'' Morgan looked elated, even though that wasn't what Taylor wanted to say to her. ''But... why they called was because apparently Victoria's Secret has been hearing your fans demands and now they want you to walk in the show.''

''WHAT?'' shouted Lucas, almost chocking with his coffee.

''Are they on drugs?'' asked Morgan. ''They are really going downhill if the want to hire an actress that doesn't know anything about walking on the runway, only for views.'' Morgan rolled her eyes, not taking the Victoria's Secret proposal really seriously.

''Well, they have Kendall Jenner who has less facial expressions than a rock. Without counting that you, me and Sebastian Stan in The Winter Soldier movie have better walks than her'' said Lucas with all honesty.

''And that's correct'' said Taylor who seemed to want Morgan to walk in that show. ''You should totally do this''

But Morgan had already taken a decision.

''No.'' she simply said.

''WHAT'' Lucas shouted again.

''Morgan, please'' begged Taylor.

''No. I don't want to. I'll have to work out and go on a diet and believe me, I don't want to do that.'' she bit the croissant that she was eating that was delicious. The thought of not eating them for a while made her heart ache. ''They should hire a real model instead of me. They are hundreds of them lining up to be the next Victoria's Secret angel.''

''PLEASE, MORGAN!'' shouted Lucas and Taylor at the same time.

''You can be the next Angel. Alessandra Ambrosio retired. Adriana Lima is retiring this year. Only Candice is left from the good old days. You can be the next iconic Angel because you have charisma, elegance and fierceness.'' said Lucas.

Morgan still looked impassive, eating her croissant with all the calm in the world.

''No.'' she simply said. ''Being a Victoria's Secret Angel was never among my dreams. But... maybe I'll do it next year, if I want and if they have Taylor Swift performing at the show.''

Taylor was desperate.

''I'm sure that if you say yes they'll get you Taylor Swift, the fantasy bra, the Swarowsky outfit, a crown, you opening and closing... anything you want. Morgan, please, just imagine Sebastian's reaction''.

Morgan almost choked with the croissant.

''And now I'm even more convinced that I shouldn't do this. You're dead wrong if you think I'm doing something only to please Sebastian.''

In a very bad temper, she stood up and left.

Annoyed, she walked towards the coffee shop's bar only to find non other than Chris Evans there. It was almost funny.

''How little is the world'' he mumbled when he saw her.

''In L.A do you find random celebrities in coffee shops?'' she asked with her eyebrows raised. ''Because in New York I haven't met any in a normal environment. Well, maybe Sebastian. But... I don't really want to mention Sebastian'' she sat beside him.

''Yes. You meet random celebrities in the streets here. Once I met James Franco in the bathroom of a McDonalds. But in my case I just left Dodger for a grooming at the vet in the front.'' he pointed to a vet shop at the front of the cafe. ''I'm just waiting for him and then I found you. And how are you? What are you doing in L.A?''

''I got offered a project. I can't tell you about it if I don't want to be fired from it''

''I know all about secret projects. You're talking to Captain America.'' Chris doubted if he should ask the next question but he did it anyway. ''And... how is Sebastian?''

Morgan just shrugged her shoulders.

''It's been messy, I'm not going to lie.'' she could talk to Chris with honesty as he knew that there was funny business between she and Sebastian. ''I'm sure for him this is pretty confusing to. I think I've messed up his world.''

''You totally did. And not only his world but the whole world''

Morgan had to admit that he was right. And she actually liked that. She was only scared that the whole fame think could backfire someday.

''Victoria's Secret contacted me to walk in their show'' she suddenly said.

Chris muttered a small 'wow'.

''And... what did you say?''

''No. I don't think I'd be any good. Not this year, at least. If they ask me again next year, which I doubt, maybe I'll think about it.''

''I think you'd be good. I watched that show a couple of years ago and the models were beautiful but the lacked charisma, something that you have in great quantities. And I think you'd enjoy it.''

''Really?'' Morgan was intrigued why Chris thought that she'd liked to walk around in underwear and a pair of wings.

''Yeah. People looking at you, the camera fixed on you, the flashes, the felling like you own the world... yeah, I associate these kind of stuff with you.''

''So, you're saying that I like attention?'' she asked with raised eyebrows but not at all offended.

''Yes. But you're not desperate for it. You like getting the attention you deserve. That's why you turned Victoria's Secret down. Because you think that a real model should have been called instead of you.''

''How are you so good at reading people?'' she asked. ''Do you have a superpower? Dammit.''

Chris laughed, with his typical movement of placing his hand on his chest that she had seen so many times before, in her fangirl days.

''No, but you're easy to read. Just like Sebastian. You two are soulmates, I'm not joking.''

Morgan rolled her eyes.

''I bet you are, Evans''

Chris was about to laugh when an alarm on his phone sounded.

''Gosh, I have to pick Dodger up. Will you come with me? Then we can just walk around, have some fun. What do you say?''

Morgan liked the idea but she was totally sure that they were going to be pictured together and dating rumous would fly. And she wasn't interested in being romantically linked with Chris Evans even though she knew it was inevitable if she wanted to spend some time with the guy.

And it was all fun and games to hide from Sebastian but being romantically linked to someone else wasn't the best idea. She wasn't interested in making Sebastian jealous as she knew that it was a stupid move.

Her brain was working at full speed and she almost jumped when she got the solution. She slowly caressed the chain of the necklace Sebastian had given to her. She always wore it under her shirt but this time she took it out to make visible to everyone to see.

It was inevitable that there were going to be pictures of her with Chris but she also wanted to send a message to Sebastian. Something like 'Hey, I'm wearing your necklace in public. You're the only one that I want.' She just hoped that Sebastian got the hint. If he didn't, he was an idiot.

''Let's go. To be honest, I don't really want to spend my evening with my team trying to talk me into walking at that goddamned fashion show. And I also want to meet Dodger.''

Chris opened the door for her and together they stepped outside.

New York

Sebastian was spending his evening

with Florence and for once, it was actually being kind of fun. It was as if the absence of Morgan from New York had lifted a weight from his shoulders.

For Florence, it was as if the sun was shining again, without the stormy presence of that woman. She was praying that somehow Morgan fell in love with Los Angeles and decided to stay there forever. However, she still had some more months in New York, at least until she finished filming with Sebastian.

''I can't cook, so we should ask for take out.'' said Sebastian, who was rumbling into the almost empty cupboards of his kitchen. He seemed to only have bread, that looked as it was there since his Gossip Girl days, and a almost empty pot of Nutella. Classy.

''Chinese?'' she proposed.

''I was thinking about Italian.''

As none of them could agree in what to eat, they ended up eating some fast food from McDonalds.

For some reason that Sebastian didn't know, Morgan was back into his head. He was wondering what was she doing in L.A and even considering calling her. That was probably useless because she was not going to answer.

They were watching some random movie and that was the only thing that was interrupting the silence. However, none of them were very into the movie.

Sebastian was thinking about Morgan and Florence was glancing around Sebastian's living room with her eyes fixed on a picture of him sandwiched between Nicole Kidman and Morgan Llewellyn in the last Toronto Film Festival.

''Do you want tea? That's something I have and I know how to prepare''

Florence appreciated the enthusiasm with he was saying those words.

''Do you have honey? Or milk?''

The smile on Sebastian's face fell.

''Well... no... but I can do a quick shopping at the shop across the road.'' he kept fumbling in the cupboards. ''Hell, I don't even have sugar...just, please give me five minutes.''' and he left the apartment running.

Once Sebastian left, Florence was free to fulfill her own curiosity. She grabbed her phone and searched for Morgan's Instagram account. It wasn't as if she cared about her life but she needed to know to what extent she publicly cared about Sebastian.

It seemed that nothing at all. She scrolled throughout her feed only to find selfies, photoshoots and pictures with her famous friends. She had even cropped out Sebastian from almost all of the pictures taken in Toronto, except the one with him and Nicole Kidman, the same one that Sebastian had hung on his wall.

She couldn't resist talking a look at her tagged pictures and she didn't know how she ended up at the Morgan Llewellyn Updates account.

The first update was about Morgan being considered for the Victoria's Secret Fashion Show. What did the Victoria's Secret executives had in their minds at considering Morgan? Did they want to turn it into the Morgan Llewellyn Fashion Show? They basically wanted to sell their souls to the devil (Morgan) for views.

But Morgan had rejected the offer with the excuse of having 'scheduling conflicts'. However, she had left the door opened for next year. So, if the show's rating flopped, Morgan was still there.

Florence looked at the next update and almost dropped her phone to the floor. There she was, as beautiful as always, rocking a chill and simple outfit with high heels and walking round the streets of Los Angeles with no other than Chris Evans and his dog.

Florence wanted to sing and dance. She could swear that a victory song was playing in her head.

She was crossing fingers for Evans and Llewellyn to fall in love, get married and live happily ever after in his big Los Angeles home with her cat and his dog. They for sure made a beautiful couple.

But deep inside she knew that this was never going to happen. Morgan Llewellyn seemed to like ruining people's lives and she had many months ahead of filming with Sebastian. And the whole world was rooting for them to be together. And Morgan liked to please her people.

''Why do you look so happy?'' Sebastian asked when he got back with the groceries.

''Found some good news. You'll like them too.''

She handed Sebastian the phone with a big smile on her face.

It took Sebastian a couple of seconds to recognize the people on the picture, but when he did he felt a ugly sensation in his stomach, something that felt like a pang in his chest and for a moment he felt as if he was breathing shattered glass.

So Morgan and Chris, eh?

He just wanted to fly right then to L.A and interrupt this whole sham or at least call Chris to stop doing whatever he was doing with Morgan. But then he noted something he hadn't before. He zoomed on the picture and could clearly see the star necklace he had given to Morgan hanging from her neck.

He stated laughing, leaving Florence utterly confused. But Sebastian was just admiring Morgan and being thankful to Lucas Williams.

Morgan knew what she was doing. Yes, she was having fun with Evans but at the end of the day, she was wearing his necklace in public, and she knew perfectly well that it was going to mean a lot to Sebastian. It wasn't a coincidence. Maybe to the general public it was a little detail about Morgan Llewellyn having a necklace. For Sebastian the gesture shouted 'Hey, I'm with Evans now but, it doesn't mean anything.'' Or that was what he hoped.

''You minx'' he mumbled looking at the picture. ''I know exactly what you're doing and I love you for that''

''Excuse me?''

Sebastian had absolutely forgotten about Florence's presence.

''Ummm... this doesn't mean anything. It's just a bet between Morgan and I about who gets to sleep with Evans first''

He felt that somehow he was making things worse.

''WHAT?''

''It's just a joke'' he explained. ''We all know that Morgan is going to get it first.'' he prayed, with all his heart, to be wrong with his statement.

''So you want to sleep with Chris Evans?''

''Who doesn't...''

Sebastian was just absentmindedly answering because all his attention was on the comments of the picture.

He could read stuff like 'Chris and Morgan outsold.', 'I'm all about MorganStan but Chris and Morgan are also hot as hell', 'Chris, I love you but I need you to get away like right now', 'Chris Evans, stop making holes in my ship!', 'If Seb and Morgan become another case of Kate and Leo and they never date and she marries Evans instead I'm flying myself off a cliff' (same, girl, same, Sebastian thought), 'Why is everyone blaming Chris Evans for wanting to sink the MorganStan ship when Florence is literally right there', there was even a reply to that comment that went by the very harsh words of: 'Because Chris Evans is actually relevant.'

Those people were nuts but Sebastian found himself agreeing with many of them.

''So are you going to say something?'' Florence demanded.

''Don't worry, it's just a joke between actors, nothing serious, I was juts me... WHAT THE HELL''

''What now?''

But Sebastian wasn't listening anymore. If he though he had never worn that necklace in public... well, he was wrong. he was just finding out that he had let everyone see it at a Comic Con in Houston, not long ago. And someone else had noticed and posted his picture next to Morgan's with the caption 'If this is the same necklace I'm fainting.'

And people had got on board with it. 'Morgan and Seb wearing matching jewellery, I'm living for it.' and 'This reminds me of Taylor Swift and Harry Styles paper airplane necklace situation in 2013 and I'm having an stroke right now.'

Yeah, and he was too living for it. He sent a text to Morgan saying 'I got your message.' And for the first time in days Morgan replied with a simple winking emoji.

Los Angeles

Morgan and Chris had made it to his beautiful house without any inconvenience apart from a couple of paparazzis. She knew that the pictures were all over the Internet, thanks to Sebastian's message. She was happy that everything had worked out in the end.

''What do you want to eat?'' he asked her.

''If you're ordering food, always Italian.''

''I was planning to cook, but I guess I can make pasta.''

So he could cook too. And Chris Evans was right there demonstrating how much better than Sebastian he was. And Morgan was cursing herself because instead of choosing Chris, who was a dreamboat, she wanted Sebastian, who probably couldn't place a bowl of instant soup into the microwave.

''And I guess I'd sit there and watch because I can't cook.''

''I imagined that for some reason.'' he looked at her with a mischievous smile and she looked back at him with raised eyebrows. ''What I mean is that... I've been working with Sebastian for almost ten years and you're very similar to him. What is more, I've never meet anyone as similar to him as you are.''

''Really?'' Morgan looked at him with a confused expression.

''Yeah. I've seen that face before, believe me.''

It was not the first time that she heard that comparison. Taylor said it all the time (and she didn't see their similarities under a positive light) and even Damien Chazelle had mentioned it.

''Whatever you say'' she rolled her eyes playfully sat in the counter, facing Chris, who was taking the ingredients for the pasta from the cupboards. ''Let me put some music, please, to motivate you, so you can make a good pasta.''

''Believe me, Llewellyn. My pasta is the best.''

''We'll see.''

Queen was playing around the house and both of them were moving to the music. Chris almost burned himself for being way too into the song.

It was so incredibly domestic that Morgan was quite confused. They were dancing in the kitchen while he cooked (like in that awesome scene between Harry Osborn and Mary Jane Watson in Spiderman 3) and she could even see Dodger running in the backyard.

Morgan knew that she could have all of that if she wanted, with very little effort. But that was the thing, she didn't want to. She wanted the angry dumpster prince that couldn't cook to save his life, couldn't put his life together and had the special ability of making very dumb decisions.

Maybe it was because behind her beauty, talent and glamour, she was exactly the same. A hot mess.

Domestically numb? Check.

Didn't have a life plan apart from acting, being famous, popular and pretty? Double check.

Made stupid ass decisions that made no absolute sense? Triple check.

For a moment she was so caught in her own thoughts that she didn't notice that Chris was talking to her, thankfully about something that wasn't related to Sebastian in any way.

The day went by in a pretty easy going mood. Chris not only made really awesome pasta but he could also bake. He was a real life Prince Charming. And somehow Morgan still craved for Sebastian sassy remarks while eating pizza under a tree in a park wearing their expensive clothes. Why would she want that, it was a mystery. If Chris Evans couldn't take Sebastian out of her mind, she doubted that she could get over him someday.

They spent a very nice evening, talking about everything and everyone, eating cake and even playing with Dodger. It was perfect.

As the evening was turning into the night, they comfortably settled in Chris's comfortable sitting room, eating popcorn and watching Leonardo DiCaprio movies, with Dodger in the middle of them.

At some point while watching Titanic, that both of them had watched countless of times, they went back to the Sebastian topic. It had started with Chris commenting a funny anecdote on the set of The First Avenger.

''...I swear that he's the sweetest person on earth but that doesn't make him perfect'' said Chris. ''No one is, that's the truth. Sometimes he make that choices that leave anyone around him, speechless. Me included. Like dating that Florence girl for example... it's just... stupid. They have nothing in common. She's supposed of nice and everything but...' it seemed like Chris disagreed with Florence being nice. '...she's one of those persons that wants every person in the world to be nice to them, when we all know that life's not like that. She's the kind of person that complains to the manager when the Starbucks barista doesn't have pumpkin spice to her latte and ruining the poor kid's day''

Morgan wasn't even trying to hide her satisfaction. She had thought that Florence was a goody two shoes local like her sister in law Lila but no, she was one of those annoying persons who couldn't let other people live. No wonder Sebastian's fans disliked her, even though they didn't know what Chris had just told her. For now. She was going to find a way for them to know. Not directly, of course.

Yes, Morgan could be devious, selfish, a drama queen and even a snake, but she tried to treat people with kindness.

''That is... yikes.'' Morgan looked outraged and Chris smiled.

''Yeah. I met her twice and I didn't like her. And judging by your face, she's not your favourite person in the world and I sort of know the reason why.''

She didn't need to explain anything to Chris. She knew that he knew.

''Oh God, this is so messed up.'' he said. ''With this material I can write a romcom and you and Seb can act in it. Let's sum this up: you've loved him for five years without knowing him, then you meet him and you dislike him, then you love him again but this time you love the real person, but he has a girlfriend who you discovered just now that she's kind of asshat, and now, apparently he's in love with you too and if you two get together, the media storm may damage your careers. It's a mess.''

''When you say it like that, it sounds like chaos. Why is this happening? I don't understand.''

''Because both of you are chaotic. You are... well, you. And Sebastian relationship history is pitiful. If you two get together there will be even greater chaos or you two will finally settle down with each other. I'm quite inclined for the second option. I think you two are soulmates.''

That was the moment Dodger chose to get tired of the conversation and left the coach, leaving Chris and Morgan alone. If he could talk he would have cursed them.

''I'm going to get us more popcorn.''

While he was gone she had enough time to think about all the information Chris had given her. Her mind was already making plans. For a moment she had forgotten that she was relaxing on Chris Evans's wonderful sofa. It was like a dream.

''Earth to Morgan'' he suddenly said. ''I know you have a lot of information inside that head of yours but... calm down for a moment.'' he placed the popcorn bowl on her lap, leaving his hand resting on her arm. Morgan hadn't miss that detail, let alone when he placed his whole arm softy around her shoulders.

After an exhausting week, full of emotional turmoil and running away from the person she wanted the most to be near, she found herself craving this touch.

Yeah, it wasn't Sebastian (and to be honest, nothing compared to him) but... it was the best option after him, at least for the moment. Damn it, it was Chris Evans, prince charming in person, gorgeous and sexy as hell... but he also deserved better. He deserved someone with their head in its right place and that certainly wasn't Morgan.

''Are you up for a little distraction?'' he asked, with a cheeky smile but also blushing intensely.

Of course she was. Who wouldn't. But she needed to state the rules clearly before. Not for her sake but for his.

''I am. But only as a distraction.'' he smiled sadly at her words, perfectly understanding what she was trying to say. ''You don't deserve me, Chris. That's the sad truth. You deserve better than me. Someone who's not in love with your co-star, for example.''

With all the tenderness in the world, he traced her cheekbone with her thumb.

''You deserve the world. But... you don't want what you deserve. I don't know what will happen in the future with you and Seb, I totally understand that your heart is with him, and it will be there for a long time. I won't try to convince you otherwise. I'm just offering a distraction and some fun. Everyone needs it from time to time.''

His playful smile was really something else. And not even in her wildest dreams she had imagined that Chris Evans was, someday, going to offer himself so openly to her. She'd better take that goddamn chance.

New York

The day after the Chris Evans-Morgan storm, Sebastian was in a coffee shop, drinking a latte and reading the last number of Vogue, the one that Morgan had covered. A very old Taylor Swift song was playing in the background, back from the days when that girl sang country music. Wow, the past was weird. Back then hardly anyone knew him (people confused him with Chace all of the time), Marvel wasn't even a thing, Chris Evans was the last failed Human Torch, Morgan Llewellyn was a teenager who wanted to act, was stuck on a farm somewhere in Wales with another name and Taylor Swift sang country music.

Now the world was a crazy place. He was famous (even more than Chace), Marvel was the biggest franchise in the world, Chris Evans was Captain America and also a superstar, Morgan Llewellyn was everywhere, from covering Vogue to being the face of Chanel, and she was also getting a mysterious acting project. And she had shaken his world so hard that he doubted that he could ever be who he was before meeting her. And Taylor Swift sang pop.

He kept passing the pages of Vogue and reading some parts of Morgan's interview, the most interesting bits and the parts that he didn't know. And whoever that had shot the pictures had done a damn good job highlighting Morgan's spectacular eyes. Now every time he closed his eyes he had those purple-blue eyes engraved in his brain.

''Earth to Sebastian!'' it was his friend Charlie, the person he was waiting for and the only one of his friends who had agreed to meet him. Toby and Chace were working in some project he didn't know about, Will was tired of him after his latest Morgan related tantrum, Joe was in England having his superstar moment, Anthony was filming something somewhere and Chris was roaming the streets of L.A with Morgan Llewellyn.

''Sorry, I was... distracted.'' he didn't have enough time to push the magazine away from him.

''I can see that. She's pretty... distracting.''

''Wait, how do you know about Morgan? You've never met her.''

Charlie looked at him as if he was a five year old.

''Because, the only thing that everyone's talking about lately is her. Chace is his fan, Joe is about to tattoo her name on his forehead, Toby can't care less about you two and Will thinks that she's a life ruiner. Florence probably agrees with him.''

Sebastian knew all of that already. And, surprisingly, he didn't care about what his friends thought of Morgan.

''Who cares. She's just my co-star. Like any other co-star I had before.''

He didn't believe that himself and he knew that Charlie was not going to believe him.

''Wrong. You didn't fall in love with Margot Robbie or Nicole Kidman. Well, maybe with Chris Evans but... who wouldn't, man. That guy's a dreamboat.''

''I'm not in love with Morgan''

''And that is... wrong. Again.'' Sebastian blushed but didn't say anything. ''By the way, Toby texted me asking where we were. He says he has important news..''

''Wasn't he in Brooklyn auditioning to some mysterious project?''

''Ask him yourself...'' before he could say anything else, Toby was crossing the coffee shop, looking happy and full of life.

He was glowing for some reason Sebastian didn't know. And he was more surprised when he grabbed the Vogue magazine, that was still on the table, and kissed Morgan's picture.

''What the hell does this mean?'' Sebastian took the magazine from Toby's hands and looked at him with an angry frown.

''That your girl got me a role in a TV show''.

''What?'' Sebastian and Charlie asked at the same time.

They were both intrigued as to how Morgan had helped Toby and since when she cared about his acting career.

''Let me start... yesterday Morgan liked one of my pictures in Instagram because she follows me.'' he looked too cocky about that fact for someone that two days earlier wasn't very enthusiastic about her. ''So, today I showed up to the audition, I said my name and the Casting Director immediately asked me if I knew Morgan because she was liking my stuff on Insta. I said yes and they gave me the role, without having to do anything.''

That story didn't make any sense. The only thing Sebastian could recollect was that Toby had got the role only because she had met Morgan once.

''So you got the role only because you have met Morgan once and she follows you on Instagram?'' Sebastian questioned him and Toby just smiled, not ashamed at all. ''Nice display of your talent there. You could totally suck but they didn't care as long as you keep Morgan's follow.''

''Hey, I don't suck! And I'm also not a superstar like you are. I don't have Damien Chazelle offering me roles while I'm in the bathroom at the airport! If I can get roles thanks to Morgan, I'm going to do it.''

''Okay, that makes you a fame leech.''

Nor Charlie or Toby knew why Sebastian looked so mad.

''Stop, okay?'' Toby looked at him with a hard expression. ''No one is taking advantage of your girl. You can tell her what I did, if you want. She probably won't mind.''

''She's not my girl'' he groaned. ''And of course I'm going to tell her.''

Toby rolled her eyes and decided to change the topic.

''Have any of you heard about Joe lately?''

''Isn't he in London?'' asked Sebastian, who had been way too focused on himself and Morgan to care about his friend's whereabouts.

''Yes. Now he's hanging out with Rami Malek, who'll probably win an Oscar before you, Seb'' Charlie teased him. ''I think he changed us for Malek and some guys named Ben and Gwil or whatever is pronounced.''

''He'll be back when the buzz over his movie dies. And Malek may win an Oscar but at least I wasn't in Twilight like he was.''

''You're a pain in the ass today, Sebastian.'' Toby threw a napkin at Sebastian's face. ''I get that you're a bit cranky because your great friend Chris is probably having a very good time with Morgan right now. Or at least he had it last night, I'm sure of it.''

Charlie almost chocked with the muffin he was eating and Sebastian got so red that it looked as if he was going to catch fire at any moment.

''And I'm sure that what you just said didn't happen''.

Los Angeles.

Lucas and Morgan were eating some pizza in a simple Pizza Hut somewhere in L.A alone. This was not a conversation that they wanted to have in front of Taylor.

''Now, tell me because I swear I'm dying of the intrigue... did you slept with him or not?''

It wasn't hard to Lucas to draw that conclusion. Morgan had came back to the hotel at ten in the morning making a stupid excuse of staying at Chris's watching Titanic. Taylor believed her but Lucas didn't.

''Of course I did.'' she didn't even blush with that revelation. ''He was offering himself and I just said yes.''

''Just that? Are you two dating or something?''

''Of course not. He knows that... we're not for each other. He deserves better. At least someone who's not in love with Sebastian Stan. It was just a fun night, nothing else.''

Lucas was surprised that Morgan was speaking with such lightness. She had slept with bloody Captain America and she was acting like it was not a big deal at all.

''I'm tempted not to throw my diet coke at your face, Morgan. How can you? He's literally the perfect man, a hopeless romantic, a beauty, a generous, good man... and you're going to give him up for... what? Sebastian Stan? Who's not even single? Whose mind is literally a mess? Oh, please God, no. Tell me you're not doing this.''

''It seems like...I am.. Chris deserves better. I'm the worst thing that can happen to him at this point and he knows it. He really likes me as a friend but as a girlfriend he'd get tired of me in two months and I can't blame him. Sometimes I'm tired of myself too, believe me.''

Morgan looked sad for a couple of seconds but regained her composure.

''So, do you think that it will be different with Sebastian?''

''Who knows... but I'm beautiful trash and he's beautiful trash so... we kind of match. But now you have to help me investigate something that Chris told me about Florence.''

Lucas winced. That couldn't be good news.

''What are you planning to do now?''

''I'm going to tell the truth to the world.''

Lucas didn't know what Morgan really wanted but he was sure it was nothing good.

Graphic description of this episode:

Tag list: @iamsebastianstab @bloodyvalentine93 @void-imaginations@dmn-dmn @euphoricbuckys @bluewavesx @lamamery @morrocanlovey @korysdiops @galaxydragonxx @ridingthedevil@exotericbarnes @heartsbeatingfortheworld @stuckinthemiddlewithyou@carmsfiorenzanoc @superheroesaremytea @torntaltos @massati@lesbiiionest @naffeesaa @ming3015 @earthtodevon@imdiegohargreeves @heidi4499 @bluediamondsevie@randomandfandoms1967 @goldvirago @paz22 @peterpxrkerlove@derekxsammy @leonardo-capulet @bellaire312006 @awinterloveuniverse @silverreading @mkirby93 @becksly9 @emilie1993 @dmn-dmn @kmaydayy

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in-aether-case · 2 years ago

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How I’d react to tropes:

In most body-snatcher movies, there’s a trope where the group have to prove they are who they say they are e.g. The World’s End comparing scars. This is normally done by asking questions only they know the answer to. In the case of The World’s End, I have a scar over my eyebrow. In any other case I’d be fucked; memory of a goldfish.

Only one bed would be very boring with me; I’d either take the floor or just go straight to sleep.

Enemies to Lovers - I’m too fucking petty to actually get to the lovers part. This would just be a lot of gentle roasting.

Fridging - it is technically a trope but the only requirement for it is death so I’d mourn, it’d motivate me to do jack shit.

Evil Empires - So, you’re telling me I live in a country responsible for thousands’ suffering and I’m an inconsequential cog in a large machine? Anyway back to the trope, hey if I have a living wage and an internet connection I don’t need much else.

I'm going through a list, "Power of Friendship" came up and I laughed so audibly that my mother asked me what was so funny. I'm a shit friend, is what I'm trying to tell you.

Mind control - I've always been adamant that I'd just forgive someone for the shit they did while mind controlled if it was like they had no agency but realistically I'm far too petty.

Losing powers - as stated with fridging, I am a difficult person to motivate, even if I could get them back I'd just use it as an excuse to bail on whatever quest my powers thrust me on in the first place.

Time travel - I have a lot of people to shag/kill/befriend also it'd make research a lot easier if I could just go and ask people what the fuck is going on.

Apocalypse - While my initial reaction was to play "The Final Countown", I think I'd find the optimum location to be killed by the apocalypse because there's no way I'm helping rebuild society if anyone survives and start belting out "I'm so excited" by The Pointer Sisters if it's an instant death like I'm standing in the path of an asteroid, if everyone's slowly being killed (e.g. zombie apocalypse) I'd start singing "Always look on the bright side of life"

Tournaments - knocked out first round

Plot twist - surprised pikachu meme, followed by "called it."

Evil minions - Evil corporation, if the hero doesn't kill me outright which they could, I'd fight to keep a cushy job, plausible deniability and pension scheme, bb

Macguffins - there is a tangible solution to life's problems and all I have to do is go and get that thing? One quest and I'm free of all this bullshit? Imma go get myself a thing!

Immortality

If it's like no illness, no ageing immortality - invest everything, find the cure to every disease, cliche but fuck it I'd be curious. Set up a string of false identites in case people turn on me. Do dangerous shit to see how long is takes for fear to stop effecting me. Honestly, if I keep my current memory I'd probably forget I was immortal twice a day

If it was closer to longevity rather than immortality, fucking hell the mid life crisis would take ages, so would puberty. I would have so many creative projects and finish none of them. I'd be the Leonardo DaVinci of procrastinating and the Arnold Rimmer of art, just complete failure

Magnificent bastards - If I am a magnificent bastard find ways to not be punched. If I am saddled with a magnificent bastard, punch them.

Fates worse than death - suicide

Sins of the father - I've got some things to take up with that bastard too tbh

Queer coded villains - it me

Pure of heart - fail on the spot

Love triangles - Duck out, everyone loses when I'm in a relationship. Hey, shout out to my girlfriend btw!

Cursed artifacts - How cursed? normally there's an upside otherwise you wouldn't bother with the damn thing.

Magical other-worlds - tells my landlord to shove his £250 a month

Are we the baddies? - "I told you so."

Space horror - suicide

Deus Ex Machina - existential crisis followed by pure, unadulterated nihilism

Lamp-shading - I’m fucking stupid, I’d be oblivious

I've had this one in the drafts a while, it'll probably be ongoing.

#tropes #trope talk

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thoughtdumpshitposts · 3 years ago

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Emotional Breakdowns Lead To Passably Poetic Ramblings

26.06.21

word count: 2.15K

I never write because I need everything I write to be evocative. I need it to be painful. What's the point of writing something if the reader doesn't hurt? It hurt me to write this, and I hope it hurts you to read.

I've always imagined putting my thoughts into words, but I don't know if I want them to be on paper or my phone. Digital is easy, it's good, it's clean. It's easy to edit, to navigate, to save; it'll probably live on forever. It won't erode and disappear like the writing journal I had for six years, eaten away by the same termites who ate my entire closet from the inside. His name was Reggie, and he deserved better. I'd kept him safe in the closet, but I learnt too late that nothing was safe in the closet. Nothing physical, existing is ever safe from the World and it's beasts – Man or insect.

But paper is personal, it's real. It's beautiful. Sure, sometimes my brain and heart think of words faster than my hands can keep up, and the words are barely legible and my hand-writing's not pretty anyway, but that's the beauty of it. That's what makes it mine. But someone I know can stumble upon these words and read the truth of my existence. But maybe I want them to stumble upon it, one day. Maybe I want them to find my words and understand, really understand, who I was and what I am and what I kept locked up inside of me. That I wasn't some selfish, ill-mannered brat. That I really loved them, but sometimes it was hard. My mother always tells me no one can ever trust anyone but family, that even if she screams and shouts and scolds at first, at the end of the day she'll always have my back, and I know that's the truth.

But my cousin molested my other cousins and I, and she cried when she found out after years because she had to hear it from the other side of the family, and she cried because she'd told me so many times that she'll always have my back if something like that happened to me and she keeps saying family and family and family, and trust and trust and trust and how family is my parents and brothers and that's all we can ever trust but how do I tell her that the reason I said nothing when my cousin did it was because I was used to staying silent when my brother did? It's all so funny because I was blessed enough to have been born to parents who would never blame me for being abused in a society in which the blame- and shame-game is prevalent, but what do you do when the victim is your daughter and the abuser is your son – your firstborn, the first "nawasa" in the family, your pride and joy, the prince charming. You've loved him for seven more years than you've loved me. I understand. You don't deserve to suffer the truth. I saw how you were when you found out the truth about the cousin, I remember the things you said about family and trust. I know you have your own issues. You don't deserve to suffer. You don't. I love you all. So much. So so much. I won't let you suffer. I won't let you be the collateral to his sins. I'll protect you, and you'll never know.

And I'm okay, so why would I say anything? When we're happy and whole and great? Why would I say anything when I'm actually, genuinely fine and unaffected? Why would I ruin us? How could I say anything? And I'm fine, I really am. I'm okay. And I know my friends think I'm gaslighting myself when I say that I'm fine and it hasn't effected me much and it wasn't that bad because I was never actually physically hurt, but it's true. I'm used to laughing and loving the people I hate. I'm used to hating the people I love without an ounce of real hatred. I know what it sounds like, but it really isn't that way. It's okay. I'm okay, and no one should worry, even if sometimes I want everyone to worry. Even if sometimes I want everyone's pity and attention and love and sympathy, and I want them to hurt for me, like I hurt for the people I love. Sometimes I just want validation, I want people to know everything so they understand me. But everyone wants to be understood, so that's nothing special. I'm okay, and that is the only thing what matters.

I wasn't raped; I was molested. There's a difference.

I wasn't raped, and honestly I only remember a few instances with clarity. Everything else is a blur – it's all just snippets and flashes of memory spun together to make a vague, dramatic montage. But I wasn't ever physically hurt, and of course I know that it was still terrible and horrible and I didn't deserve it, but understand that it wasn't as bad as it sounds. I'm fine and genuinely, actually okay and I'm only affected when I have a mental breakdown, but that's almost always because I'm pms-ing. And it hasn't happened in a while now. It stopped. I think it's been four years? And it happened for five? six? I was 9 or 10 when it started? And he was 16 or 17? Okay, that – Oh, God oh fuck that sounds bad doesn't it? I'm 18. My younger brother is 10. I couldn't imagine– I can't. God.

But it actually wasn't as bad as it sounds. I was asleep – of course I wasn't asleep (but I think sometimes I must've been? I don't know) – but I was "asleep" when he did what he did. And he did do a lot, to be honest. His hands, everywhere on me. His mouth – everywhere. His–

Why is it so hard to write? I think it's harder to write than it is to think and speak of it.

But I don't know what happened to me. I don't know. I don't remember what happened. I wish I'd kept a better record, but I didn't. Oh, I remember a lot of things that happened, but I don't remember it all. I wish I did but I really don't. I wish I could read and revisit and do a shitty psychoanalysis of him. But I can't, and now he's the only one who knows what really happened, and I'll have to live with it.

There were no words. Never any words, never any pain. So again, I'm fine, and I'm okay. And he's great and fun and funny and I love him and I care about him and I'm always joking with him and he's a terrible person and I hate him and I wish I knew how his brain works and what he was thinking and still thinks and I'll never forgive him, but it's okay. It's really okay. As long as I was the only one who suffered. As long as I'm the only one who continues to suffer for my silence.

I think the only reason I still think about it so much is because I never got closure. I never got an explanation. I never understood why. I don't know if he's an irredeemable monster or if he at least feels guilty. I don't know what he was thinking, because there were never any words. And I'm glad there weren't any words and I was "asleep" because it makes it easier to interact with him and pretend it never happened, that it was someone else and everything's still okay.

But there were never any words, so I don't have anything to work with. Nothing to draw conclusions from, nothing to psychoanalyze him with. I don't know what he was thinking, I don't know what happened. I want closure, I want to understand. But I'm scared of whatever will lead up to the conversation, and the conversation itself. I'm scared of the acknowledgment and how it'll change everything irrevocably. I'm scared of getting closure, but I need it too. I need to understand.

Did you feel bad? Did you think of how it'll hurt me? Did it hurt you? Or were you indifferent to it all? Did you just not care or –fuck–was it some big joke? Was it funny? Was it amusing? Do you feel entitled to me? How fucking dare you? How could you? How fucking could you? You loved me. You were great to me, you still are sometimes. You're my big brother, man. I loved you. I love you. You were supposed to be my hero and I fucking swear to God you were. What the fuck happened to you? What made you this way? How could you do that to me? How could you do that and still look at me in the fucking eye? How? Why? I deserve to know.

But please don't tell me. I don't know what I'll do if I find out the extent of your monstrosity. I don't want you to fall even lower. I like to think you can't, but I know that's not true. Especially after what I learnt about Z- There's always room to fall.

But anyway – Reggie. I'd been brave enough to write a chapter of my life for the first time in that journal. It was the last story Reggie got to know. I'd never been brave enough to actually write about how I'd been hurt. I could never even write his name when I tried to make a record of what I went through – I was always smart (or sentimental?) enough to try and and keep a record, some proof, dated and organized. I was smart enough – but not brave. Maybe because my coping mechanism was pretending he was two different people, or maybe because writing it would make it real; I'd lived long enough without acknowledging it (even more so without understanding it), maybe if I ignored it long enough it would just go away. But the story I wrote in it wasn't even about that exactly. It was an older story; It was about how all of it might've been my fault. About how maybe I was always a fucked up child. But the story also brings me comfort – it reminds me that I've always been me, that the person I am today is because of the person I always was. That there was no influence that made me this way. I am what I was.

The termites consuming Reggie also reminded me of the old Islamic story about how the Boycott of Banu Hashim ended – the parchment holding the banishment declaration by the Meccans had been eaten by termites, except for the word Allah – the name of God. I thought it'd be interesting if this was God's way of sending me some message I have yet to decipher.

But I don't believe in God. Maybe life would've been easier if I did; if I could have found peace in He who I could not see, could not touch. If I could've found the same relief that my friends and family find in His words, His presence.

But I never felt His presence. I tried, I really did (maybe I didn't, maybe I should've tried harder?). During my last try, I made the resolution to offer all my prayers one Ramadan. I thought if I manage to nail down all the worship obligations, actual faith might follow somehow.

I lasted two days. I cried on the prayer mat during Fajr both times, like my mother does all the time, but I doubt it was for the same reasons as her, or lead to the same result. I did not feel at peace, and I did not feel seen and heard by the Creator; I had never felt more alone, more abandoned. My heart did not feel a little less heavy; it had never felt heavier.

I cried because I was desperate the cycle wouldn't repeat. I wanted to believe there was someone who could make it stop, someone who could make sure that others didn't follow in his footsteps. It did stop, eventually. But I think that's just how it was supposed to be – not because some deity cared enough to make it stop. He doesn't care about us, but if you don't agree with that, I envy you. I wish I believed what you believe.

But I'm also glad I don't. So I will just exist, till one day I don't. And you won't remember me, and He won't care, and no one will greet me at the Gates of Heaven or throw me in the depths of Hell, because neither exist.

I hope.

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punkscowardschampions · 6 years ago

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Ronnie & Joe

Ronnie: Been to busy too answer your phone, yeah? Ronnie: Not dead in a ditch, worse luck Ronnie: enjoying your model perks Joe: Ugh, sorry, that took much longer than she said it would Joe: trust, no blow in sight, not that professional a shoot, sadly Ronnie: No fun to rush an orgy like Joe: Lmao, again, if only Joe: you do know its Sophie and the trust fund massive, yeah? Ronnie: all the posh cunts turn you down, poor baby Ronnie: back to slumming Joe: I'm not interested, like Joe: Not saying there's a reason poor Dais needs to be shot from the back or nothing Ronnie: Go in from the back yourself then, why not Ronnie: there's no reason Joe: You're alright tah Joe: Give her your number if she's got you so affected here Ronnie: fuck it Ronnie: posh girls try hard Ronnie: worse ways to spend a night Joe: Can't say I ain't a little gutted myself Ronnie: she's hotter for you no need to try Ronnie: or for you to cry bout it Ronnie: not like im any stranger to a 3way Joe: No doubt Joe: also none that the wildest she's ever got is a mild freshers week and gap yaaah Ronnie: didn't realise you were fucking besties Ronnie: if you want me to bow out for the bonding give Soph a shout for my slot Joe: I told you it took forever Joe: Creepy as I look, couldn't actually loom over her shoulder silently for the best part of 3 hours Ronnie: much better to go for the eye fuck and one-liners Joe: If only I had your expertise Joe: have to show me how sometime Ronnie: you know where I am Ronnie: same place I've been all day Joe: come over? Joe: your gf ain't here but neither is Soph so Ronnie: gutted for you Ronnie: a posh accent ain't my thing Ronnie: have to hit up someone else for your roleplay Joe: No kidding Joe: No disguising that hacking thing you do Ronnie: Take it up with your ma Ronnie: Didn't drop me on the doorstep of no palace, baby Joe: Thank God, they lock up their undesirable kids for life in the loony bin, you know Ronnie: course you know that mckenna you fucking headcase Ronnie: get the warning did ya, golden boy? Joe: 'Course, can't use the care home as an empty threat without eye twitching like, could she Ronnie: not much of a threat unless you're a pussy Ronnie: even Charlie hacked it Joe: Didn't know you had so much faith in me Joe: N'awh, babe Ronnie: fuck off Ronnie: with how much they love a gay bash you'd be dead Ronnie: you and your artsy mates Joe: That's more like it Ronnie: calm down you fucking lezza Joe: How does that even work as an insult Ronnie: You're a pussy and you have one Ronnie: how many braincells did you wreck on your pretty little photo shoot like Joe: S'cool with me Joe: that's what you're about these days, appaz Ronnie: fuck you Ronnie: I've sucked plenty of dealers dicks doesn't mean I'm in love with them or their stash Ronnie: such a romantic soul, mckenna Joe: that'll be the pretentious art prick in me Joe: take that as you will Ronnie: put it where you want like, just wash it off before it comes anywhere near me Ronnie: i don't know where posh girls go Ronnie: or where they let lads put their pricks Joe: Sure, wash it 6 times, then once more to be sure Joe: That headcase life, remember? Ronnie: not on enough gear at the minute to be forgetting Joe: So, you want some? Ronnie: not got any cash have I, you pity fuck Ronnie: don't ask stupid questions Joe: Someone's gotta Joe: Since you ain't Joe: I'll drop it off, consider it on the house Ronnie: and go the fuck where? Ronnie: loads of better offers suddenly, yeah? Joe: Naturally, the posh orgy, remember? Joe: Would hate for you to inconvenience yourself on my account Ronnie: you're a cunt Ronnie: and you'd love it Ronnie: you inconvenience me on fucking purpose Joe: yeah? Joe: i assure you, nothing cuts me deeper Joe: that what you wanna hear? Ronnie: fuck off Ronnie: I called and called you, you useless twat Ronnie: wasn't hearing that was you Joe: no phones on set, like Joe: I'm coming now Joe: What more you want? I can't get a postmate to pick that shit up for you Ronnie: Get to fuck Ronnie: you're coming over cause that girl has more sense than to let you get your dick wet Ronnie: it ain't no love for me bringing you to the door, baby Joe: Which is it, either gagging for it or gagging fullstop Joe: Either way, I told you, I don't give a fuck Joe: Believe what you like but I also told you I ain't letting you near me so where's the logic in that? Ronnie: where's the logic in you playing student all day you junkie waster Ronnie: i ain't trying to tell you what to do about that like so don't talk down to me like im a fucking invalid that needs her shit delivered on tap Ronnie: postmate your fucking head if you keep on Joe: Gotta pay for it somehow, ain't I Joe: Ain't even what I said Joe: you asked, now you're pissy that I'm delivering Ronnie: I didn't fucking ask Ronnie: you offered to be a fucking savior as per Joe: Just calling and calling for a chat, was we? Joe: Don't chat bollocks, Ron Ronnie: I wanted to see you, you fucking doss cunt Joe: Yeah? Joe: Funny way of showing it, babe Ronnie: Fuck you Ronnie: If you want easy go text your other bitches Joe: I ain't asking for easy but not looking for so uninterested you make me out to be a rapist, like Ronnie: what are you on about Joe: I get that that's what you do, and it ain't judgment on yous but can't say the idea of you only fucking me for drugs does it for me Joe: s'what I'm saying, take the drugs, you don't have to if you aren't about it Ronnie: Jesus fucking Christ Ronnie: Go cry to your perfect flatmates about it like Ronnie: Not seeing you try and wine and dine me you hypocritical cunt Joe: Fucking hell Joe: I know that ain't what you're after either but Ronnie: But what? You can't hack not getting everything you want Ronnie: That's life, mckenna Joe: What, I've got such lofty fucking ideals? Please Joe: I've got what I need Joe: How 'bout you? Ronnie: Try sticking your dick in someone you ain't related to and say that again Ronnie: what the fuck do you think I need from you? go on Joe: That ain't what I want, even if you reckon I need it, and Jesus and the rest, yeah? Joe: I got no fucking clue, baby Joe: You tell me Ronnie: had a clue a minute ago when you called me out as a junkie hooker like Ronnie: what's the matter, not so sure now? Joe: Need your ears check if you heard that Joe: Never mind your head Ronnie: it ain't nothing I ain't heard before Ronnie: not bout to shed any tears over it Ronnie: that's your gig Joe: Yeah, you love it Joe: We get it Ronnie: can't all hate ourselves as a full time job, baby Ronnie: burn yourself a little more so we can proper get the picture of how bad you're suffering Joe: Ha ha Joe: Funny Ronnie: makes me laugh Ronnie: which is all I'm looking for Ronnie: out for number 1 Joe: I'm very happy for you, babe Ronnie: tears of joy, are they? Ronnie: fuck off you ain't capable Joe: I know you'd love it if I was about to kms but trust, I'm doing as good as I always am Joe: You don't have an effect either way, soz to say Ronnie: liar Joe: You reckon? Joe: Even if you didn't come with junk to numb me out, nah babe Ronnie: you don't get to go cold turkey from me Ronnie: even if you fucking wish you could Joe: says who Ronnie: you Ronnie: you're about more than you're not Joe: yeah Joe: why all this drama then? Ronnie: what do you expect? Ronnie: I hate you Joe: 'Course Joe: Whatever does it for you, babe Joe: at least I only need me for that Ronnie: like you give a shit what gets me off, like you've ever Ronnie: I don't need you for anything Joe: Bullshit all the rest but I know that's a lie Joe: then I'll keep the gear and stay away Joe: No big Ronnie: I get to fuck you over by fucking you, what's easier Ronnie: Bullshit you could Ronnie: you can't stay away, you're too much of a sick fuck Joe: You know how to make easy seem like hard fucking work, babe Joe: and you can? Ronnie: I can, I don't wanna Joe: At least we have that in common, yeah? Ronnie: You want something in common with me? Don't be fucking stupid like Joe: Want? Like its optional now Ronnie: You tell me, changing personalities to fuck with the art bitches Joe: Nah Joe: was an IOU for getting the rent in late Joe: like I really wanted to be there, fuck that Ronnie: got somewhere better, have you? Golden boy too good for the posh cunts now Joe: I told you where I wanna be but you kept arguing instead listening Ronnie: Cause you're a lying piece of shit Ronnie: Tell me the truth, it'd only kill ya, like Joe: You don't believe me either way Joe: So much for loving yourself when you won't hear how much I want you Ronnie: Don't say shit you don't mean Joe: See Joe: Even if I got on my knees and crawled to yours Joe: not having it, are you Ronnie: You ain't about to do that so what the fuck does it matter Joe: wanna bet Ronnie: don't be a pussy Ronnie: you ain't no comedian either Joe: What do you want then Ronnie: come over, fuck's sake Joe: now was that so hard Ronnie: Shut the fuck up Ronnie: just do it

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