#although i did make a dumb joke to my friend that i am proud enough of to say here too. | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

peeterparkr · 3 years ago

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red; tom's version|one.

chapter one: sad, beautiful tragic. “Long handwritten note deep in your pocket”

pairing: Tom Holland x Reader (tom's not famous here) story summary: you’re reminiscing through your relationship months after the heartbreak and breakup. Wondering if it went wrong from the very start when Tom arrived at New York, and him being a cautionary tale or if the problems came along the way. Perhaps the key to find back your way to him is going back through the nice things before the heartbreak came. Or is it too painful to go all over again?

chapter summary: you haven't seen him since he ditched you, after months of wearing plaid you go out and realize he's back in new york warnings: angsty, I mean it's a breakup, swearing. word count: 7.3k playlist (updated after each chapter, including Red songs+ other for the chapter): Spotify | Apple Music

fic masterlist next chapter

a/n: Hi, I couldn't wait to share it so I said, screw it, I'm posting this. You don't know how excited I am to write this and share it with you. As you know, this is inspired by Red by Taylor Swift and will hurt. So I expect us all to be crumpled up pieces of paper wearing scarves by the end of this. (perennial is still coming, I'm just waiting on a few people who're reading it). SPECIAL THANKS TO @erodasghosts for reading it and hyping me up and helping me figure this all out. I hope you guys all like it as much as I did. The story is set in New York. Please give feedback!

One month after the breakup.

Strong whiskey, on the rocks. That was his drink of choice that night. The night before had been a beer. You knew you could imagine the taste of his lips by only looking at him. You wondered if he’d gone there for a second night for the same reason you had.

When you had seen him across the place the night before, you had tried to decide how to feel. We always think we will react one way or another when we see our official heartbreak walking through. Victorious as he is perfectly dressed, with his hair flowing.

He hadn’t brought her. Which you didn’t know how to feel about.

The day before you had not been alone, Jules, Matty, and Lula were there.

“Shit, the axolotl at 10 o'clock, you’ve got to be shitting me,” Lourdes, Lula, had whispered before sipping her drink, a Long Island Tea. “We are celebrating she’s doing better, can’t fucking believe this,” she hissed at Jules who only lifted her chin slightly to see who she was referring to. “What the fuck is he doing here? Ay, es que, con qué huevos se atreve a venir aquí? Que no mame.” [with what balls did he dare to come here? He shouldn’t fuck with us. ]

You loved hanging out with Lula and listening to her very refined Spanish cursing.

“It’s not him,” Julia said.

You tried looking back to see who they were referring to. “Who is—?”

“Y/N, wait I just noticed the haircut!” Matt pointed out, reaching over, getting your attention back to them and not at whatever they were referring to. “It looks great. It’s like a new you!”

This new you. The one that had been screwed over twice. Men really have the nerve when it comes to breaking hearts. They recklessly go in and let you believe love comes in all shades of colors, passionate red like the roses they send, and tender pinks like your sweet innocence that they end up stealing. But they never tell you it’ll be you all alone in a dark room with shades of grey under a flickering light that barely warms you.

The new you, which was still a bit lost. Your old self was a stranger to you now. You had no idea who this new you was, she was quiet now. Didn’t have a heart because someone had stolen it and broken it and left it behind a dumpster. Still trying to find it. The new you wasn't.. you.

Your friends were glad, however, they finally got you to go out again. After weeks of wearing plaid and watching Fleabag, and even considering watching Greys Anatomy, a low point, you had finally decided to come back to see if there was any sunshine left for you.

It’s important to point out that you had been broken-hearted and almost crazy when the breakup had happened. Very… delusional. You were not proud of the way you’d reacted. Although you wouldn’t have reacted any other way.

The city had been quiet, the red lights seemed to last longer, and the crowds would often swallow you. The city you once loved was now an open book of a relationship that seemed real, should’ve known it was all fiction.

In your dreams they’d be bright, colorful. The village is aglow. Cold days with warm hearts. Like his.

You’d been cold ever since.

“Ah, yeah, the haircut. Got it today. Lula’s idea” The haircut had come as the solution to a problem that would never be solved. As if cutting your hair meant there was something you had the power on. You didn’t.

How stupid was it? You couldn’t control your life.

“It suits her well, doesn’t it?” Lula admitted proudly.

You still had his picture engraved in your heart. You still dreamed he would come back and say it was all a nightmare.

“It’s nice, I’m glad to have you back,” Jules commented. Julia had probably been the most surprised with the news of the breakup, she had almost gone and killed Tom when he had….unimportant. She hadn’t, though, and she had yet to tell you the reason why. Julia had been mysterious since.

“I’m glad to be back,” you confirmed. You’d ordered a beer, and maybe you shouldn’t have. Stella Artois, his one favorite. You pocketed the beer cap. “Though I was not gone.”

Matt watched you, him and Julia had recently started dating. Best friends since kids who just recently confessed their feelings for each other, took them long enough. “How back are you, though?”

“Meaning?” You asked, taking a sip.

Matt shrugged, “I could introduce you to some friends from work, there’s this hot guy—“

“No,” you interrupted him, leaving the bottle down as you had almost choked. “No, no. Not in the dating area yet. Won’t be in a long time. Still healing.”

Lula still had her eyes glued elsewhere. “Healing from a bullet hole, y/n, whatever you’re doing isn’t working, and band aids won’t fix it—Jules it is, I swear to god it’s him.”

“It’s not him,” Julia rolled her eyes.

“Ay, que sí!” [he is]

“Who?” You asked.

Julia took your hands, “you know Lula,” she rolled her eyes. “I love that you ordered a beer.”

“Yeah,” you gulped. “Beer is universal language for men as in: ‘don’t get close to me.’” A lesson someone dear had taught you once.

Matt tilted his head in agreement, “Yeah.”

“Really?” Lula frowned, “should’ve ordered one. Next time I’ll ask for my drink but instead of a glass I’ll ask them to put it in a beer bottle.”

“Wouldn't it be easier to order a beer?” Matt suggested.

“But then I’d break our tradition.”

Matt watched her, “you really are something.”

You chuckled.

“Why is beer seen as not—feminine?” Matt questioned.

Julia shrugged. “It’s beyond me, really. It’s a drink.”

“Like does my drink make me less of a man?” Matt watched his glass, another Long Island Tea. A stupid inside joke you all had.

“No,” you admitted. “But you know how society is. Since it’s sweet, it’s got to be—“

“Oh, no, no, I love you, y/n, but tonight I don’t want you lecturing us on it, no, tonight we are having fun, ok?” Lula reminded you. “We will not talk about femininity or lack of a beer—or whatever your agenda is up to these days, which, hey! Why does y/n get to break the rule?” Lula questioned. “No Long Island Tea?

Julia glared at her, “Because she can do whatever she wants tonight,” she hissed and then turned to you. “But how are you feeling? It’s your first time going out in months, is it as fun?” Julia was the one to try to cheer you up the most.

No, it wasn’t fun.

“I—feel good!” You lied. Although you were not. But you guessed that’s the response they wanted after seeing you laying down on the ground and crying yourself to sleep. Staring at windows and walking down in the rain. They wanted you to feel better.

Your body was covered in scars.Though, they were from adventures.

“Bullshit,” Lula intruded. “You seem sad. Maybe I’ll get some shots,” she announced before going to get some.

“Well,” you chuckled. “My first time going out and you bring me back to the place where it all started?” You answered cynically but then shrugged. “I’m—I…no. I just—It’s weird. I still see him everywhere, and as I’m here it’s like watching a movie of our greatest moments,” you admitted. “Like hey, look over there, it’s Tom and Y/N’s greatest moments,” you stated, Lula got back. “Let’s start memory lane…”and you sighed and continued with the best presenter voice you had. “Here you’ll wonder how the hell did it go so wrong since they were so perfect, what the hell went wrong, when did it turn into some sad stupid love affair. You’ll be asking yourself hey, they seemed in love, over there, they danced! Over there… they sang a song together! See over there? There was a fucking jukebox in which they have memories! Oh they have memories there too! And you’ll ask yourself, he made it seem real, what the hell happened?” You sighed exhaustedly. “What happened? What the fuck happened? How was I so stupid?” You ran your hands through your face.

Your friends only watched you, with pity, sadness. Even Lula had turned her gaze guilty.

You cleared your throat, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

“No,” Lula sighed, “it’s our fault for bringing you here. We’re fucking idiots. Besides he is—Julia I swear to god, he is there.” Lula raised her hand and Julia quickly pulled it down.

Julia bit her lip, “I—hadn’t realized how much Tom there is here.”

“Yeah.”

“He called me—“Matt had started.

“No, no, we can’t talk about him, baby,” Julia reminded him. Matt widened his eyes and nodded.

You blinked, “no, it’s—He called you? Tom?” Why had Tom called Matty? What for?

“Yeah, had a missed call,” Matt explained, ignoring his girlfriend. “I—it was this morning.”

You felt your chest twist. “Yeah, I get a lot of those too.”

Perhaps he wanted to talk to you and thought Matty was dumb enough to give you the phone.

Julia glared at Matt. “We promised not to—“

“No, hey,” you stopped her. “I—sorry, I brought him up.”

“But we shouldn’t talk about him,” Julia insisted. “Tonight is all about having fun,” she stated as she handed everyone their shots.

“No, it’s alright,” you said. “I’m fine talking about it.”

Lula turned her gaze to you. “Shouldn’t you hate him?”

Were you supposed to hate someone who gave you something so beautiful? Just because it’s over doesn’t mean you have to look back and hate it.

“No,” you answered simply.

Matt watched you. “Wait, really?”

You took a deep breath. “Yeah, I’m—I decided I’m thankful for everything. He really… I… I mean I knew from the start he was trouble. But he got me to get rid of Will. So I’m thankful for Tom. He showed me some beautiful things about him, about myself and… I’m thankful. Even the part when he broke my heart.”

It was a lie. Partly. You had been so full of doubts that you only tried wondering why it had gone so wrong. Or course, the lie was there. His lies. But how could any of it be a lie?

Julia smiled gently, “You’re really a grown up.”

“Or very stupid.” Lula commented.

“Thanks, Lula, I appreciate it,” you rolled your eyes. “I… well, I’ve gotta admit I was pretty stupid.”

Lula shrugged, “Hey, I don’t blame you, boy came in with an accent, he had a cute smile, he was hot, I must admit, and he wasn’t one of those Brooklyn fuckboys that take you to the rooftop and offer you a whiteclaw to watch the sunrise together,” Lula gave in.

“Oh, and they take candid pictures, and they say that their phone camera isn’t as good as their polaroid,” Julia laughed, “But hey, you’re lucky they took you to the rooftop, they never take anyone there, they took you there just because you’re…”

“Different,” Julia, Lula and you chanted.

Matt laughed, “You guys are the worst.”

“Anyway,” Lula said. “We should drink these,” she pointed at the shot glasses as she raised her own. “I came here to get drunk. So, to Y/N being thankful Tom was a piece of shit even when the boy had a dreamy accent?”

You closed your eyes, and let out a defeated dry chuckle. “Yes, to that.”

“To the piece of shit, then!” Lula grinned as the shots clinked and were downed. You instantly regretted drinking it.

Lula scowled as she had her eyes glued back at the bar, “It’s him, Julia, it’s him! What is he doing here? Pendejo, I swear to god I’ll go kill him.” She was furious, and you tried once again following her gaze.

The bar was crowded, red lights crossed around the place, with girls walking with tall heels, trying to smile and nod at guys who were talking to them but clearly were not of interest to them. Friends laughing, people flirting. You didn’t know who your friends were watching.

But the bar seemed to be enough of a reminder of him. How he had made you feel like crowds were never there, and how whenever you had been with him everything disappeared just to be with him.

“Who are we killing?” You questioned.

“Is new y/n a murderer?” Asked Matt. Matt and Julia were your oldest friends. The three of you grew up in Staten Island, and now moved to the crowded places.

Lula coughed. “Hope she is.” Lula, on the other hand, you’ve met in college, she was a very defined addition to the friend group. With more personality. A strong one. Lula, Julia and you shared a small apartment.

Julia cleared her throat.

“The fucking scarf,” Lula scowled.

“What scarf?” Matt asked. And you had the same question.

Julia whispered to her boyfriend’s ear who had turned cold. He lifted his head.

“But it’s not.”

“It is him,” Matt confirmed to Lula. “Jules, it is.”

And now your three friends were acting strange. Usually they did but this was strang-er. They all shared looks, Julia struggled with her hands.

They were watching you with pity but you’d gotten used to that. After the breakup they had been extra careful around you, kinder, you guessed.

Fools they were to believe that by not mentioning him you wouldn’t think of him. He was a memory that would haunt you for the rest of the days.

“So, y/n,” Julia was clearly hiding whatever Lula was seeing.

“Wasn’t he in London? What in this fucking world is he doing here?” Lula continued.

“Shut up!” Julia ordered.

“London?” You asked and you lifted your head, and any noise that was bustling before had stopped.

Tom.

Tom was there.

Thomas.

Tom who had broken your heart. In every possible way that he could’ve. Like he had planned it. Like he was aware.

He was there, on a stool with a beer in his hand and wearing a red scarf. The red scarf. As if he was mocking you.

Tom.

Did he pride on hurting you?

He had always said you were invincible. That you were unrivaled in matters of the heart. Was he proud he had beaten the unbeaten?

You’d always thought he would.

When we love deeply, getting hurt comes as a given. But when we love deeply, we are never expecting it to come. And when it does come the skies cannot turn grayer. Funny thing, you were a fan of the rain but when the rain doesn’t cease, the hope doesn’t perdure.

But he was back in your life. Or at least he had been in the same room as you after months.

What was he doing back in New York with your scarf?

You turned back to your own table, breathing in quickly, bringing your hand to your chest in an attempt to calm yourself down.

You saw your friends speaking but you couldn’t make a word of what they’re saying. Your heart was rushing. Thomas was there. Tom. Your Tom. And there was a part of you that had completely forgotten over the heartbreak and wanted to run to him.

Kiss him, try to fix it. Try to bring back the beautiful thing you both had. Because it was. And it hurt looking back.

You were having trouble breathing now, the heartbreak had come.

That’s the worst thing about heartbreak. You never saw it coming, though you should’ve. Though it was beautiful you’d known from the start you’d end up hurt. But when a lie is crafted so beautifully, how could you?

“It’s him.” The words had come in whispers.

You barely remembered what had happened next. You had only stood up, decisive to leave, you’d seen him try to walk his way to you. You’d heard him call your name, but you hadn’t turned back, you had seen Matty stop him from running to you.

It was blurry. You didn’t know how you got home. Desperately trying to understand why he was there and how the night had turned too badly.

Lula and Matt had come back later to find Julia trying to comfort you, hugging a pillow that you were sure he had slept on. Breathless.

But it was in the past now, you were there again. Same bar, both in stools far away.

You were almost sure he’d gone to that bar in hopes of finding you again.

Just like you’d gone again.

His eyes the night before were guilty. You only took a deep breath, you remembered trying to avoid his glance at any chance as you had walked out.

Why were you there again?

That feeling in your chest growing, like there was something heavy expanding. Yet your stomach falling smaller. The pain was but a shield, as if it was creating a special protection around your heart, and though it hurt it was enough for it to make your heart strong to leave the place.

You didn’t want to see Tom. You hadn’t talked to him since. Even when he’d tried to call. Even when you’d tried calling.

Not when you had replayed the breakup over and over and over again since he was gone.

Everyone deals with breakups in different ways. Yours, specifically, was avoiding it. Everything and everyone. Especially Tom.

It was hard when he was everywhere. In that tattoo he’d convinced you to get, in that ring he’d left, in that cereal box that you still hadn’t finished. Whenever you listened to a song he’d recommended. Whenever you’d open Netflix and that series you had started watching together was still recommended to you even when you’d deleted it.

Everywhere.

You couldn’t use your favorite colors because you could hear it, in the back of your head “I love how it looks on you.” “You should wear more blue, it suits you.”

Even your stupid laugh remind you of him. “Your laugh is the most wonderful thing I’ve heard, even if it’s so ugly.”

You missed the person you were when he was with you. How everything was happy. Who was that y/n? Who didn’t mind if she was slightly late to a place because he’d come with you? Who didn’t feel alone at parties when she knew nobody because you knew him?

A y/n that existed only for a short period of time when he’d been around and that he’d shattered like glass when he had the chance.

You missed that y/n.

The y/n that would sometimes lose her breath and catch it back when he walked into the room. A y/n that sang along to her favorite songs all day. The one that would give her heart in a rush to him. The one that watched movies no matter if they were good or not.

Life had colors back then.

Now you were full of regrets and of doubts. Wondering what you had done wrong? Where did it lead you?

You looked up at him then. He was staring down at his glass.

There was a slight trace of him still there, the Tom you once loved. The one with the silly smile and the gentle chuckle, the one with the jokes about everything.

You wondered how much of that y/n he saw too.

You were the same two people, in essence. But how different you were now.

The Tom you knew before finding out it was a lie.

There was still a hint. You knew. But there was so much of him in you that it was hard to see if you still were there. Or the Tom you thought you knew. Not the one with the lie. Or maybe this was the truest Tom he could ever be.

He had to move on, rather quickly, you recalled. If he ever did.

There was a stupid reminder of you in his hand, that red scarf from the very first day.

You still remembered how it all started, a stupid red scarf. He kept it, then, and he wore it.

You had ordered a beer, too. You pocketed the cap again.

But there was an image in your mind, maybe he had gone back and probably had his arm around her and he laughed at a joke she made. Maybe she was funnier than you. Definitely prettier, with her hair falling down all the way to her waist, her clothing accentuating everything you didn’t have.

You recalled having to leave the room when you found out. You had been a mess.

Leaning against a wall as you caught your breath before the tears came down, as if he had pierced right through it. A pain chest that had expanded all the way on your body, not sure how you were able to keep walking back to your place. Falling down to your knees when you did.

Pain. Words failed to describe such a deep sentiment.

But it was gone now. Not entirely but at least you could hold your breath fine when he was just across the room.

What went wrong?

You could ask him. He was right there.

Maybe even tell him how you had lost sight. He hadn’t walked up to you. He was nervous, but he seemed calm enough to see you were there. You were still unsure why you had gone there.

Maybe all the good things were enough to bring you there, maybe the fact that you still didn’t believe it was a lie brought you there. Maybe the fact that one of those pictures from that photobooth was still in a locket. So stupid.

He fiddled with the glass.

You waited and waited but he didn’t approach you. He took out a paper out of his pocket as he stared at it.

You wouldn’t approach him. No matter how happy he had made you once, you wouldn’t walk to him. No matter how beautiful it was. No matter if you were lonely and that when you dared to sleep he’d be haunting your dreams.

It was a tragedy now. What you both were, and not even worth enough to try and save it. You knew you were haunting him too. Otherwise he wouldn’t be here.

He was shakin, as he stared at you, nervous. He downed his drink, you guessed it was for some liquid courage and stood up, with the note in one hand and your red scarf in the other.

Your own courage for coming here was gone, as you saw his intentions, the urge to run you had the night before was becoming you. But he couldn’t walk. He had to sit down again, rubbing his face.

The courage that had come when choosing what Lula called the ‘revenge black dress’ was nowhere in sight. You were cold and regretting putting it on.

“I can’t do this,” you said to yourself and quickly let out some dollars to pay for your drink before picking up your stuff to leave.

You saw he panicked when he saw you leaving, he quickly called the bartender to pay for his drink.

You closed your coat as you were shaking yourself, punishing yourself for going there. Why had you gone there? The man had broken your heart? Were you really there to see him?

Was your heart foolish enough to ignore the warnings in your mind once again?

You walked your way to get to the subway station, how irrelevant you were through the crowds. You hadn’t felt this way for a while, caring for the crowds. But you had to get through them. There was a part of you that wished Tom was following you after. But the crowds didn’t let you see if he was.

Besides, you shouldn’t want that.

You finally managed to get to the station, you clung to your purse as you stared at the tracks, waiting for the next train to come. Peaceful it seemed, the station. As peaceful as New York could be. You guessed if you cried nobody would care.

“y/n!” You heard your name in the distance and you couldn’t handle it.

You took a deep breath and shook your head, angrily. Why had you gone? You could’ve easily kept ignoring his calls. You could’ve stayed in your apartment, crying as you watched SNL videos on youtube, or rewatching a cartoon for the hundredth time, letting your own sadness and self pity swallow you.

But you had gone to him. This was your fault. You should’ve taken a cab, instead, he would know you’d get at this station and he for sure would know what train you’d take.

“y/n, y/n!” He kept calling as he finally arrived next to you. “Sorry I would’ve gotten here faster but the damn MetroCard-”

“I’m not doing this, Tom,” you stated before he could go on rambling like the idiot he was. You couldn’t do it. “Not here, not anywhere. I don’t know what you’re doing here.”

“I…” His face was kind, and he seemed to be nervous. You could tell he hadn’t been sleeping, probably the jet lag.

You took a moment to look at him, he didn’t look as victorious as you had thought he was. His hair was messy, and his cheeks flushed, the buttons on his shirt were not buttoned right.

Seeing him again, with that signature look he had made you want to go down to your knees.

“Aren’t you supposed to be back in London?” You snapped. “With that pretty girl-”

“No, no, I’m-I’m sorry, I’m really sorry,” Tom stuttered. “I was an idiot.”

You stared into his eyes, you were not ready for this. You were not ready to look into his stupid eyes. You looked away. “That’s all you have to say?” You tried walking away from him..

He shook his head. “No, no, no, no, I… No, I actually… I had this… I wrote down my apology,” Tom confessed. He showed you a sad, handwritten paper, now slightly teared up with the ink running. “I… I had….”

You looked down at it, his messy handwriting, crinkled with words scratched down. “You wrote it down?”

You didn’t know why you felt your heart warm. This kind of stuff was why you couldn’t understand what had happened. Someone like him, who writes his apologies down. Someone who stutters when he’s speaking.

“Yeah, I… but I spilled my drink on it after seeing you fled,” He explained, swallowing hard. “I… I… I had written it down so I wouldn’t forget it but now I realize how stupid that is… I’m… I’m really sorry, y/n.” .

You could hear the train coming. You were seeing him again. It hit you right there. And this was not the reaction you thought. You had said you would be delusional, crying and fighting and questioning him why the fuck he had done that.

Yet you weren’t. You were only watching him, eyes full of tears wanting to slide down but unable to. But there was that pain still in your chest.

How could he ever dare to hurt you that way? “I don’t want to talk to you,” you said. And meant it. “Please leave me alone.” You said before walking into the train.

“Y/N, please, no, please, please, listen to me,” He followed you in, the scarf still in his hand.

You tried sitting as far away as you could. Arms and legs crossed as you tried breathing in.

He sat beside you and you changed seats. He sighed but followed you again. “Please, I need to talk to you. I never meant to hurt you.”

“Well you did,” you snapped. “You did, and now you come here a month later with a handwritten note apology thinking I will be fine with it?”

He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I had to solve-Please, would you listen?” Tom asked, knowing damn well he had to ask, and not just straight up blurt it out.

“Why would I, Tom?” You turned to him, with a tear traveling down your cheek. You were incredulous. “You’re kidding me, right? I… You… You think that just because you show up with that stupid face of yours and my scarf I’ll want to listen to you? You’re an idiot.”

He sighed and reached to give you the scarf. You ignored it.You were furious now.

The other people on the train were certainly getting a show. A guy with a backpack was trying to pretend he wasn’t listening but his reactions were giving it away. Another woman pretended to keep reading her book but she hadn’t turned any pages.

Tom took the scarf back staring at it. “I need to explain everything to you.”

“What if I don’t want an explanation?” You snapped. Though you did. You had been waiting for one, you wanted one. You would beg for it. But your pride was taking the wheel of the conversation. “Don’t you think it’s fucking late for it?”

“Is it?” Tom turned back to you.

“Yes!” You couldn’t believe him. But this seemed a bit too familiar of a conversation. “And beside no explanation would make me forgive you!” You stated, whispering, not wanting any of the attention you were receiving.

“I’m not… I… If you just listen to me,” Tom said.

You glared, “I don’t want anything to do with you.”

“Then why did you come to the bar?” He asked.

He fucking asked.

Your eyes widened. He had gone there. He knew. He fucking knew you’d gone back because you wanted an explanation. Or so he thought. No, you’d gone back because… Yes, because you wanted an explanation. Because everything he’d done had been beautiful. Until the heartbreak. He had crafted and vexed his way into your cold stupid heart and then he had gone and pierced right through it, crushed it.

You wanted to ask why. Why did he do it so vehemently?

You didn’t answer, instead you moved one seat away. He kept his eyes on you.

“You wouldn’t have gone if you didn’t want an explanation,” he said. “Or to see me, at least. I know I did, I needed to see you.”

You saw the guy with the backpack purse his lips, knowing that Tom had got you. There was little context for them. The girl with the book directed a glance to you, trying to read your emotions.

If they knew, they’d be on your side and yelling at him as well.

He rested his elbows on his knees and rubbed his face.

“I didn’t, it was a coincidence,” you answered coldly.

“No, it bloody wasn’t,” Tom scoffed and then sat up. “No, I’m… No, but you know, you went to the bar for a reason.”

“And I left for a million more,” you frowned.

Tom pursed his lips and took out the paper again, trying to make out whatever he’d written before. “I’m really sorry.” His eyes traced through the note.

“Are you genuinely trying to read it? Don’t you know what you’re supposed to apologize for?”

Tom looked up, “So you do want me to apologize?”

The guy with the backpack squeezed his eyes shut, knowing Tom had fucked up.

“You’re kidding, right? Yes, you have to apologize, what you did is really, really shitty!” You pointed out.

“But you won’t forgive me, then?” Tom watched you.

“I don’t know,” you said and he looked up, a beaming gaze. “No, I won’t.”

He wrinkled his eyes, “I… I know I’m supposed to apologize, not to expect you to forgive. I'm just…”

He gulped, and then sat back, staring at the dirty walls and lights. He had dressed up. Badly, but he had tried looking good, you could tell. You could smell his lotion, too.

He was fiddling with the paper, crumpling up and then it fell to the floor. You looked at it and somehow related to it, not sure how.

You took a deep breath so you wouldn’t kill him and turned to him. “I have questions for you, if you answer them I might consider listening to you.”

Tom’s eyes brightened up. “Yes, yes, anything.”

You eyed him up and down as he watched you with begging eyes. You avoided his gaze. Tom followed your gaze as you tried to figure out what was the first thing you could ask him. Why had he hurt you?

Why did he not stop and think before making you fall in love with him?

Why did he not stop and tell you the truth?

“Where are you staying?” You asked,

Tom blinked. “Is that… is that the question?”

“No, but I know you don’t know how to fucking get anywhere,” you said.

Tom gulped, “I… uh, again with Harrison,” he explained.

You sighed. You remembered Harrison alright. And though there was a petty part inside you, you would help him out. Knowing he’d always get lost in the city. Though you could let him get lost, so you’d have to go after him and spend a bit more time. With an excuse, because you didn’t seem to have any excuse to be with him.

It hurt. What hurt the most was trying not to look back at the incredible moments you had because none of them were true.

You sighed. “Okay, when we get down you’ll take the F train—“

Tom stopped you, taking your hand. “No, wait, I don’t care if I get lost, okay, I… I just.”

You snatched your hand away from his cold hands he had. You darkened your gaze at him.

“Please, Y/n, I just need a chance. If you don’t want to listen… maybe I’ll just…” He handed you the note.

You crossed your arms, and tapped your foot, trying to decide whether or not to give it to him. “Fine,” you took the note.

You've gotten to your stop. So you stood up.

The girl with the book and the guy with the backpack watched you both as you walked out, pitying they couldn’t follow the drama.

Tom followed after you, he licked his lips. “You… you had questions, right?”

“Yeah.” You nodded, taking yet another heavy breath. You turned on your feet to look at him “One, did you lie to me?”

Tom was taken back by this, his eyes, consternated, only watched you. He gulped. “What?”

“Did you lie to me?

“I… well.”

You were getting desperate. “Did you ?”

“I didn’t lie about how I felt,” he said. You knew he wasn’t lying about it. He couldn’t. He couldn’t have ever lied about how he felt because you knew he had felt it too, a bit, at least,

You rolled your eyes, “Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, whatever.”

“I mean it, I…” Tom gulped. “I really liked you.”

“Yeah, I know, you liked me yadda, yadda,” you started. Liked not loved. “Cut the bullshit for once, did you or did you not lie to me?”

Tom took a deep breath. “Yes. But I had feelings for you.”

You bit your inner cheeks. “Uh-huh, yes, okay, good, yes, you acknowledge it. So, we have two statements here, Tom. You say you had feelings yet you lied to me,” you squinted. “Sounds-”

Tom gulped and avoided your gaze. “I know yes,” he looked down. “But, if you give me-”

“Ah, buh-buh, nope, I’m just gathering my thoughts here,” you coughed. “I need you to look me in the eyes and tell me what you felt.”

Tom shook his head in confusion. “I—I’m”

“Go on,” you motioned your hand.

“Y/N,” he said. And the way he dared to say your name was like having a knife right through you. “I had—I have feelings for you,” he said looking right into your eyes.

He didn’t say what feelings.

You were not sure where you wanted to go with this. “Fine, my next question…” you really didn’t know where this was going. “So, alright, you…” You couldn’t even phrase it. “You… made me fall in love with you knowing….Well, we both know what you did. What you hid from me. You’re a liar who made me—“

Tom took a deep breath. “Yes, but I didn’t… plan that.”

Your eyes widened. “Oh, so it’s my fault?” You stepped back. “Sorry for developing feelings for you. Sorry for ruining your life—“

Tom closed his eyes, “No, no, look, I… wasn’t. I didn’t come here expecting to meet you, I didn’t want… It just happened, okay, I never thought—You're making it sound like it’s some big master plan. I—I never planned—I never would’ve ever planned on hurting you.”

You watched him, incredulous. “Thomas you do realize what you did to me?”

“I do.”

“No, you don’t! You’re trying to make me seem like I’m crazy for not even wanting to talk to you!” You called him out.

“I’m not, I’m just saying that if you’re here—you must miss it too, you know it was too real, and you want it back, possibly—M-maybe not, but if you came to the bar tonight it was in hopes of finding me again because you knew I’d be there, and you want to feel how you felt before, and i just… you know I miss it and that you knew I didn’t lie—“

You glared at him. “You did lie!”

“Okay—yes, yes I did—But not entirely, I just happened to omit one truth—“

“One very important truth,” you snarked.

“Fine but—please listen,” he tried to convince you. “and I’m sorry, okay? I—I didn’t want to hurt you. But I never planned this. It just happened. I didn’t come here expecting to fall in love with anyone, I didn’t come here trying to date, and I never expected it to be someone as complex—“

“Complex?”

“Yes, I never came to New York trying to find the most mental relationship I’ve ever had—“

“Mental?” You snapped.

“Yes! I love you but you’re fucking crazy! And I am too! I’m fucking crazy and mental but I—I—I loved being crazy and mental with you! We are fucking mental! Driving to nowhere? Breaking into places? Getting a jukebox on the subway? That’s mental! But—but I love that about you, alright? Don’t you get it? I could’ve stayed in London, I could've been the asshole who just ditched you and lied to you—“

You scoffed. “Well that’s comforting!”

“But I’m—I’m here, ain’t I? And I know I fucked up, I know, I accept that, I’m the asshole here, and I know you’ll never—I hid it from you because I didn’t know what was going on, I didn’t even get it myself. I’m here to give you my version of it. I didn’t realize I was falling in love with you…I am…,I am in love with you, and I never planned that, I wasn’t supposed to fall in love with someone else, it just happened. I may have thought it was just—Some fling, initially.”

You laughed cynically. “A fling.”

He gulped. “And the moment I realized what was really going on—”

“You left, that’s what you fucking did, when you realized it was way too real for you, you destroyed the one real thing you’ve ever known,” you barked, he stepped back. “I fell in love with you, I—I—and then you ditched me, and I thought that was the worst thing you could ever do to me but then I realized that it wasn’t real! I—you were never mine, Tom! I simply was—a break you needed or—a fling.”

“It wasn’t that—“

You watched him. Looking so innocent, kind eyes and tender lips. You would’ve believed him had he come before.

“You used me!” You snapped, the words that had wanted to come for a while just blurted out. “I just can’t believe you,” you said. “You don’t feel sorry.” You shook your head, your voice was cracking. “You're not sorry because you don’t understand. You don’t know what I went through, and if you had come earlier, if you hadn’t left me, I probably would have believed you. But—No! No!” You stepped back. “No!”

“I did call! You never picked up the phone! I tried—“Tom started.

“Was I really expected to pick it up? Let’s get back to it. Shall we? The facts. Did you or did you not date me? And made me fall in love with you?”

Tom sighed. “I—yes.”

“Did you lie?”

“…yes.”

You nodded. “Was I the other one?”

Tom squinted his eyes. “No… yes, no.”

You took a deep breath. “Did you leave me without an explanation?”

Tom looked down. “I did.”

“Did you ditch me?”

Tom looked everywhere and nowhere. “Yes,” he answered, defeated.

“Now, do you think I can ever forgive you?”

Tom didn’t answer.

You reached for your purse, for the locket that dug deep inside. “I don’t know you,” you stated giving him the locket, the stupid locket you’d bought as a joke when making fun of other couples and now laughed in your face. “Whatever happened means nothing. Because that’s the thing Tom. Everything we lived was a lie, those two people in the locket are not us, because you weren’t who you said you were, no matter how much I loved it, it’s not true and though it was too many emotions all at once I’m—It’s not real, not for you. I spent this whole time thinking I wanted you to apologize but I don’t want it. That charming guy wasn’t truly you because you omitted one very important thing. You—What were you thinking? Were you planning to never say it? Or did you plan it like that? Just ditching me, hoping I wouldn’t find out—“

Tom took a deep breath. “No—No, I didn’t. I just—-I didn’t know what to do. I’m so sorry, I should’ve told you and I should’ve fixed it before—-“

“No, no you didn’t because it wasn’t enough for you.”

Tom gulped, “It was, it was—-the best thing I’ve ever had.”

“And you ruined it.”

“I’m sorry.”

“How little words mean when you’re a little too late, huh?” And that was the cue you needed to walk away. He silently watched you as you tried not to cry.

“I’m really sorry.” He said.

Was he?

“What if I try to prove it to you?” He asked as you were steps away from him.

You didn’t stop.

“If we go over this, you’ll see I never lied about it.” He continued.

“I already went over it, I remember everything, Tom, and maybe that’s why I don't want to talk to you.”

Tom walked behind, slowly. “I just happened to be very unlucky when it came to my own circumstances,” he reached over. “And I wish the timing had been better. But you’re right, it’s the one real thing I’ve ever had and I lost it because I hid something in fear of losing you. I lied because it was too good to be true. And I understand if you don’t want anything to do with me but I think you deserve to know why. But you went to the bar for a reason, and you had the locket for another.”

You stopped this time. Looking down at the floor and then at his hand, holding your stupid scarf. You shook your head, you really didn’t want to go through it all over again.

“I know you won’t forgive me,” he stated. “But I can’t let you go. You’re everywhere. And I miss the person I was when you were around, and I won’t stop fighting because you’re everywhere. Dreams, nightmares.”

Funny. You were his demons too.

“Am I haunting your nightmares?” You asked. Tom only watched you.

He took a deep breath. “I don’t expect you to forgive me, I just need—I really need you to listen to my version.”

“Fine then, let’s go down this sad, beautiful tragic love affair.”

next chapter

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normal-thoughts-official · 4 years ago

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Malec’s problems with communication are probably one of the better handled things the SH writers wrote. It’s nuanced and very in character, it’s speaks to Alec and Magnus’ different histories, personalities, and love languages. It’s never out of malice, it’s just something they genuinely struggle with. They’re the only couple on the show that received the time and care to develop and be shown working on it.

They’re also both badass in their own right and often the voices of reason while the rest of the characters are clowning and creating problems for our boys to solve. I enjoyed other characters and elements of world building but overall I kept coming back for Malec, their relationship and personal struggles.

Personally I really resonated with their communication issues since I had a similar problem with a close friend. I was like Alec- very straightforward and honestly not great at picking up subtleties, while she was similar to Magnus- had trauma and hated confrontation which meant she left hints and downplayed stuff. It’s totally understandable that both she and Magnus struggled to be open and honest. Except she had the nasty habit of blaming me when I didn’t get her hints and telling me it was my lack of empathy hurting her. Thankfully Magnus never did that to Alec. Your answer to that last ask (about post-coital Malec talking about Magnus’ eyes) made me feel better since I always felt guilty that I had failed her when really she had failed herself as it was on her to communicate properly- so thanks. 💜

I think if we had been given more time with our boys Magnus would have had some great growth in not keeping things to himself and I would have loved to see Magnus heal more. It’s what someone with his big heart deserves!

Ps sorry for the long ask & personal story!

no need to apologize! i love any (non hateful obviously lol) asks, but particularly long and personal asks. im not sure how coherent my answer is going to be because i'm still a bit anxious rn and there's a lot on my mind, but here we go

i agree with you. i also relate to alec a lot because my one mode when it comes to emotional communication is open, direct talking. and honestly it's something i am proud of. i am proud of the fact that it's easy for me to just sit someone down and say what i think i feel, because this solves so many problems and is the best way to do it imo. i don't hold it against people who have trauma and struggle to communicate, obviously, because i get that as well. it took me years of therapy to be able to understand that my problems are worth approaching and talking about, not just other ppl's (with other ppl i was always like alec lmao). so like, i get why people might have a hard time being direct about issues, but i'm still proud of myself for being the way i am because i do believe it's the "best" one

and i also suck at catching hints so like 🤷 i make fun of alec and joke about it because i RELATE to it, i think its funny and i see myself in him cuz if u throw a hint my way i am 99% likely to not even notice it hitting me on the face. so jdnfid when im teasing alec i'm not being like "what a dumb useless bitch", im being like lol relatable

and i agree, i think this was an issue that was actually approached and that was nice? and that i think the fandom sometimes latches too much on in the sense of being like OH WOW PROBLEMATIC or something but it's just... an issue they have, you know? and that makes sense and like, every relationship in its initial stages/months is gonna suffer from communication issues until the people involved get a hang of each other and how they work and communicate. it's normal. and it's something i liked and that drove me to malec personally? because while yeah, they had their problems with talking, they always tried (particularly alec) and they always understood each other and never held their differences against each other

i also agree that it's great that magnus never held it against alec (not that i ever thought he would, but it's usually a trope) because yeah we are taught that when in a relationship people should be able to "read" the other and tell what they feel and want, and that leads to a lot of problems imo. because neither part feels like it is their responsibility to communicate clearly and both are always trying to guess what the other wants. it's just an exhausting way to have a relationship and i see it leading to a lot of problems IRL, and a lot of ppl who genuinely believe that a partner who doesn't guess how you feel doesn't love you enough, which is bad not only for that relationship but for the person who doesn't communicate because they don't work on their issues and the trauma behind their communication issues

so i was glad that we never saw magnus act like that. i think magnus is very self aware and he KNOWS that he needs to work on that and he doesn't expect alec to just guess or get angry when he doesn't get it. and alec never held it against him that it's hard for magnus, either, which is also nice. so honestly i liked that that was a great part of their relationship? it's not perfect, but it's not supposed to be, and the fact that they respected each other and tried to listen to each other and make it work the best they could is more important to me than it would have been if they always immediately got what the other meant. i think it's an important message, you know? that relationships are something you build and that they will have problems that need to be worked on over time, cuz ur working with what uve got

so yeah it was a flaw about them that i appreciated, and i liked how the show didnt choose a part of the relationship to be The One At Fault like they so frequently do, they are just two different ppl with two different styles and backstories and baggages doing the best with what they've got. and that is so, so refreshing to see, because i'm tired of couples that are either perfect right off the bat, have problems that are never addressed as problems, or just have every issue be someone's fault when i genuinely believe that when it comes to interpersonal relationships no one is at fault or to blame 99% of the time, it is just that different people's traits might lead to clashing

so like in short i don't think magnus and alec or their relationship is perfect, but i think it's mature and i enjoyed seeing the way they tried to build it. and i relate a little bit to both of them, although in that particular issue i am almost 100% alec

does that make sense? udndi

#ask #anonymous #long post #sh #malec

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makeste · 4 years ago

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this is pretty random and you don't need to answer it, haha, but could you share your personal hcs regarding platonic todobaku with me??? 🥺🥺🥺 i'm in need, LOL, and your takes on characterization and relationships on bnha are always so spot on, so... i hope you're having a good day/night!!!!!!!💖💖💖

thank you so much! sorry it took a while to gather all of these; my TodoBaku headcanons weren’t as immediately forthcoming as my general Baku headcanons were. but here goes. the first half of these ended up being more just my general thoughts about their relationship than actual headcanons, but I eventually steered myself back on track.

first of all, this is important to note: when Katsuki says in ch. 241 that “there’s no correlation between time spent [together] and friendship”, it’s not purely out of denial. this is something he genuinely believes, having learned it the hard way growing up. for someone who seemingly led a pretty charmed life for most of his childhood, Katsuki hasn’t actually had a particularly sunshiny experience when it comes to his friendships. all of his closest childhood friends eventually left him (Tsubasa), turned on him (Deku -- from his perspective lol. obviously this wasn’t actually the case at all, but it’s how he interpreted it, and it definitely had a big impact on him emotionally), or abandoned him (that long-fingered kid, who notably fled and never looked back when the sludge monster tried to eat Katsuki back in chapter one. like, thanks for nothing, my dude).

so it’s not surprising that all of these experiences would have a profound impact on Katsuki’s ability to trust other people and accept them as real, genuine friends. in its own way his childhood was almost as isolating as Deku and Shouto’s. it’s only since coming to U.A. that he’s started to make real friends again for the first time since kindergarten. and even then, in the case of Kirishima and Kaminari and Sero, even though I think he does consider them friends, he still isn’t very open with them. because he’s learned the hard way that that can lead to hurt, and I think he’s very hesitant to ever let himself be vulnerable to that again.

but having said all that, Shouto is still absolutely correct when he says that they’re friends. and the thing is Katsuki knows it too, but he’s just reluctant to admit it. partly because the part of his brain that processes everything as rivalry isn’t sure whether Being Friends With Shouto = Losing To Shouto (IS THIS A TRAP??), and partly because of everything else I just explained above. even though by this point he knows Shouto pretty well, well enough to be reasonably sure he’s not just gonna be another fakeass groupie who turns tail at the first sign of trouble, there’s still a part of him that’s hesitant to admit that connection is there, because doing so opens him up to potentially being hurt again at some point. goddammit. why is this shit so complicated.

meanwhile on Shouto’s side of things, this poor lil bubba never had any friends growing up to begin with, so he’s not nearly as paranoid or prickly as Katsuki is. instead, he’s still discovering for himself just what friendship is all about. the interesting thing about Shouto is that since he never had any childhood friendships, in a way, the friendships that he’s making now at U.A. are his childhood friendships. and so they tend to be straightforward and uncomplicated in much the same way that very young children’s friendships are uncomplicated. “I like this person; I am going to make them my friend.” boom. done. friendship is mad easy yo.

and he does like Katsuki! sure, his personality is a bit unconventional, but there’s a lot to admire about him even so, and they actually have a lot in common! they’re both rather introverted. they’re both very serious, and I think this is something that Shouto particularly appreciates, because jokes and idioms and playful insincerity sometimes fly over his head just because he doesn’t have a lot of experience dealing with other people. but Katsuki NEVER jokes around, and he is never insincere. he says what he means, with the exception of insults, which are 90% more bark than bite. and so once Shouto figured that out, it became very easy to figure out how to interact with him. aside from that, they’re both close with Shouto’s Other Best Friend Midoriya, they both have incendiary quirks, and they both tend towards the quiet side (yes, even Katsuki) with the occasional burst of hotheadedness (maybe a bit more than “occasional” when it comes to Katsuki’s end).

and like I said, there’s a lot that Shouto admires about Katsuki as well. he really respects how determined Katsuki is, because he himself lacked any sort of clear goals for quite a while growing up. all he knew was that he didn’t want to end up being like his dad. but Katsuki is someone who has always known what he wants, and he goes after it with a singlemindedness that Shouto is almost envious of. he’s also very intelligent and quick-thinking, and Shouto knows he can rely on him in a tight spot. he’s also honest, and surprisingly principled, and while he’s definitely not the nicest guy around, I think Shouto can recognize to some degree those same types of walls that he once spent so much time building up around himself. and so he knows that to a certain extent, Katsuki’s hostility is just a front. and I think he’s both intrigued by that, and drawn to it. because every so often when Katsuki’s guard does drop and his better self briefly shines through, Shouto can see that he’s someone worth getting to know.

anyways, but enough of my rambling about their relationship, and on to the actual headcanons. first of all, I firmly believe in my heart of hearts that at some point during all of those mentally and physically taxing weekends spent training for their provisional exam, they have each fallen asleep on the other’s shoulder during the ride home. Katsuki was actually the first to do it, and it was only for a couple of minutes, but when he woke up he was absolutely mortified. but much to his relief, Shouto never said another word about it. (and if Shouto still remembers the warm, cozy feeling in his chest during those few brief minutes when Katsuki was dead to the world, with his face smoothed out and completely trusting and his breathing strangely in rhythm with the movement of the car, and if doing so brings him a sense of calm that’s hard to describe, well then, that’s no one’s business but his own.)

anyway, so because life is Just Like That, eventually of course the reverse happened. and with anyone else, Katsuki would have violently shoved them aside without a second thought, and he was almost gonna do the same here, but then he remembered he owed him (because he really did keep his mouth shut about the earlier incident, thank fuck), and so he didn’t. for almost two whole minutes, anyway. whatever. that’s more than generous, really. meanwhile no one else knows about this except for Aizawa, who was chaperoning them that day, and took mild notice at first on account of it being unusual behavior on Katsuki’s part, but then immediately forgot about it afterwards. he was proud of them both for upping their napping game, though. he respects naps.

both Shouto and Katsuki were actually scared shitless during the test of courage at the forest training camp, and if Katsuki hadn’t been kidnapped and everything had instead gone on as normal, they would have both had trouble getting to sleep that night. Katsuki actually can’t stand scary movies or ghost stories (fyi this is canon according to the third light novel, and EXCUSE HIM FOR HAVING A HEALTHY RESPECT FOR THE SUPERNATURAL. you wanna go and get your own dumb ass cursed or dragged to hell or whatever, BE HIS GUEST). whereas Shouto has next to no experience with them and doesn’t really see what’s so scary about ghosts because GHOSTS AREN’T REAL DUH, but even he feels a little unsettled when an undead swamp girl suddenly rises from the depths and crabwalks towards them in the middle of the woods.

Katsuki has on rare occasions been so drained by provisional lessons that he goes into autopilot and forgets to pretend not to be friends with Shouto, which can result in them having completely normal conversations for minutes at a time before he eventually regains enough of his senses to realize he’s fraternizing with the enemy. this is how Shouto learned about things like Katsuki’s favorite foods, and his love of hiking. the latter is actually one subject that Katsuki can go on and on about if you get him started, and Shouto very much enjoys hearing about it and never tries to stop him.

by contrast, Katsuki never intentionally seeks to gain any new knowledge about Shouto because he feels like he already knows way more than he ever wanted to. however, this doesn’t stop him from absorbing knowledge against his will by simple osmosis, and then discovering to his dismay that he’s retained the information afterward. this is why he also knows Shouto’s favorite food in return (although to be fair, I think everyone in Japan knows Shouto’s favorite food), as well as other tidbits like the fact that he likes strawberry-flavored things (because he always gets the same brand of strawberry milk from the vending machine during their lunch breaks). he hates himself a little for both noticing and remembering these stupid little details, and would rather be kidnapped again than ever admit to Shouto that he does.

Katsuki thinks of Shouto as “Todoroki” in his head rather than “IcyHot” or “Half n’ Half”, and has to make a conscious effort to use the nicknames whenever he addresses him out loud. more and more often he finds himself forgetting to do so nowadays, much to his dismay. Shouto was pleasantly surprised the first few times it happened, but quickly stopped taking notice of it, as he’s come to realize that the way Katsuki addresses people carries very little meaning regardless, since something like 75% of his actual feelings are conveyed through his actions rather than his words.

Katsuki does wish that Shouto had had the decency to choose his surname as his hero alias rather than his given name, though. he lives in fear that one of these days he’ll be required to call him “Shouto” while on duty. number one hero or not, there’s a good chance he would resign from his internship at the Endeavor Hero Agency before he ever willingly agreed to that.

and last but not least, the number one thing that Katsuki would rather jump in a freezing lake than admit to Shouto or even himself is that he actually cares about him too. and has even mostly forgiven him for wussing out at the last minute during the sports festival. he still doesn’t fully understand why he did it, but he gets that Shouto was Going Through Some Stuff, and okay yeah, he can admit that his family situation is pretty fucked up, so whatever. there’s an uncomfortable feeling he gets whenever he’s reminded of this; sort of a weird, squirmy feeling in the pit of his stomach whenever the subject of Endeavor comes up, or whenever he sees Shouto talking to the man himself. it makes him feel restless and on edge, and he never knows what to say or do afterwards, especially if Shouto goes all quiet and sullen and reflective. he wants to scream at him, or slap him on the back of the head, or grab him by the shoulders and shake him; whatever it takes to snap him out of it and ease the tension. but he knows that’s not the right way to handle it. and more to the point, he knows that he’s not the right person to handle it. and sometimes, if he’s not quick enough to squash the feeling when he senses it coming, he wonders how Shouto would react if he ever found out what Katsuki used to be like back in elementary and middle school. and he wonders whether Shouto would still be so dead-set insistent on calling them friends. and then he does squash out the thought, as viciously as he possibly can.

anyway so that turned weirdly angsty towards the end whoops. not even sure what happened there, since this is supposed to be my cute and funny ship, while BakuDeku greedily hogs all the angst for itself! lol my bad. but don’t worry, they still love each other, and Shouto is still fond and soft and equipped with bullshit-radar, and Katsuki is still rabid and in denial and a dumbass.

#bakugou katsuki #todoroki shouto #todobaku #bnha headcanons #bnha meta #bakugou meta #bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #makeste reads bnha #asks

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kinetic-elaboration · 4 years ago

Text

April 14: 2x15 The Trouble with Tribbles

Back to watching TOS on Wednesdays! We’ll see if I can keep this up because I do prefer it to Fridays.

Today’s episode: the Classic (tm) Trouble with Tribbles.

Starting out with a little test for Chekov lol. Just Chekov, his mentor, and his mentor-in-law.

My mom called Chekov “Kirk and Spock’s little project,” which I think is hilarious but also probably true. Only 22 years old and on the bridge crew? Private quiz by the top two people on the ship? Legit interpretation.

“It was just a little joke.” / “Extremely little, Ensign.” Classic Spock burn.

The Organian Peace Treaty--from Errand of Mercy??

I really do feel like Kirk is genuinely amused by Chekov.

You would never guess from this intro about tense diplomatic situations and number-one-top-priority-triple-red-alerts that this was going to be a crack-y episode about space bunnies.

Oh no, a fake red alert! Kirk is really angry now.

Kirk and Spock are very Married today.

STORAGE COMPARTMENTS?? StOrAgE cOmPaRtmEnTs?

WHEAT??

Do not try to imply that Spock doesn’t know things; he is contractually obligated to show off.

Canadian wheat.

Honestly, just let Kirk call it wheat.

Spock is using diplomacy to reign Kirk in. Sarek would be proud. And Spock would be insulted that Sarek is proud.

Kirk is very Sassy today.

Omg the waitresses have little wings.

Spock taking the wheat from behind his back and giving it to Kirk like a magician’s assistant.

I feel like Kirk is bitter about the wheat because it’s the one (1) thing he’s not a nerd about. And he’s from Iowa too!! He should know!

Uhura listening to the salesman; well she IS here to shop, after all.

Is it alive? Is it cute? Oh who am I kidding, I can see it’s cute!

Oh no the tribble is eating the grain.

Uhura is truly adorable.

I can’t believe she just made a joke about never getting any shore leave and here she is, back at her station again.

Can you even imagine AOS Kirk being tasked with protecting a bunch of grain? HE would make Iowa jokes.

And Spock is trying so hard not to laugh.

Tbh I have a real soft spot for these frustrated Kirk episodes. Poor, long-suffering Kirk. So much more serious than all of the nonsense going on around him.

I like this space station design.

Klingons on shore leave. They just want to have some fun. No bowling alleys on their ships!

Technical journal time for Scotty!

“I am immune to their effect....” Sure. What’s funny to me is that Kirk actually is immune to their effect. Truly at no point does he seem charmed or amused by or even interested in the tribbles, except in their capacity as Klingon detectors at the end

“I think they’re old enough [to be adopted].” Lol how can you tell?

One look from Spock reigns Kirk in. #spacehusbands

Oh, you noticed there are 11 tribbles instead of 1? How astute.

“What do you get when you feed a tribble too much?” / “A fat tribble.” This is ACTUAL DIALOGUE. Oh, Kirk.

Honestly McCoy is a medical doctor, so it kind of would make more sense for Spock to be doing these tribble experiments but he has his hands full with Kirk

Kirk is awfully insistent upon Scotty taking shore leave when he should very well remember what happened last time

“You’d think he’d be a vodka man.” And he is!

Klingons don’t understand Kirk at all. He IS a little soft <3

Where’s that post that’s like ‘the AOS writers just listened to this one Klingon speech about Kirk and wrote his character based on that?” I mean... not totally inaccurate.

Actually it is a potentially interesting speech. Is this really how his enemies see him based on his reputation? Or is it just, like, a bunch of generic insults you could apply to pretty much any captain of a group you didn’t like?

Poor Kirk, missing out on this fight scene.

Lol the drink joke. Does it make sense? No, but it’s funny all the same.

“Captain’s log: I am forced to cancel shore leave.”

Angry Daddy!Kirk and his unhelpful children. You’re ALL grounded!!

“No this is not off the record!” Not even gonna debate that Scotty.

This whole Kirk and Scotty scene deserves an Emmy.

Spones + Tribbles

The extra hilarious thing about Spock talking about the uselessness of the tribbles and Bones defending their cuteness as being an end in and of itself is that Spock DOES canonically like soft, pleasing animals. Even in this episode!!

The tribble wants to be captain.

Kirk collecting tribbles lmao.

“Don’t look at me, it’s the tribbles that are breeding.”

The tribbles are bisexual. Just like Captain Kirk. (Yes this is two different uses of the term that mean totally different things and I do NOT care I just like hearing the word “bisexual” in DeForest Kelley’s voice.)

I feel like Uhura must be so lonely.. Trying to talk to Spock about the moon. Meeting shape shifting aliens who become native Swahili speakers just for her. Trying to buy love in the form of small, cute animals.

The tribbles have been taken from their predator-filled environment. I am VERY curious about their native environment now. What eats tribbles?

“It’s you I take lightly.” Honestly this level of sass almost makes AOS Kirk seem IC.

“Licensed asteroid locator and prospector.” Brb changing careers.

“But he is after my grain!”

Kirk saying “au revoir” is funny on its face for how he echoes Cyrano what’s-his-face but also because it reminds me of Shatner saying “I’m from Canada, so I speak French.”

No, the tribbles got in his food! That is the last straw.

It’s hard to tell because it’s covered in tribbles, but Spock appears to have a very odd looking salad. (Or that large piece of fruit is a tribble, really hard to tell.)

Spock’s “fascinating” was so quiet.

“They’re into the machinery all right.” First, lol, and second, isn’t Scotty supposed to be in his room thinking about what he’s done?

You can really see that missing finger.

Gonna beam down some tribbles too.

And now to top off this bad day: the indignity of having a bunch of dead tribbles fall on his head. To wacky music.

“Gorged? On my grain?” It’s more likely than you think.

And like........you realize someone off set is just continuing to throw little puff balls at Shatner's head at regular intervals during this whole scene? One just bounced right off it.

And the answer to the tribble problem is literally “stop feeding them” which is so obvious that I assumed it was just harder than one would think not to feed a tribble. Since no one fed them. And they continued to eat.

I also love how Bones comes into his best friend literally buried in tribbles and doesn’t even blink.

Whereas Spock’s here with his mouth this thinnest possible line, trying not to laugh.

They like Vulcans! They have good taste.

Spock is definitely that type that has secret low self esteem so he builds himself up with confident comments at every opportunity.

“He’s a Klingon, Jim.”

Kirk REALLY likes threatening the Klingons with tribbles.

I feel like leaving Cyrano to single-handedly clean up the tribbles over 17 years is not a punishment that makes sense because like... must the station live with the tribbles until then? Also, where is he to put them?

I think they should be returned to their native habitat to be eaten by predators according to the natural cycle of life.

Are we to understand that SPOCK suggested beaming the tribbles on to the Klingon ship? Perhaps I have underestimated his prank war abilities.

I’ll be honest, this ep is very entertaining and for that reason one of my favorites, but I don’t know that it paints the Enterprise, and Kirk in particular, in the best light.

Like... I am really torn on Kirk’s treatment of the undersecretary. I know he often doesn’t much like administrators and diplomats and other people who don’t seem to have much RL experience, and certainly this Federation official got on his bad side immediately and understandably by misusing the red alert.

But... Kirk isn’t at all subtle about not liking him. I mean he literally says “I don’t like you” and that’s just objectively unprofessional, which he is not. The sassiness was way unsubtle, which could be funny, but it just didn’t seem IC.

I can almost justify it because of the red alert mix up--that’s everything Kirk hates: violating regulations, showing disrespect to him and his crew, uncalled for manipulation--and I think he has the right to be upset about it. But he continues holding this grudge for a long time. It feels like it’s just as much about not personally caring about the grain as about anything else. Like he’s dismissive about the grain because he personally has never heard of it. So obviously it’s not important.

That’s too much that conventional-wisdom arrogant, dumb Kirk for me.

I guess I just don’t understand, why so much hatred for the undersecretary? Because his two biggest sins were the red alert and employing a Klingon. But as I already said, I think Kirk’s ire is disproportionate to the first offense and no one knew about the Klingon until the end--because a tribble, not Kirk specifically, found him out.

Otherwise..this guy was right! The grain was important, losing it or having it sabotaged would have very bad consequences for the Federation, it is Kirk’s job to guard it, and he should do it well. He was also right that the Klingon threat was real!! He’d brought in the Klingon threat but he was still right about it existing. The Klingons did in fact sabotage the grain! And although we hear at the end that there was magically more grain out there... I don’t get how or from where.

Furthermore, he used the red alert specifically because he seemed to think Kirk wouldn’t rush over to protect the grain otherwise, and Kirk is so dismissive of this “just wheat” that he kinda proves the guy right!

Anyway, I can see the grains of this Kirk (lol pun not intended) in his general characterization, but it’s too over the top, to the point where it’s OOC. He does take his job, including the diplomatic aspects of it, very seriously, and I think an IC Kirk would protect the grain, and maybe be only occasionally, subtly sassy to the undersecretary.

But this was such a crack-y episode overall... it was like everyone was turned up to 11 and pushed slightly to the side.

It was a fun ep though with a lot of very classic scenes, and it’s another reminder that Spock likes soft, adorable animals.

I will admit that I actually do not think the tribbles are particularly cute. They kind of weird me out. They’re just lumps of fur.

Next is The Gamesters of Triskelion, which I vaguely remember as a decent but not great episode.

#the year 2021 #2021: star trek #star trek tos #2021: fandom thoughts

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aiden-png · 4 years ago

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to celebrate the end of 2020, I’ve decided to share the highlights of the writing I did this year! I’m going to share a few of my favorite snippets from 2020, and I think this could be a fun tag meme to invite friends to join in on so they can appreciate their progress and hard work too! I couldn’t have written so much if it wasn’t for the great online community supporting me and all my wonderfully talented friends!!

I’m gonna tag @freshie-writes @silverdragon-imagines-blog @st0rmy-writes @fuckit-hero-of-trains @no-themes-just-memes @timeturner-jay and anyone else who wants to join in, feel free! you don’t have to do this if you don’t want to, but you all wrote amazing things this year and I’m gonna appreciate you for them!!

snippets below the cut (please do this or make a new post if you wanna join, just so we don’t flood everyone’s dashboard lol!)

it’s difficult to count for certain, but across 7 google docs from April to December 2020, I wrote 324,782 words just of Legend of Zelda fanfic! it’s been a crazy fun year and I think my writing has improved a ton since I started writing fic again in April! thank you all for supporting me through the last 9 months!! <3

here’s a highlight of some of my favorite excerpts from fics I wrote this year! Smoke on the Wind and Dream With Me are two of my favorite pieces I wrote this year for angst, while Four Feet of Pure Flirtation and Lessons in Love are my favorites for crack/fluff :D the other snippets are featured bc I’m proud of how the fics turned out !

Dream With Me: June 28, 2020 Legend and Hyrule sat on the beach, a mere two feet separating them. It felt like much more. Farther than they’d ever been apart before. The other heroes stumbled onto the sand, frozen in shock as they took in the scene before them. Legend, knife drawn and hands shaking dangerously. Hyrule, knees buried in the sand and hands held over his chest, trying desperately not to reach out again. The sun was rising, pinks disappearing into vibrant gold and crushed purple and bright blue. As dawn broke, their vision wavered. Hyrule gasped, Legend blurring before him, the sand beneath him fading, the roar of the waves diminishing. Magic hour was ending. “This isn’t a dream,” Hyrule whispered, and Legend’s shoulders shook with silent sobs. “I’m real. I’m here. Legend, come with me.” Hyrule stretched out his arm, fingers splayed, eyes begging. Legend flinched back, dagger slipping from shaking fingers. He stared, disbelieving. Vertigo consumed Hyrule’s senses, his vision clouding with black dots. “Take my hand, Legend!” Hyrule cried, and Legend jumped. He sprung forward, hand grasping. Hyrule felt nothing as Legend’s hand passed through his. “Hyrule!” He blinked, and found himself in an unfamiliar field, reaching towards sunrise.

Smoke on the Wind: August 7, 2020 Wind hadn’t always had this ability, but before his second adventure, before the ghosts became tangible to his skin and visible to his eyes, he still had a sixth sense of sorts to rely on. Back then he’d called it instinct, but now he called it a curse. It never helped him do better on his adventure, never showed him the way, never allowed him to prevent someone’s demise--only forced him to bear witness to it in all its excruciatingly gory detail. Some spoke of death like a mercy, others like a boon. Wind knew death like an old friend and he despised it with all the rage contained in his tiny body. Some feared death, some prayed for its delay. Wind feared no man, god, or figment of imagination. There was no reason to fear something he couldn’t prevent, there was no reason to pray to something that would never hear or listen. Some ran from death, some hid. Wind stared death in the eye and spat in its face. He thrust a magical fucking sword through its head and banished it to a watery grave.

Four Feet of Pure Flirtation: June 26, 2020 Maybe he should have shared just a tad bit more with them, but that was a regret for future Four to deal with. And really, he hadn’t been expecting it himself, so they couldn’t exactly blame him when Dark Link materialized in their camp one morning and sent Four’s heart racing in an unfamiliar-familiar way. Four felt the heat crawl up his chest, felt his tongue loosen, felt his eyes trail over Dark’s lithe form just a bit too slow to be innocent. No one had told him Dark was attractive. Although, Vio reminded him, we are the only ones attracted to villains. We are most decidedly not! Four shot back. The denial was empty. They most decidedly were.

Hero Through the Ages: June 19, 2020 Wild sighed, chin resting on his knees. He glanced over at Sky, feeling anxiety buzz within him as a question pushed at the back of his mind. “Hey, Sky… does the sword still recognize me?” Sky froze at the unexpected question, eyes searching Wild’s carefully schooled expression. Wild felt his anxiety rise but he held his ground as the older hero tentatively reached back and unsheathed the Master Sword. He closed his eyes for a moment, and Wild tried hard not to notice the new eyes on them as he waited for Sky’s response. He knew what the answer should be, but when the other slowly opened his eyes and held the sword out for Wild, it was still conflicting to feel the familiar weight of it in his hands. Not too heavy. Not burning. Perfectly at home, as if he’d just begun his adventure and still had many years left before the Calamity struck. Wild felt a pit in his stomach as he handed the sword back, Sky’s concerned gaze not helping. “How old were you when you pulled the sword?” Sky asked quietly, and Wild stared at his hands as they trembled slightly in his lap. “Too young.”

A Shower to Remember: July 4, 2020 Enter Twilight and Wild. TWILIGHT I can see thee up th’re. Come hither. I simply wish to speak with thee.

Enter Legend to Shower Crashers. LEGEND all’s well that ends well, I believe our plan hath been a success. cheers to thee all. FOUR didst thou not see Wild running for his life not a minute past? LEGEND that is’t his problem, not mine.

Lessons in Love: July 9, 2020 The offer though, that’s what truly made Legend pause. Show you the ropes, he’d said. He should be insulted that Ravio thought he was that hopeless, but the man wasn’t wrong. Legend was absolutely, positively hopeless, evidenced by the situation he now found himself in. Should he say no and move on? Should he accept--and then what? Maybe he should laugh it off, say he was joking, or perhaps he should come clean now and tell Ravio how he felt? But he still didn’t know if Ravio felt the same, those dark eyes betraying nothing in the fading light of sunset. So, naturally, Legend continued to panic. “What do you mean by ‘show me the ropes’?” Legend asked, quick, defensive enough to pass as insulted. Ravio snorted, tasting the hot chocolate, and Legend’s eyes were drawn to his lips once more as if under a spell. “I mean no offense, Link,” Ravio laughed, seeming not to catch the blush on Legend’s face as Ravio used his name. “I just figured you might want some pointers. Flirting, hand holding, relationship advice, y’know? You don’t have to accept the offer by any means!” Flirting? Hand holding? Legend gulped. He was already an idiot. Maybe he could play dumb for a little while longer…

Scars: June 2, 2020 “I used to try and cover myself in public--I didn’t like the way people would whisper or stare when they saw. But eventually I came to accept the scars as part of me. I remembered how I got them, and I realized I wouldn’t be the person I am today without the journey that led to me getting these scars. And I like who I am…” Wild trailed off, sifting sand through his fingers as Warriors listened. “I’ve come to love my scars, because they hold such important memories for me. Even if some of the memories aren’t so great, I wouldn’t be who I am today without them, you know? And I wouldn’t trade that for anything.”

Beneath the Surface: July 13, 2020 For the first few months he had lied to himself, blaming the others or the weather or Shadow or Vaati or anything rather than admitting he had a problem. But Blue did, in fact, have a problem, and fighting and yelling it out wasn’t the healthiest solution. For the others it was easy. Green had Vio, for Wind could rarely move Earth, and Red got along with everyone he was so full of love to give. But Blue wasn’t good at teamwork, he wasn’t good at strategizing, and he wasn’t good at showing affection--he was good at being angry, and that was it. He was the protector, the toughest of them all in strength and will; but when you’re always protecting others, no one protects you. Not like Blue made it easy for the others to approach him, and he didn’t blame them for giving up. They were all struggling, they all had their own issues, and while Wind was a gentle breeze and Fire a warming comfort and Earth a steady rock--Water was impossible to hold down. He was forever changing, flowing, and while it meant that he could adapt well to new situations, it also meant that every time he felt close to getting a handle on his emotions they would slip from his grasp once more. His magic ebbed and swayed and his emotions followed their tide, not his, and so he pushed others away rather than admit he couldn’t handle himself. If protecting them meant distancing himself, then so be it.

The Point of No Return: June 19, 2020 He turned back to Four, brushing the back of his hand across his cheek. He’d wanted to share a meal with his partner. He’d wanted to see Four’s small smile--just for him--as he tried Hylian food for the first, second, hundredth time. Long ago, they’d promised to travel the world together. Four wanted to share everything with him; wanted to show him the forge, wanted him to meet his Grandfather, wanted to take him to see the Minish. After the adventure, Four had promised. He’d be free to go and do whatever he wanted, right by Four’s side. Well, he was at his side now. And this was not what they’d promised each other.

A Major Test of Strength: May 7, 2020 Even being worthy of the Triforce of Courage didn’t mean he was brave enough to act on, or even think, about how he felt about Sidon. He reasoned it was better not to say anything, especially now. He was going off to a battle he may not return from. Even if he burned to know if Sidon felt the same, it would be selfish to ask knowing he may be leaving for the last time. Link would rather go to the grave with his feelings then leave Sidon alone with them. At least if he died before confessing, Sidon would be able to move on, he hoped. Sidon was his best friend, and that was enough for now.

#aiden writes #tumblr went down right as I was trying to post this oof!#now I can finally send this and tag all my friends !#everyone is so talented and I hope you all know how much I love your work !!!#you deserve to hear how good it is and to feel proud of your accomplishments!#<3!!!

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ughgclden · 3 years ago

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bee, love, i am so happy you had a good first day, you deserve calm and loving days, and you deserve people, deserve friends. i’m so happy for you.

as for apologising, i’m a terrible hypocrite every time i tell you not to worry about it, as i also apologise for anything, most notably existing, but i want you to know you don’t have to apologise to me, i understand the impulse but there’s no obligation or anything.

i’m glad you’re feeling better, and that it was just a little ick, well not glad that you were ick but glad it wasn’t too bad.

when it comes to being in welton, i fantasise a lot about these things, i think something especially about boarding schools is appealing to me. being away. that’s why my plans are new york or wales or if my friend is to be believed, quebec. sometimes though, those realities all feel more and more like tissue paper soaked in water, just waiting for a reason to fall apart

i read really quickly, it’s probably an issue, i read red white and royal blue in about an hour and fifteen minutes. neil and i. kindred spirits. today at lunch i watched the last thirty minutes of dead poets society, going back to rewatch “i was good, i was really good.” like ten times.

imposter syndrome is slowly getting the better of me.

i actually dressed up as leia for the midnight premiere of the force awakens. i’m that person. if i’d been with you in the cinema i would have cried too, you’re not alone there, i cried watching it on the floor.

i don’t deserve the nice words you give me, but i’m happy i make you feel comfy and cosy, and ironically enough, writing with a quill or fountain pen never ends in pristine and unsmudged ink, you can thank my being left handed for that. i think there’s something nice about writing with fancy pens, maybe that makes me seem pretentious as well. oh well.

as for dps tattoos, if i can ever get any tattoos, i want the neil crown, “i was good, i was really good.” somewhere, probably my wrist who knows, and some art that alludes to the first unmanned flying desk set. among others. the “and still we sleep” thought, and the outline of meeks and pitts both sound so lovely. so so lovely. i really hope you can get every tattoo you wish. although your bank account may hate me for saying so /j i want more piercings, mainly on my ears, i have something of an earring addiction, my favourite pair at the moment is probably my howl drop earrings that look like howls from howls moving castle.

honestly the outfit/hair colour distraction rule is dumb. it’s dumb. i just don’t get it. abuse of power ig. and yeah. we were like hugging and sorta just leaning on each other while talking and the administrator got angry, for whatever reason. the straight couple making out behind us, she didn’t seem to mind, however. it’s dumb, and im glad i don’t go there anymore.

im clearly very articulate today (sarcasm) my mind is ehhhhhhhhhhh and feels like a squirrel laying on its stomach.

maybe i will call you ramona flowers, bee /j did you know the original name for pac man was puck man… /j hiding in the back of the music room to avoid a maths test sounds like something i would do. i say this, knowing full well that i’m such a neil kinnie that i end up feeling like a teachers pet because i want to do well, both for myself and simply to avoid trouble with my mum.

a new york times best seller, huh? well if i ever publish anything i’ll dedicate it to you, both for being the only person who thought i could be a storyteller, but also for being a lovely person in general.

sometimes one day after another feels impossible. tomorrow feels impossible. but oh well. i think younger me would be disappointed, to some degree. on the other hand, i think they’d think it’s cool how much i know. if nothing else, they’d love that i have a typewriter. also, i’m sure young you would be proud of you, i am. i’m so proud of you.

i mean bee, i could teach you to shoot a bow /hj YOU CAN WIELD A SWORD????? here i was thinking you could not possibly get cooler or hotter omg i’m in love /hj

thank you for being proud of me, really bee, thank you. and thank you for being the only one. i’m hardly changing the world, but i guess if i don’t burn out and lose this fight, changing a few points of views in the process of growing wouldn’t be terrible.

p.s. it’s certainly something, i feel bad because i always pull away from people when i get numb and it’s so new that me doing that could be detrimental to everything, but me forcing myself not to could have a bad effect on me. who knows what’ll happen. i’m just gonna try and keep them happy no matter what.

p. p. s. bee you brought this upon yourself /lh

all my love, bee, and that pun was the out of this world part of that sentence. you’re so cute omg.

that quote is beautiful, and since i, once again, had to translate french and smile about it, i’ll leave you with this

no importa que nos separe la distancia, siempre habrá un mismo cielo que nos una.

p.p.p.s. thank you for saying what you do, and i know that i don’t owe you anything, but writing to you is easy, and makes me happy, when i manage to get myself to sit down and think about it. i’m sending you back hugs, gentle forehead kisses and mugs of tea, a soft blanket and a narnia movie marathon, where we argue about how i am definitely not better than susan pevensie, but you almost certainly might be.

i’m so happy uni is going well thus far, love. and i hope you love your classes. learning.

thank you for everything bee.

yours, always,

star✨

star sweetheart, thank you so so much, honestly. i can't tell you how much that means - i know you said not to apologise, but an apology seems in order for the lateness of this message- im terrible i know /lh thank you sm though.

i'm writing this whilst listening to one of my favourite albums (hypersonic missiles by sam fender, if you were curious) and curled up in bed, so this really adds to the comforting vibes.

i'm with you on that, boarding schools do have a certain something about them, don't they? i hope you can get to one or all of these places in your life - i can speak from experience wales is especially beautiful, but i can really see you in new york, too. wherever you end up star, i truly hope you're happy there.

an hour and fifteen mins?!!? the fastest i've read something was a clockwork orange in two and a half hours or so- you are so strong star, i've watched that film 20+ times and only watched the last half an hour maybe 4 /lh

that is SO CUTE oh my god- i will admit, for it chapter two i did channel my inner bill denbrough and wore some flannel (i luv that limbo <3)

you deserve all of these words and more, i promise you. you deserve something a lot less clumsy, but i offer you my best. left handed.. you rly are neil huh? /j

all of those ideas; absolutely lovely. the i was good tattoo breaks my heart in the best way possible. im hoping you get all of these tattoos, love. you'd suit them more than anyone, i'm sure. those earrings sound like the coolest fucking things ever? i did have a pair that had a little vodka bottle on, but i lost one in a club and haven't gotten round to replacing them. i definitely want more piercings too,, my conch is looking pretty bare as of late...

that is just. so disgusting? im so- god that makes me so angry i can't even explain. i think i should punch all homophobes straight in the mouth, actually /hj

love, i bet younger you would be so so proud of all you've achieved. from only what you've told me, i am. they'd be over the moon at how intellectual, kind and strong you are, i know it.

I CAN!!! ITS ONE OF MY MOST ESTEEMED TALENTS!!! lets make a deal. you teach me to shoot a bow, i teach you to wield a sword.. we're giving very narnia power couple if i may say.. /hj

i will always be proud of you star, for even the smallest of things you achieve. you're actively making a difference and a change, take bringing this positivity into my life for example. you've got this, star. i know you have.

ps; im wishing you all the best my love, seriously. take every day as it comes, and listen to your mind and wellbeing. im sending you so much love

pps; that quote. is so fucking cute. god im breaking down,, its so pretty and so DHJHFJKNFKKN yeah.

this is me, making you a cup of coffee and your favourite comfort meal, with a kiss on the top of the head. we will have this argument - as much as i love susan, she's no match for you <33

all of my love and happiness, star. you truly are one of a kind.

if i may, i'd like to leave you with an excerpt from a poem i saw earlier that i fell in love with;

"and you laugh. / loudly- / head tipping back. / and while your eyes / are on the ceiling, / i am mouthing / something too heavy even / for this steady night to shoulder. / "this is not a joke." i mouth. / "love me. love me." - letters from medea, salma deera

#asks <3 #anon asks!#star anon #long post

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recurring-polynya · 4 years ago

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9, 13, 19, 23 for RenRuki OTP meme!

9. Have they made each other cry?

Neither Rukia nor Renji are criers by nature, but absolutely yes.

I looked it up, and weirdly enough, Rukia does *not* cry in the manga version, but she does cry in the anime when Renji tells her to go to the Kuchiki. Regardless, I think they both had some wet face syndrome in the days following that.

Rukia was having a pretty tough time in the Academy, and Renji was in a constant state of unconsciously rubbing it in. I bet he made her cry at least once, although she is way too stubborn to actually do it in front of him, I think she did it in private, later.

I’m not sure crying over someone is the same as them making you cry, but I believe with 100% of my being that the “fear she was trying to avoid” in the As Nodt fight was Renji-related, and even though she held it together pretty well at the time, I hope homegirl went home and had a good cathartic sob after the fact.

In the same vein, it’s very believable that Renji had at least one tearful breakdown at some point in the Soul Society Arc. I imagine he came home and puked his guts out after he had to arrest her and throw her in a holding cell and there could have been some tears that went along with that, and possibly also after he found out that Byakuya had no intention of lifting a finger to stay her execution. (I just realized this is not the first time I have headcanoned Renji puking out of grief and it’s true, I think he does, it’s great, I love my brain, thanks)

I would bet money that Renji (possibly both of them) teared up a little when Ichika was born, and/or when they found out about the pregnancy.

Also, not to ruin the vibe, but it seems highly likely that at some point in their acquaintance, probably in their Inuzuri days, Rukia kicked Renji in the nards hard enough to make tears come out of his face.

13. Name something they would never do for the other person.

Like the dealbreaker question, this one is really hard because they are both really intense people who are absolutely ride-or-die for each other (as well as everyone else they know). I am still sticking to my guns that Rukia became a shinigami in the first place for Renji’s sake, and Renji’s entire first character arc involved him binning 40 years of hard work and career ladder climbing to be with her.

That being said, though, they do maintain a fair amount of personal autonomy that I think they would stick to. Renji would never get his brow tatts removed, for example, no matter how much Rukia hates them (or conversely, I think he didn’t tell her before he got them because he knew she’d tell him not to, and he was determined to get them and wouldn’t have listened to her anyway). Likewise, if she asks, he will refrain from wearing a particular pair of extra-terrible sunglasses to a Kuchiki family picnic, but he’s not going to get rid of the sunglasses collection for her. I honestly can’t imagine her seriously asking him to do either of these things-- she’d rather just drag him for them.

I think the part in WDKALY where Rukia decides to keep “Kuchiki” as her professional name was written in a kinda stilted and dumb way, but I do not disagree with it. I am reasonably sure that this was decided at an editorial level, because if they have a Bleach continuation, they would want the character to keep her more familiar name, but then they added the fact that she took his name more generally because people are weird about women who don’t take their husbands name (and then people argue that her keeping her name is “evidence” that she doesn’t love him... so, honestly, there’s no winning either way). Personally, I didn’t like that they waited until they were actually in line at the Soul Society DMV to have this discussion (with Byakuya standing around, no less), but but otherwise, I think it’s a nice compromise, and that Rukia would want to use the names of both the men she considers her family. Renji seemed vaguely disappointed that she wasn’t taking his name entirely, and I can see that, but also, it’s her choice and he doesn’t make a stink about it, which rings true to me.

In all of these examples, the principle is that, all else being equal, each of them will take input from the other, but they would stick to their guns when it comes to decisions about themselves. That doesn’t mean they are going to die on these hills out of sheer stubbornness. I wrote a fanfic once where Byakuya died and Renji married Rukia in order to help her consolidate power in the family, and he took her name and very vehemently made everyone call him by it.

Also, I am sure there are some household chores that Renji would like done to some particular specifications, and Rukia just will not. Like, she refuses to rinse the dishes before she puts them in the dishwasher and she won’t squeegee the glass after she showers, or whatever the Soul Society equivalents of these things are.

19. If they could each write a single line in their marriage vows, what would they be?

I cannot emphasize enough that Byakuya paid for their entire fancy Kuchiki-ass wedding and even though they are constantly on their best behavior around him, he knows how they are and he would never, ever let them write their own vows.

So, here is a dispatch from some secondary drunken, backyard wedding that they had for close-friends only (Byakuya was also there, but Isshin slipped him a pot brownie and he was feeling very at one with the universe at the time)

Who the heck writes a single line of their wedding vows?? I gave them each a paragraph.

Rukia:

People have been joking a lot, every since we started dating, how lucky you are, but the fact is, I am the lucky one. I’ve been so fortunate, in my life, to have such good friends and family, but I feel luckiest of all to have you-- you’ve always been there to cheer me on, to pick me up, to make me pickles. You’re brave and you’re handsome and you have really, really great hair, and I feel like the luckiest person in Soul Society that I get to marry you. I love you so, so much, you big dummy.

Renji:

I used to think that I would be content if I could just love you from afar. That just being able to see you and hear your voice and know that you were happy was enough for me. But I was wrong, as it turns out, because being able to touch you and kiss you and tell you I love you a hundred times a day has made me happier than I ever thought I could be. I expect that being married to you is going to make me more powerful and obnoxious than anyone here could possibly imagine and I am absolutely not sorry. I love you so, so much, you little dummy.

See, Byakuya, that wasn’t so bad! (maybe it was)

Bonus! In the dead Byakuya fanfic I mentioned above, I had them get married under Gotei authority and I wrote some (partial) shinigami wedding vows that are basically perfect for them and also I was really proud of them:

How will you meet your enemies? As one, we shall meet them, as one, we shall fight.

And how do you swear this? We swear on sword and soul.

Let it be so. With this, you are forged together, a single blade. May your battle be long, and when you fall, may you fall together.

23. Write a ~300 scene between them with no dialogue, only body language.

Wow. Dang. This felt like a personal attack. Anyway, it was really hard, and I did it, but I didn’t like it.

Here’s the scene right where Renji hauls Ichigo off to go fight Ywhach, because I am always thinking about this scene and willing it to make sense (Rukia should have gone with Ichigo, I will die on this hill!!!!), and I think it only works if there’s a bunch of unsaid subtext. It’s depressing, but it’s only 511 words, which is very much like 300 words, almost exactly the same, honestly.

The others don’t see it, because they are busy watching Orihime restore Ichigo’s sword, his swords, for maybe the last time, but Rukia does, because she needs an explanation.

Renji’s shoulders slump, his chin tips down, his hands are open at his sides.

He is sorry.

He better be sorry! Rukia clenches her jaw, her eyes burn at him. She is the one who should have yanked Ichigo to his feet, she is the one who should go with him to his death.

Renji’s eyes slide upward and meet hers. His jaw is set.

He is right, and she knows it.

Orihime is hurt. Her lungs are making ominous bubbling noises as Zangetsu pieces itself back together under her care. Rukia is exhausted, but she can manage the kaidou that will save her friend’s life. Renji cannot.

It is more than that, though. Rukia’s bankai is perilous. Ichibei warned her that she should use it sparingly-- that it will take many hours of practice before her body can handle the wrenching temperature shocks. She has used it too many times already in the last 48 hours. She still can’t feel all her fingers and toes since she came back from killing As Nodt. Another go at it so soon may kill her before she even has a chance to be useful. It could kill her and everyone in her blast radius, which might be helpful, but probably...not. Her hand rubs nervously at the hilt of her sword. She tries to flex the dead pinkies, but they deny her.

Renji sees the motion, and he grips Zabimaru confidently. His bankai is new to him, too, but Hihiou Zabimaru was like a weighted practice blade-- So-oh Zabimaru is familiar enough and easy in comparison. Sode no Shirayuki and Zabimaru are both temperamental blades, but Zabimaru has always been at their most dependable when the odds are stacked against them.

Rukia reaches out and gives Orihime’s hair a gentle pat. She will stay, but she will not like it.

The side of Renji’s mouth ticks up in a rueful half-smile, and his eyes glitter with the last bit of humor he can muster. She can beat him up all she likes when he gets back.

Rukia flings an arm around Orihime, and stuffs her face into her friend’s shoulder. None of this is fair.

Renji’s eyes soften briefly, and his eyes are filled with so much love for her. He knows he has the easy job. There aren’t any words to thank her enough for letting him go on a suicide mission with Ichigo while she stays back to give them something worth fighting for.

Then he stiffens, and squares his shoulders once again. He jabs Ichigo impatiently with one foot and screws up his face into the same scowl he always uses to armor his heart.

It won’t work, Rukia thinks, as Orihime finishes her task and slumps backward. She will keep Renji’s heart here with her, and Orihime will keep Ichigo’s, and no matter what, none of them will die alone.

#otp meme #renruki #rukia kuchiki #renji abarai #this was one big portions for foxes callback post wasn't it?#why can't i ever stick to the rules of these things?#i don't know #there's something wrong with me #thanks for the ask!!

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dolanrings · 5 years ago

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ELECTRIC LOVE ll g.d.

summary: Elena Cordova always thought she had her life figured out. The plan was this - marry her high school sweetheart, work her dream job as an art teacher, two kids, and live in a beautiful home sized just right for her family. Although the high school sweetheart doesn't work out, maybe her tutor, Grayson Dolan, does.

A/N: hi this is my first fic 🥺 im new 👉🏽👈🏽+ creds to owner for the gif

Elena Cordova always thought she had her life figured out. The plan was this - marry her high school sweetheart, work her dream job as an art teacher, two kids, and live in a beautiful home sized just right for her family. But at the moment, it didn’t seem like the high school sweetheart part of the plan was working out so well.

It was the second to last week of high school and a ceremony for scholarship recipients was being hosted in the auditorium of the school. One of her family’s proudest moments was seeing Elena go onstage and win three scholarships for merits and her art. The night felt almost perfect, the one fault being Adam, her boyfriend, being a no show.

Trying not to let it bother her too much, she ran offstage to her family once the ceremony was over, being met with an abundance of flowers and balloons from her parents alone.

“I am so proud of you!” Gabriela, her mother, told her as she hugged her tight and kissed her temple. She accepted the love openly before moving on to her dad, Eduardo, who shoved more flowers her way, making her laugh.

“Congratulations sweetheart, you are officially smart enough for this family,” he teased, smiling brightly and looking like the epitome of a proud dad.

“Oh, ha, ha, you’re absolutely hilarious!” She rolled her eyes and accepted the bouquet. “And thank you for these, I hope they didn’t cost too much.”

“Can this one even go one night without spending basically hundreds on her kids?” he asked, not-so-subtly pointing to Gabriela. She playfully shoved his shoulder and he laughed, but Elena nodded in agreement anyway.

“Good point.”

Elena found herself being basically tackled as a familiar voice told her, “Congratulations, you’re rich!” When that person let her go, she looked to find that it was her best friend, Madeline, smiling at her like a goon.

“I almost died from that, if I die, I can’t be rich so be gentle with me,” she joked, and Maddy rolled her eyes before going in for a proper hug.

“Shut up, I love you,” Maddy told her before letting her go and looking at her. “No one is out here doing it like you, you’re such a baddie.”

In that moment, she felt a hand at the small of her back, which startled her at first until she looked to see it was none other than Adam. In an instant, the whole vibe changed, and her smile fell to a stony look rather than feeling happy to see him.

“She really is a baddie, huh?” he asked, a hint of teasing in his voice before pressing a kiss to her cheek. “My baddie.”

“It’s ugly when you say it, Adam,” Maddy deadpanned. “I hope you choke.”

“Woah, I just got here, what is with the hostility?”

“Because I hate you.”

“Aw, I love you too, Mads.”

Elena’s brother, Brandon, and her sister, Lyla, approached them then, most likely to check on what’s happening.

“Adam, dude, surprised you actually made it tonight, didn’t think we’d see you,” Brandon says to him.

“Yeah, you kinda missed the whole thing,” Lyla adds, nodding in agreement.

“I had work, I’m sorry guys,” he told them with a shrug, and Elena looked at him again, confused.

“I thought you took off for me tonight…”

“I meant to. I did, I just...I get busy, El, I must’ve forgot.”

Elena hums in acknowledgement before looking at her siblings and Maddy and grabbing Adam’s hand. “I need a minute with Adam,” she told them before dragging him along outside the building.

“What were you really doing?” she questions once they’re alone. She crosses her arms and looks at him expectantly.

“I told you, I was working!”

“Even after I asked you this morning if you were coming and you said yes?”

“I was busy this morning, I don’t even remember you asking me. I might’ve just glanced and said yes without actually thinking about it, baby, I’m sorry.”

“Adam! You fucking knew how important this was to me! For once I asked you to put me first and what do you do? You just fucking go to work and forget about me! I get put on the backburner like usual!”

“Elena, I don’t know what you want from me!”

“I want you to give me what I give you! When you have your stupid fucking games or anything else that you feel like is important, I always show up for you! But when it’s for me, it always just seems to slip your mind or something else always has to come up! Why is that, Adam, why?”

“I’m trying, Elena! But I have a life and things that matter more to me than a stupid scholarship ceremony!”

Elena huffed a breath, a little taken aback at him saying it was stupid. He seemed to know how that came out, because he sighed and started to say something.

“Stupid?”

“I didn’t mean-”

“No, I think you did.”

“Well, it’s not exactly the way I wanna spend my fucking night, Elena! Seeing that everyone’s futures are kind of being handed to them, including my own fucking girlfriend, when I can’t even get a single fucking break in life!”

“You want a break in life, Adam?”

“You know what? Yeah, I do. And I would like a break from your constant nagging about me not fitting in that dumb ass dream of yours. It’s a fucking dream for a reason, El.”

“Well, here’s your break, sweetheart. We’re done,” she scoffs, starting to walk away from him.

“Yeah, right. Get back here.” He tried to reach for her, but she doesn’t let him even touch her before turning to look at him.

“Yeah right? Adam, I am seriously done with this! I cannot and I will not continue to put time and energy into this relationship when you can’t even show up to a ‘stupid ceremony’ for a few hours when it comes to me! You think a future is being handed to people here? No, people worked hard, and want more for themselves, unlike you. You could be so successful, Adam, even maybe more than you think I am, but you don’t want to do anything! So I am not going to give you my all when you don’t want anything but to sit around and be a victim to everything, even me.”

And on that note, she walked away from him for real, not even giving him a chance to respond.

When she met with her family after so they could head home, she was quieter than usual. Her family talked around her about things like what they wanted for dinner or joking about what some people were wearing to the ceremony. Once they were home, Gabriela pulled Elena aside to ask her what was wrong, knowing that her silence was very odd. Elena just started crying in lieu of an actual response at first, and her mom hugged her tightly to comfort her.

“I just broke up with Adam,” she told her, pulling away just a little to talk, “and he didn’t even really care. But I love him, and I wish he cared and appreciated me so much more.” She went back to hugging her mom and Gabriela pet her hair as Eddy watched from a short distance.

He hasn’t seen her like this for so long, not since she was a child, so seeing her this upset was very out of the ordinary. He tried to usher everyone inside, but Brandon and Lyla just wanted to comfort her too, joining in on the hug. Eddy just joined them as well, deciding she needed this more than a moment to cry.

“This was supposed to be a happy night with good memories,” she says, sniffling, “I can’t believe that asshole ruined it.”

“Hey, mija, calm down, it’s alright. Plus, you’re gonna give yourself wrinkles with all this upset.”

“Dad!”

“Okay, okay, but can we at least go inside to talk?” Eddy asks, and this time everyone agrees and heads inside to their living room. There, Elena explains everything that happened with Adam outside with her parents sitting beside her and her siblings listening attentively.

“El, my love,” her dad started telling her, “I know you thought you had a perfect life all planned out, but you know what? Life sometimes just doesn’t work out. And that has to be okay when it doesn’t. You’re brilliant, you have such good things in life, and you will one day find someone who is ready to give you what you want and more.”

“I wanted that with Adam, dad.”

“Fuck Adam,” Brandon scoffed, and Gabriela gave him a look.

“Brandon,” she said, her voice letting everyone know it was his one and final warning.

“No, he’s right though,” Lyla spoke up, “literally fuck Adam. Right now, the focus isn’t boys and dating anyway, you need to worry about yourself first and live for you first.”

“Easy to say when the first person you guys found was the one for you, mom, and dad,” she countered, frustration evident in her tone.

“Hey, at least you got me in your same boat,” Brandon reassures. Lyla scoffed, making him look at her with a furrowed brow. “What?”

“No offense, Brandon, you know I love you, but you also need to-”

“Mmh mmh,” he started, “this is just not about me, let’s keep the focus on Elena.”

“You know what, maybe you’re right Lyla,” Elena decided. “I’m gonna be going into my first year of college and pursue the one thing I love more than anything. That really should be my focus. A nice, fresh start.”

“That’s the spirit,” Gabriela said, clapping and standing up, starting to make her way to the kitchen. “Let’s celebrate with dinner! And a movie, someone pick something!”

Lyla got up and followed her mom to the kitchen to grab utensils to set up the dinner table while Brandon and Eddy both started to fight for the remote.

In the time following this, her fresh start really did begin, starting with spending a good month of her summer in Puerto Rico with her family and Maddy following graduation. There, they visited beaches, went to nightclubs, and visited a lot of her family. Following that, they got back home to New Jersey, and Elena went right back out to Maddy’s beach house, spending lots of time taking pictures and visiting the boardwalk.

As fun as her summer was, she shifted gears when the time came down to it, and it was truly a rough start when making the transition from high school to college. She had a lot on her mind and lots of stuff to juggle, plus she still found herself thinking of Adam and their downfall. Breaking up with him was something she definitely needed to do, but it didn’t make it any easier to just forget about him. On top of that, she had a job in the library that she really needed, and found useful since she was able to do some coursework on shift if it was slow enough. It was a rough start, indeed, but once she really got the hang of it and made some friends, she was able to finish off strong and make for a decent freshman year.

Her first semester of sophomore year is the one that she was in for a treat with. It was Monday morning and she was a couple minutes early to her 10:50 Calculus class in order to get a good seat. The professor promptly started at 10:50, even though a few people were still piling in. One guy came in later than the rest by about eight minutes. As if that wasn’t enough for him to have Elena’s attention, he had lengthy hair that fell just past his ears and he was wearing grey sweats paired with a plain blue tee. Elena had to shake it off though, reminding herself that her focus was her career and not boys.

The professor ended class a little early, which Elena appreciated since she had a shift at noon and this class was cutting close to that. In her rush to leave, she didn’t notice that she was going to run into someone, and that someone knocked the book out of her hands.

“Oh fuck, I’m really sorry about that,” he said, picking up the book and handing it to Elena. He held onto it just a second too long while looking at her, distracted by the fact that she was actually very pretty.

“It’s fine,” she rushed out, brushing hair behind her ear and taking the book back. “Thanks for picking it up.”

He didn’t even get to say anything in response before she was rushing out of the classroom and making her way to the library. On her way there, she texted Maddy and Brandon in their group chat.

elena: omg i just bumped into the hottest guy in the whole entire world ???

elena: adam who??

brandon: omfg el not this, please

maddy: be honest - scale of one to ten, how hot???

elena: eleven !!!

maddy: sis. get him.

brandon: no !!! no, do not get ANYTHING you don’t need this rn

elena: but brandon he’s literally an ELEVEN if not a twelve

brandon: i am so over this gc ! when are we ever gonna talk about intellectual things??

elena: never bc you also come to us to talk about cute boys soooo

brandon: excuse you i would never

elena: ANYWAY he is the loml

maddy: YES !! FUCK ADAM FR SIS MOVE ON GET THE ELEVEN-TWELVE GUY !!!

Elena just laughed and put her phone away to clock in for what she already knows will be a very uneventful shift. It’s the first day back and she didn’t even have much to do class wise, since Calc was her first and only class for today. She decided to just sit and look over her syllabus all the way through while watching out for anyone who might come in and check out textbooks and other stuff for first class homework.

While Elena was working, Plain Blue was still in the classroom, trying to remember what he was trying to do before the collision. His brain was caught in that moment, though, wondering where she was off to so quickly.

The sound of their professor shuffling papers suddenly pulled him from his thoughts and reminded him he needed the syllabus.

“Hi,” he greeted, and the professor looked up at him.

“Ah, yes. You’re the late one.”

“Actually, I’m Grayson, but late one works too. I actually need a copy of the syllabus, being that I was late.”

“And what was more important than being on time for my class?” the professor asked. He wasn’t actually upset, but Grayson didn’t catch onto that, since he was a bit stressed by the situation.

“I was in a different class, I kinda messed up my schedule and this one conflicted with a gen ed I need too, so I was trying to fix it before school started, but the freakin’ registrar—”

The professor stopped him with a simple raise of his hand before pulling out a syllabus and handing it to Grayson. He sighed and took it, relieved that this professor wasn’t some kind of asshole.

“It was a joke, kid, I get it. Life happens. Sorry about your rough start today.”

“Thank you,” Grayson said, glancing at the time. “Fuck, I’m sorry sir, I have another class that I’m now running late to.” Before the professor could even say anything else, he was rushing out of the room, shooting a text to his twin brother, Ethan, about his horrible day.

grayson: bro im having the worst ducking day in my entire ducking life

grayson: FUCKING* FUCK

ethan: u need to relax

grayson: i was late to my second class and now i am late to my third why did i make my schedule back to back

He hit send on that text and entered the library, taking a quick glance at the front desk and seeing the girl he bumped into earlier. He then typed out another message to his brother while making his way towards her.

grayson: now i am about to be more late :)

About halfway through her shift, a familiar face approached the front desk and smiled at her before he started talking.

“Hey, I saw you in math class this morning,” he informed, leaning against the counter. She sat up and eyed him curiously.

“Yeah, and you’re the klutz who knocked the book out of my hands.”

“I said sorry, no?” Elena shrugged and he just continued talking. “That very same book is why I’m here actually. I was wondering if I could cop pictures of your textbook for the homeworks.”

“Oh, so I don’t even know you by name or anything, and I’m just supposed to let you take pictures of my book because you...asked nicely?”

“I-I’m Grayson, if that helps with the name part,” he told her, standing up straight and holding his hand out for her to shake. Her eyes flickered between his hand and his face for a bit before she decided to just shake his hand anyway.

“Elena,” she said simply. “Let’s say I do let you take pictures of my textbook, Grayson. What do I get out of it?” she asked him, resting her chin in the palm of her hand.

“A very good friend,” he says with a smile, also resting his chin in the palm of his hand. In her mind, it was so very endearing and she wanted to smile very badly, but externally she made sure to remain unimpressed.

“Are you good at math?” she asked, and he nodded once.

“I’d say so.”

“In exchange for the textbook pictures, how about you help me figure all this stuff out so I can pass.”

Grayson smiles more and pulls out his phone, unlocking it before holding it out for her to take. “How about you give me your number and we can try to work something out?’

Internally, she was really shook up by the fact that this really hot guy wanted her number. Externally, she remained calm and took his phone, putting her number in it.

#grayson dolan #dolan twins #grayson dolan fan fic #grayson dolan au #college au #hehe im scared #e.l.1

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mayascherub · 5 years ago

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ethan ramsey x mc fanfic - “dirty pig”

pt. 2 of the ethan ramsey x mc fanfic “I love you no matter how you look. From the beginning, I was attracted to you. Not your appearance”

⚠️ warning: talk about fat shaming, sexual harassment, sexism, misogyny

Tag list:

@drethanramslay @sekizincimektup @ethandaddyramsey @openheart12 @noboundariesplease @caseyvalentineramsey @kaavyaethanramsey (tell me if you want to be added or removed!)

Thank you guys so much for the support! I am glad how much the last fanfic meant for a lot of you🥺

————

The weeks got by quickly. Ever since Ethan had confessed his love for Casey, her brain was only occupied by him. And his by her. It would not be nearly enough to only say thoughts, as every intention, action and dream screamed “Casey! Ethan! Together!” in both of their brains.

It could not be explained exactly how they got through the diagnostic team meetings, interaction with patients and medical staff without sounding and looking completely dumbfounded - but they did, amazingly enough. Only twice did someone comment suspiciously. June had to ask Ethan a question four times before he finally could focus and give her only an mildly adequate answer. Casey giggled, well knowing of the look in his eyes - all it screamed was “Casey”.

Casey was pouring Jackie a cup of coffee in their apartment, being so unfocused on the coffee, since she tried her very best at remaining cool whilst her roommates’ conversation was about Ethan. “Casey! What are you doing?” Jackie yelled as Casey accidentally poured coffee all the way down Jackie’s wrist. “Are you immobile?”

“What? Sorry!”

Now it’s important to state that Ethan and Casey never slept together after their talk, nor did they simply kiss or share any other romantic interactions. Although, his love was confessed and Casey wanted answers.

Casey looked at the door with his name on it for quite a while. Casey, you have to act now. People will think you are paralyzed. She thought and therefore quickly grapped the door handle. Ethan was standing with his arms crossed, looking sternly at a man in his mid-forties.

“Oh! I’m so sorry Eth- Dr. Ramsey”

Ethan looked annoyed at Casey but his gaze quickly softened.

“It’s fine, Dr. Valentine. Dr. Talbot was just about to go”

Ethan waved his hand at the middle aged man and gestured towards the door. The man looked mockingly at Casey and snorted.

“Are you serious, woman? We are having a conversation. Get your ass out”

Ethans jaw tightened, but kept his cool.

“Well Dr. Talbot. Or, now Mr. Talbot I guess. You have received your punishment from Dr. Banerji, I frankly don’t understand why you came to me in the first place.”

Casey swifted uncomfortably on her feet, realizing which man she had met. Dr. Talbot was fired by Naveen, since a patient had reported sexual harassment against him. After that, several of the nurses and a few of the interns also came forward with sexual harassment allegations against him. He was currently on trial, and therefore finding the circumstances of his firing unreasonable - he was now asking Ethan if it could be reduced to suspension, since he wasn’t proved guilty yet. Naveen couldn’t be persuaded into doing it, so Dr. Talbot instead went after Ethan - thinking he would be on his side.

“Well.. Dr. Ramsey. I can’t imagine that you haven’t.. a few times.. made some mistakes, y’know? Mistakes like thinking some women would appreciate some attention, I mean.. they usually do. And then they just blow up with all this sexu-“

Ethans face welled up with so much anger and disgust as he interrupted Mr. Talbot, making Casey able to feel his revulsion.

“No. Mr. Talbot. And don’t you dare make your actions sound like small mistakes. It clearly is a pattern of yours, being extremely misogynistic, disgusting and overly inappropriate. And if you think every man in power is misusing his power and privilege to do such vile actions, you are wrong. Very. Wrong.”

Ethan grapped his arm and shoved him towards the door, making Mr. Talbot pass Casey on his way out.

“Go. And if I see you around here I promise I will fucking punch you.”

Mr. Talbot looked suprised at Ethan, and stopped right beside Casey. He gave Ethan a smirk as he swifted his attention to Casey.

“I see. You are putting on your feminist for this little thing.” He looked at Casey and let his eyes rest on her chest, but continued to her stomach. Casey felt her hairs on her neck rise as she uncomfortably hugged her torso and looked down in the floor.

“Or. Not little. Are you banging this fattie, huh Ethan?”

Mr. Talbot let out a chuckle and looked up at Ethan again. Just as Ethan have had enough.

It was like a little switch inside Ethans brain got turned on. Unfortunately for Mr. Talbot, it was the switch-of-protection-for-Casey. It was only one, but a very tough and quick punch directed right in the middle of Mr. Talbot’s face. Swuush. Continued by a loud bang as he lost his balance and fell to the floor.

“Argh!”

Ethan retreated, coughed and straighted his tie as he opened his mouth.

“And that was for fat shaming.” Ethan bend his knees so he was in eyesight with the fallen man.

“Want one more? You deserve a hell of a lot more for what you’ve put the other women through”

Mr. Talbot finally realized the much taller doctor’s intimidating glance.

“I.. n..no. Dr. Ramsey. I..” he got on his feet “I’m sorry” Ethan also stood up, crossing his arms.

“You are sorry?”

Ethan mockingly snorted and looked to the side, his jaw clenching once more.

“Don’t apologize to me. I can’t use it for shit. Apologize to Dr. Valentine. And after that, you can get the fuck out of this hospital and write apology emails to the other victims. I don’t think they want to see a dirty pig like you again”

Ethan took a step closer to Mr. Talbot and looked intimidatingly down at him.

“I know I won’t”

“I... I’m sorry Casey” Mr. Talbot stuttered and looked scared at Casey.

“Well.” Casey just realized how she had been almost completely silent throughout the whole interaction. She was baffled with Mr. Talbots behavior, but still relentlessly falling more and more in love with Ethan. What felt like just the other day, he was being supportive and body-loving, which made her feel comfortable around him - even though she still was working on her insecurities, it was delightful to know how he felt. She knew she didn’t need his validation, but how his views were, made her able to focus on herself.

Now he had literally punched a guy for her, because - of not only fat-shaming, but also because of his views on misogyny, sexism and the #metoo movement. Ethan was a feminist, and she would lie if it wasn’t attractive as fuck.

“Well. To you Mr. Talbot, it’s Dr. Valentine. I am an educated doctor, y’know. Just like Dr. Ramsey. Only my close friends can call me Casey. Thank you for protecting me, Dr. Ramsey. But I would like to say something myself”

Ethan smirked and looked annoyed at Mr. Talbot as he coughed uncomfortably. “Of course. Sorry Dr.”

“Promise me that you won’t ever do this again. And I will put in a good word with Dr. Banerji”

Ethans face quickly fell as the smirk turned into a confused glare at Casey. But he kept silent as she continued.

“I want you to beg.”

Mr. Talbot just chuckled but quickly realized she was being serious.

“Oooh. Ok.” He scratched the back of his head and opened his mouth once more. “Please talk to Dr. Banerji for me, everyo-“

“No. This is not working. On one knee”

Casey smiled from ear to ear. Ethan tried to hide his, but knew what she was doing. Mr. Talbot was about to refuse, but got on one knee.

“I.. Please. Everyone deserve a second chance”

He held his hands together and begged.

“Ok. That’s quite enough. You can go, Mr. Talbot”

He glanced once more at Ethan but hastily left the office. Casey closed the door and bursted out with laughter.

“As if I would ever mention him again to anyone.. and to Naveen??? Is he mental???”

Ethan just smiled at her and sat down on his desk.

“You did well. I’m sorry if I was being.. a little..” he was searching for the words “Over-protective? Perhaps? I just.. i’m tired of men like him”

Casey bit her lower lip and let out another of her bright smiles. “No! I.. I appreciate it.”

They locked eyes, feeling relieved and lost in each other’s presence.

“So? Ethan the feminist?”

“Yes. And people - especially other men - like to make jokes about it. I am proud of it.”

“You should be.”

Casey knew why she originally entered his office. To find out more about the love for her, that he had declared. But now she couldn’t. She was loving the moment to much to harm it. Casey was not dumb, and she knew her mentor pretty well. It would get awkward and probably uncomfortable if she mentioned their former talk. She knew he wanted to keep it professional. But.. he already told her that he loved her. Why back down?

“I should.. go to my patient” were Casey able to say.

“Oh. Ok. Yes. You.. uhm. Yes” Ethan stood up and turned his back to her.

Both with unspoken words left behind.

#oph #pb #open heart #pixelberry #oh2 #drethanramsey #dr ethan jonah ramsey #choices open heart 2 #mc x ethan ramsey #ethan ramsey x mc #dr ethan ramsey #dr. ethan ramsey #ethanramsey #ethan x mc #ethan x reader #mc x ethan #ethan ramsey

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aloneandunreal · 4 years ago

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march 26, 21

wow, i really have not posted in a long time. i decided to post just because i feel like ranting i suppose, and this is what that account is for. i've been thinking about things a lot, but it doesn't feel right to push it onto a friend. most of it is meaningless anyway, or at least it would probably be meaningless and stupid to anybody else. but first of all, i cannot believe i created this account last may (i think?) and that's coming up on a year!

anyway, i've just been a bit sad and anxious about school/graduating and college. i think a lot of people feel this way, so it's not like my feelings are completely abnormal. still, i wanted to rant a bit about it. i don't really know where to begin. this year started off crazy, with school being online and all. i remember the night before school began i was so anxious knowing it was my senior year, but having slight hope that maybe, just maybe, things would go back to being somewhat normal and i could finish off high school feeling satisfied. i don't really think that's going to happen. even with all of the senior activities my school is trying to set up (graduation, prom, etc), it just won't be the same. they're talking about reopening for hybrid on april 17th or sometime around then, but even so, i don't think i'd go. it's a bit too late for that now, it would be kind of pointless, honestly. i've talked about this in (many) previous entries, but i just really, truly wish i could've had more of a senior year. or just more of a high school experience in general. there were some moments where i felt like a true, reckless teenager, but that was a small amount. a very small amount.

now, i don't particularly care about high school that much. i know if everything was "normal" i wouldn't be doing anything differently, but it would've been nice to be at my school, feeling accomplished because i was finally a senior. at the top. almost done. it doesn't feel like that now. because covid began in march of my junior year, and i haven't stepped foot in that school since then, i still feel like i'm sixteen. i feel as if i haven't learned anything or really changed at all. maybe if i could've had a normal end to my junior year and senior year things would've been different. last year i was terrified of turning seventeen, but now i cannot believe i'm going to be eighteen. it absolutely feels unreal. and i also cannot believe that little fourteen year old me romanticized this age so much -- it's really not that fun at all, sorry to break it to you 14 year old me.

it's even more odd how i kind of miss this time last year in a way. there were no video calls for school and, for the most part, it was kind of nice to be away from school and not having to worry about SATs and such. of course there were things to worry about, but at the same time, i don't know. i feel like i had more time. i was a junior, and that summer would be the summer before my senior year. in retrospect, it sounded fun. sometimes i wish i could have appreciated it more, but then i think to myself... i did? or at least i think i did. it was a pretty okay summer for covid. but now, now is really my last summer before college. i'm not going to be going back to the high school i've been at for the past few years. i'll be starting somewhere new. and that's terrifying to think about.

i regret a lot of things throughout my life, but especially my high school years. i really wish i could have enjoyed things more. my freshman year i was really depressed and doing horribly in school, sophomore year i did amazing academically but i had no fun and was too anxious to do... anything, really. and then my junior year of course got cut short. i just never got to experience being in a friend group, having my first kiss, getting a significant other, etc. thinking about it, it makes me feel like a total outcast. sometimes i'll be in class (well, on a video call), and we'll be having fun or laughing, and yes, technically the whole class is included, but i... just don't feel apart of my class. you know, class of 2021. i feel like an outsider. i'm there, but i'm not. i wish i could relate to kids my age more, understand their inside jokes, whatever. there are people i know of that i know for a FACT i'd be friends with... but i never got the chance to pursue anything because of anxiety and now... this. having no contact with anyone my age because we're no longer in school. overall, it's just hard to explain. i just want to feel included in something. i've always just been a loner. i mean, i sat by myself for two years in a row during lunch. junior year i sat with one friend, so that was an upgrade i suppose. i also always hated when we had parties or "fun days" in class, because that meant no learning. people would talk to their friends and i'd be sitting alone. they'd only talk to me if class was in session because they kind of... had to. i don't know. it's hard being a loner, especially when you don't want to be one. it's a bit too late to change anything now, whether that be making new friends, getting a s/o, etc. my school actually plans to have prom, and although anxious, i'm considering going with a friend. but, really, what am i going to do there? i have no friends besides her. i know she wouldn't ditch me, but at the same time, she'll probably gather with her friend group and i'll be standing there, silent, awkwardly listening. and it's fine if she wants to talk to her friends. but i wish i had a friend group like that. or at least a friend i'm close with. the girl i'm going to (potentially) go with isn't even great friends with me.

it's always been like that with my friends. i'm their one outsider friend. not included in their group, but still friends with them. and that's fine, i never felt the urge to try to squeeze and force myself into a friend group that wouldn't want me. but it just hurt sometimes when they'd treat me differently when i was with them alone vs. with them AND their friends. i'd never be included. sometimes one of my friends might completely ignore me when they're talking to their group or with a separate friend. and i'd just be there like a total, utter burden. i never understood why people treated me so differently when they were around other friends. sometimes i wouldn't even be with them, they'd just ignore me and go with their other friends. which is fine, it's fine, no sarcasm. but sometimes i just wish i could be that other friend, the friend who doesn't get ignored and treated differently. in so many different friendships, i have to go through those types of things. and it's confusing... why me? especially since it has become a trend. i just want to be A PART of something.

i guess this is a bit of a topic change now. but another thing i've been thinking about constantly, like any other teenager who has applied to college, is, well, college. yes, i've probably established that i'm terrified and don't exactly feel ready. yes, i've probably established that i don't know if i'll be good enough academically. what if college is just high school all over again? another wasted four years. but that's not my top worry about college right now. instead, it's the fear of not knowing what college to go to. i want to pick the right one; i don't want to be wrong. i've gotten accepted to most colleges i applied to, except one where i was waitlisted (a whole thing in itself), another where i was rejected, and two which have not given me a response yet. i've wanted to go to new york city for school for SO LONG, but i don't even know if that's where i'm going to end up, after so much talk about going there. i might not even end up in a city!

then of course is just the sadness that i'll feel when i get rejected from the one school i've been dreaming about for forever. you're going to laugh if you're reading this, but NYU. yeah. i don't know why i fixated on it, but i haven't gotten a response from them yet. i believe that comes on march 31st. and i have a strong feeling i'm going to get rejected -- i've had that feeling even before i applied to colleges, in the beginning of my junior year. and it's so stupid, because even if i was accepted, i likely wouldn't be able to pay for it. i guess i just want to get accepted so i'll actually feel worthy. so, if that doesn't happen, my self-worth is going down the drain, sadly. i'm not as fixated on NYU as i was, say, in the beginning of my junior year, but i will still be upset if i don't get in.

i feel so pretentious saying this, but i also want to go to a school with a low-acceptance rate. it will make me feel smart. which is DUMB, because there are some amazing high-acceptance schools. but i just feel like, if i go to a high-acceptance school (which i likely will), everyone will be like "of course she went to a high-acceptance school, she's not smart." which i KNOW is irrational and dumb, but it's something that won't leave my mind. i'm so insecure about my intelligence and all of this college stuff has really just made me feel worse. even when i do get accepted to colleges, i haven't felt happy. i haven't felt excitement or joy. and i wish i could. i wish there was some sort of excitement in me, but it doesn't feel like anything special. i just wish i had more of a direction on what college i want to go to or what i even want to do in life. it's so complicated and there's so many little things i'm worried about. if i could, i would explain, but it's hard for me to. some of these worries i can't even explain, they're that minuscule and dumb. overall, i just wish i could be happy with myself and feel accomplished. i don't feel that at all.

thirteen/fourteen year old me probably wouldn't be proud of the person i am now. she imagined someone completely different, i'm sure. i used to dream of graduation and the end of my senior year, now i'm dreading it. both because it's the END of high school and because i'm just nervous about all the attention that will be on me during that time. dumb, i know, i know. the end of high school, for me, will just be clicking the red "leave call" and that terrifies me, of how i'll feel when i leave that call, sitting back, realizing that that's it. it's over. and don't get me wrong, i do in fact want to graduate. i obviously do not want to stay in high school. i am excited for this to be over with. but, of course, at the same time, it's, quite honestly, terrifying.

but, i guess that's really it for now. i'm sure i could talk about this forever, unleashing all of my worries onto this tumblr account nobody will ever find or see or read. but i think now is a good time to stop. overall, i just wish things would be different. not just high school, but my whole life. i'd do anything to start over as someone new. but, alas, that will not be happening.

so, yes, that's it. i guess. i don't know when i will be updating this. maybe in a week, or maybe 3 days before graduation. who knows. (this is not edited, by the way, if anyone is reading this, so i'm sorry for any grammar or spelling errors or just overall cringe. none of my entries are edited).

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spicy-ryls · 5 years ago

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Ranty TROS stuff below. I wrote this on and off days so it might sound disconnected but yeah. Sorry it’s kinda long and my spelling and grammar might not be the best but I just wanted to let my feelings out.

I’m still trying to accept this movie. I watched it on the night of 19 December, the premier date for Malaysia, and I still remember my visceral feeling towards this movie. I remember feeling so empty, baffled, sad and shocked, almost like I just lost a relative or one of my cats, and I’ve experienced that multiple times in my life and it sucks.

Sometimes I think, how could I be so attached to this trilogy? I’ve literally spent so much energy defending TLJ and the ST from the backlash in the local fandom to the point where I couldn’t stand it anymore and I removed myself from the local fanbase as much as I could. But I’ve never felt so betrayed and almost embarassed that I was so invested into it.

I never grew up with Star Wars. Instead, I started watching TFA while I was in that age period between 19-20. I was a little shit and I was still adjsuting to adulthood, so it pretty much was almost like in the process of being born again as an adult. At the time I was making a series of webcomics under the title ‘Gods Among Men’ and I was pretty much drawing almost exclusively Hades/Persephone stuff and I was drawing Hades as this typical tall, dark & handsome guy. At some point, my friends and I just joked at how much I loved that trope that’s it’s like my type in fictional guys, and yes I still love it.

So my friends just said to me “hey, watch the new Star Wars, you’ll love it!”

And I was HOOKED.

I got so into it. I watched all of the other movies, even the Christmas Special. And I loved the character of Kylo Ren so much. Initially I wasn’t instantly into Reylo. But after some fanart or fanfic or two I fell down the rabbit hole of this ship that I loved so much and the two characters of Rey and Kylo/Ben whom I had such a strong connection to.

Q4 of 2017 was the best year for me as a fan of this franchise. I was so excited for TLJ. I was super involved in a lot of local Star Wars related stuff and at that point people just knew me as “That Rey (cosplayer) who liked Reylo and Kylo Ren a lot”. I had made many friends and acquaintances over the year. And then TLJ came.

And the community was divided.

A lot of male fans I knew were so enraged by the movie. “TLJ ruined my childhood!!” they shouted on their facebook wall. “RJ and KK ruined Star Wars” they yelled. It just cemented the Star Wars Fanboy trope so badly that it was laughable that grown men 3 times my age with family AND KIDS were yelling about it for TWO WHOLE YEARS and because I was the one publicly championing the ST, all they talked about to me was about how much they hated it, and it’s still brought on in passing conversation to this day. I hated having to meet these people at events because my encounters are always unpleasant.

Time passed. The Reylo community was prosperous and it really was a golden age of content. We were excited to see how the ending of a saga was going to be, with a definitive Ben Solo redemption and Reylo being canon. And then came the announcement of JJ returning to direct Episode IX. I instantly had a gut feeling that it was not gonna be good, but I will hold my trust to him since he directed TFA. BOY I WAS WRONG.

The TROS panel at SWCC ended in a somewhat hopeful note. Later in the year, interviews were being published, and in the beginning it was all fine and dandy. I can’t remember when the news of reshoots started popping out, but even then I gave them the benefit of the doubt that because this movie was going to tie in all of the other 8 movies and surely they had to do something right about it. Then came in a lot of red flags in merchandising, marketing, cast interviews, etc. Daisy’s and John’s infamous interview felt so OOC for me that I couldn’t believe what I was reading. And at this point, my hopes were very low. I felt something was very off in everything and I was almost inactive of soc med or any TROS news because I wanted to watch the movie with no outside influences. I didn’t even read any leaks and only heard about it in passing.

Then came the week of the premier. I was putting my expectations super low. I just thought of all the bad things that could happen like Rey Palpatine or Kylo/Ben dying and I went into it with that thought. Before the movie, I had to sort of minggle with the crowd of a private screening event as Rey. But I just had so much anxiety before I could even get in costume to the point where I did cry. And it didn’t help that some of the other cosplayers and minders had already seen the movie the previous day and were having borderline spoilery conversations, which did upset me further. Eventually I calmed down enough, but I was still feeling a little down. It sort of helped that the attendees who are usually normal people are usually the kind to take pictures with the more masked or sith-looking guys or my friend who was masked Kylo so I could usually be left alone.

And finally, it was time to watch the movie and I can still remember how dumb I was for thinking this movie was going to be smart. There was just too much going on and I was so in shock of how poorly written, edited and directed it was. There was hardly any cheer or gasps in my cinema throughout the whole thing, although there were one or two who tried to whoop at the Lucasfilm logo but they kept quiet for the rest of it too. It was such a different experience from the one I had of my first TLJ screening. 80% of the time I just had a blank expression on my face and the only time I sort of got excited for were the Rey and Kylo/Ben scenes, except that ending. I really did not like this movie. I did not feel hopeful at all and the ending the just felt so off. I was relieved to see that I was not the only one who thought of it that way.

This movie effected me so much that I had trouble sleeping, loss of apetite, loss of focus and random bouts of crying in my car for how hollow I felt for about a week+. There was a huge convention on the same weekend and everyone who knew me pretty much came up to me and ask how I was and what I thought about the movie, and a simple glance and head shake was enough to convey how much I felt, and I just did not want to talk about it on a busy con day. But after a busy con weekend, I went in full force on venting it out on Twitter and finding myself in discord support groups and I’m glad I was not alone.

Now it’s been 11 days since I’ve watched TROS and I’ve sort of clamed down from being mad about it. But I don’t think I could accept an ending to a saga for how botched it was which stemmed from fan pandering and corporate greed. But I have never been so proud to be in the Reylo community, who are tirelessly finding concrete evidence on how badly edited it was and just how messy things were behind the scenes. I’m glad to have met all of you and even befriend some thanks to this ship and our love for Rey and Ben Solo and every character in the saga. I am very saddened at how badly treated every character was from Rey to Leia and everyone in between, but it’s not going to stop us from creating good fan content and what we’ve had so far is incredible.

Stay strong and save what we love. ❤

#rant #tros

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gender-critical-analytical · 5 years ago

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Just read a post about cops and the shit these crazy, power hungry beasts do, and I want to share a few stories of my own experiences (I would ask you to keep in mind that I am white, and that I recognize how my white privilege kept me from having far, far worse experiences.) But, here we go:

Scene: my family, consisting of me, my mom, my grandmother, and my infant baby sister, is in our car. It’s an old, busted up vehicle that we got on an incredible bargain of $400, because the dealer was sympathetic to what we had going on in our lives at the time. It was winter, the sun was nearly fully set, and it was snowing heavily. We were driving home from checking out a house for rent nearby, which was a bust, because it wasn’t one we would be able to afford anyway. We were about 6 blocks from our house.

Flash of red and blue and a siren. We pulled over. A male cop approached the driver’s window where my grandmother was, and asked her why we thought he had pulled us over. My grandma played dumb and said she had no idea. We all figured it was because our plates were expired, and yeah, that was part of it.

He tells us that we drove too slow a few roads back, and that he suspected my grandma of being intoxicated. She remained completely polite, but told him that there was a very large, visible patch of ice in the road, and that we had already been approaching a red light. She had her two grandchildren in the car, and would rather be safe than sorry. Michigan winters are nasty, after all, especially when it comes to the roads. He accepted that answer. Then, he brought up the expired plates.

And so, my grandma gave him the short rundown:

“Officer, my family lost our home to a house fire, and we’ve just spent more than what we had relocating to our only option, which we still can’t afford. I had to choose between getting the plates renewed and feeding my daughter and her kids, and I made my choice. I’ve been driving as little as I can, and I plan to keep doing so until I can renew my plates.”

And he listened. He heard what she said. But he still didn’t care.

Cop: “Well, I’m sorry, but your vehicle is going to be towed.”

Grandma: “Ok. But we’re only six blocks from our home. Can we get back to our house, and then you can tow the car from there?”

My baby sister began to stir, and the cop looked when he heard her. My little sister is biracial, but she looks fully black. The officer, and I’m not even fucking joking a little bit here, laughs after seeing her, and says, “Well, it would just be a shame if you had to walk out in this cold with the little one.” He was fucking dripping sarcasm.

He had our car towed from where it was. He could have called another cop to drive us back to our home, but instead, he specifically made my grandma and my BABY SISTER stand in the snow, by the road, while he took my mom and I home first. We had no choice in what order he drove us. That man was such a fucking pig, I’m legitimately surprised he didn’t just make us all walk. My baby sister cried all night, and my mom struggled to warm her back up. We spent about a month without any form of transportation, until my grandmother found a dealer with some empathy who could give us another old, banged up car we still couldn’t afford.

Our plates were two months overdue.

Scene: My mother, my cousin and I, are on our way to a birthday party. I’m seven. My cousin is six.

My mom is intoxicated, very much so. She’s an alcoholic, but my cousin and I are too young to know that. She crashes the car.

There are no serious injuries, and no other vehicle is involved. My cousin and I cried like babies, but more out of fear than anything else. He bit his tongue, I bit my lip, or maybe it was the other way around. Either way, we were both bleeding from the mouth, not severely, but enough to frighten us even more.

A cop pulls over beside the car after I’m not sure how long. He is absolutely livid, red in the face. My mom is arrested for driving while intoxicated. The cops calls for backup to handle my cousin and I, but he does not wait for the other officer to arrive. He leaves with my mother in his car, and does not inform my cousin and I of what is happening, or that anyone will be coming for us. We are alone in a wrecked vehicle for nearly an hour before the other officer arrives. He gives a reason as to why he took so long, I don’t remember it. Neither of us know our other relatives phone numbers, we only know 911. The first officer took my mother’s phone along with her. It’s another two hours before we’re left in the custody of my aunt.

Scene: It’s early summer, just the beginning of June, 6 months or so before the first incident on this list. My family is using a rented U-Haul to move most of our furniture, and I have a friend over for my first official sleepover in the house. He helps us move, and for the brief few minutes he isn’t assisting me in lugging furniture into the house, he takes my dogs out into the yard for a small walk. While he’s out, a guy our age (16/17) happens to walk by on the street. He must not read social cues very well, because he stops and tries to talk to my family and I, while we’re moving a wooden dresser down the ramp of the U-Haul.

At one point, he gets out a pocket knife. I should make it clear that he wasn’t a genuine threat to any of us, he was just very, very talkative, and apparently very proud of the big ass knife he had just been given by his grandfather. He swung it around and made some jokes about being a ninja or whatever, and one of my dogs freaked out and made a mad dash at him. My friend, who we’ll call G, hadn’t been prepared to hold a full grown boxer back with one hand gripping the leash, and my dog pulled free and bit the dude’s leg. She didn’t break the skin, and the guy, who we’ll call D, was fine. He said he grew up with large dogs and had been beaten up much worse, and he promptly left without any trouble. This will become important later.

Skip ahead about an hour, and it’s on the verge of starting to get dark. Most of the stuff is in the house, and we’re done moving in for the night. My mom has just been paid for the week, but we haven’t gone grocery shopping yet, so there isn’t much to eat in the house. G has just gotten his level 2 driving permit, and he offers to take me and run down the street to get McDonald’s for everybody. My grandma is passed out on the couch, exhausted, and my mom is taking care of my fussing little sister. Although it’s illegal for G to drive without an adult in the car, my mom simply tells us that we should be fine; it’s just down the street, and as long as we’re safe and follow the road laws, we shouldn’t have any sort of trouble.

She gives us her credit card, takes her weed out of the car (a just-in-case measure that, looking back, was invaluable) and we go. G drives steadily, and I keep an extra eye on his speed the whole time just to be sure of it. We were both really nervous at first.

We get to the McDonald’s. We order food for ourselves and my family. We head back home. The sky is orange and bright, a small detail that will also have a decent level of importance later.

I live in a sort of community, it’s difficult to navigate and pretty large. G had a better understanding of how to get back to my house than I did, and this was his first time visiting. We were both worried about getting lost, but we figured if we did, park security (who are NOT officers) could help us. Just as we pulled into the entrance of the place, we see D from earlier, waving us down. G and I shared a look, before he pulled over. D didn’t even get to speak before we noticed red and blue lights behind us, which means now we were pulled over in both senses.

The cop had not even seen D until he looked through our car windows and noticed him on the other side of the vehicle. He swore upon seeing him and berated him for not putting his hands up and announcing himself as soon as the cop pulled us over. D, G, and I are all white. The cop tells us he pulled us over because our headlights weren’t on, and it was too dark for that. Again, the sky was bright orange, and the road and everything alongside it was easily visible.

G had turned 16 about a month ago, and was still getting used to it.

Cop: “How old are you?”

G: “I’m fifteen.”

Cop: “What?? Get out of the car, now. Hands where I can see them!”

Me: “He’s sixteen! He just turned sixteen! He mispoke!”

The officer demands that G show ID, while cuffing him. G tells him his permit is in the cupholder in his wallet. The cop accuses him of lying. I have my hands up where they can be seen, and I tell the officer that his wallet is right there, in plain sight. I don’t move my hands. I ask if the officer wants me to give him the wallet. He screams at me in absolute rage to keep my hands where he can see them, though I still haven’t moved. I complied, for a moment, and then announced, twice, because he acted like he couldn’t hear me

Me: “I’m reaching for my phone, it’s on the dashboard, I’m going to call the owner of this car.”

Cop: “It’s not your car?! This is a stolen vehicle?!”

Me: “No! This is my grandma’s car, we have her permission to drive it! We live in this neighborhood and I’m calling her to come speak to you!”

He pushes G, cuffed, forward, despite not walking forward himself, and then yells at him to stop moving and drags him back, slams him up against the car. I should mention that G, although male, is only about 5′9, and very thin. No muscle on him whatsoever.

At this point, I’m on the phone with my mother. My grandma didn’t pick up. I’m very shakily telling her what’s going on, and she tells me to just wait one moment, she’ll get my grandma up and have her come get us in the U-Haul.

The cop moves G into his vehicle, and D is still standing by my window, muttering variations of the word ‘yikes’.

I get off the phone with my mom, and loudly announce that I’m stepping out of the vehicle and approaching the cop’s car. It was difficult to raise my voice to a yell that he could hear from in his car, but I did, and I kept my hands up. I approached his window, and told him my grandma was on her way. I asked him if he would prefer I stay in my grandma’s car, if I were to just stand where he could see me, or if he would want to cuff me and keep me in his vehicle, too. As much of a snarky smartmouth as I can be, this was all said completely respectfully. My hands stayed up.

The officer told me to, quote, “Get any important shit out of the car and walk home.”

Me: “I’ve just moved here, and I don’t know how to get home. I want to wait here until my grandma arrives. It will just be a minute.”

Cop: “I told you to go. Walk.”

D, from near our car : “I can take you home, and help you carry the food!”

Cop: “You heard him. Go.”

Me: “I don’t know him, and I don’t feel safe walking somewhere I don’t know with a strange guy, can I please just-”

Cop: “I told you to fucking leave, that’s an order! Go! Fucking Go!”

At this point I was near tears, and I looked past the cop at G, who was nodding at me to leave.

When I did as the cop said and I got everything out of the car, he screamed at me again, and drew his gun. I explained that I was just doing what he told me to. He put the gun away.

On the walk back to the house, D took an extended path (which I only know now that I’ve lived in this neighborhood a while) and told me several explicit stories along the way. He made ‘jokes’ about raping me, and, I’m not even fucking kidding, forced me to wear his hoodie. I get that that doesn’t sound sinister, but he made me put everything down, took my phone, took the hoodie I was ALREADY WEARING, and made me put his on. I was fucking terrified, but I couldn’t say no because he had my phone, and he had a knife. I was fucking scared the whole time because for all I knew, he wasn’t even taking me home. He knew this place like the back of his hand, and I had no idea where I was or where I could even run to. For the rest of the 20 minute walk, he continuously made jokes about forcing himself on me, and I had nowhere to go.

When I made it back to my house safe and got my hoodie and phone back, he tried convincing me to let him stay and eat the food we’d gotten. My mom didn’t know any of what he’d said along the way home, but she made him leave. It was about 45 minutes from then until my grandma came back with G. The officer towed the car.

G had a breakdown and called his family, but he stayed the night still. He told me later that (important detail: G is gay, and, although I feel bad saying it, very noticeably so. He fits a lot of stereotypes, ie he has a lisp, dresses semi-nicely, and is somewhat flamboyant) the cop had called him a fag, had called him a dirty queer, had told him that his body cam was off, and that if something happened to him, no one would ever be able to prove it. The cop even had the fucking gall to chat over his radio about the ‘fag’ he’d picked up.

The cop threatened to have G put in jail overnight, or until his father would come to get him. All of this in the ten minutes it took for my grandma to get there.

These are all off the top of my head. I, a white teenager, have never once met a ‘good cop’. These encounters are mild compared to the absolute horror stories about police that I’ve heard. All of these ended up with all of us safe, and all of us living, but they very easily could have gone sour. My heart goes out to anybody with similar or worse experiences, because even though these were small, they were still absolutely fucking terrifying to experience. I can’t imagine what it must feel like to go through worse. Fuck cops. Fuck all of them, because even a ‘good cop’ aka a cop who does the bare minimum (their job) either enables other’s to behave this way, or isn’t even a cop, because they were fired for not letting it slide. ACAB.

Stay safe, everyone, and I’m sorry.

#dumb anecdotes #acab #all cops are bastards #1312 #tw homophobia

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arysafics · 6 years ago

Text

Ruin Your Reputation

Prompt: Frat boy Bellamy convinces his nerdy pre-med girlfriend Clarke to come to a party by promising her semi-public sex.

Rated E, ~2.9k words

Clarke is already in her pyjamas when Bellamy walks into her room just after seven on Friday night. She’s got her hair pulled back into a tight braid, her thick textbook open in front of her on her desk, accompanied by a notebook of perfectly scribbled notes in tiny handwriting, plus her open laptop with a PowerPoint slide with a lot of sciencey terms Bellamy doesn’t recognise up on the screen.

“I take it that you decided ‘no’ on going to the party tonight,” Bellamy says, walking up behind her and putting his hands on her shoulders and a kiss on the top of her head. Clarke puts her hand over his, but she doesn’t look up from her notes.

“I have to study,” she says.

Bellamy drops his hands and moves to sit on her bed, right next to the desk. He grabs the seat of the desk chair and spins it around to face him. Clarke pouts, unimpressed.

“You’re always studying,” Bellamy says, resting his hands on her thighs. “You’re allowed to have fun. You’re in college.”

“College is for learning.”

“And for coming to your boyfriend’s frat party and getting wasted.” He rubs her inner thigh with his thumb over her plaid pyjama pants. “You don’t have to get wasted. I just want you to come so I can show you off. Everyone is starting to think my girlfriend is made up.”

Clarke huffs. “No one thinks that.”

“Come on, baby,” Bellamy says. He’s not too proud to resort to begging. “Please. Just one party, and then I’ll never ask you again.”

Clarke shakes her head. “I don’t know any of your friends. They’ll all think I’m a stuck-up nerd like you did at first.”

“Emori will be there. And anyway, they don’t think that,” Bellamy assures her. “I made sure they don’t think that.”

Clarke frowns, troubled. “You don’t—you don’t talk about our sex life with them, do you?” she whispers.

“No, of course not,” he promises. God, she would hate that. She’s got her image: nerdy, virginal, good girl, and she’s sticking with it.

Bellamy was sceptical when her roommate Emori set them up. Emori knows firsthand the kind of things he likes in the bedroom, and Clarke Griffin seemed like a prude on first meeting. But he found himself mesmerised by her on their first date, in awe of her intelligence, laughing at every dumb joke she told. And then she sucked his cock in the back row of the cinema after dinner and he kind of fell in love. Only later did Emori tell him she’d walked in on Clarke watching porn one night and knew she’d be perfect for him.

“I don’t want to go,” Clarke says. “I really have to study. Maybe next time.”

Bellamy sighs. She’s been saying next time for months now. She’s halfway through her freshman year and hasn’t even been to one party yet. Bellamy is pretty sure he was drunk every night during his freshman year. He parties less now that he’s a senior, but he would really like to make some drunken college memories with his girlfriend before he graduates and has to face the real world.

“Okay,” he says. “Can you take a short break though?” he says, trailing his fingers further up her thigh, until he’s stroking her pussy through her pyjamas. Clarke spreads her legs, nodding eagerly, just like he knew she would. She’s always so desperate for it. “Come and sit on my lap,” Bellamy tells her. “Pants off.”

Clarke surges to her feet and sheds her pyjama pants, so she’s just wearing her oversized t-shirt, which barely covers her shaved pussy. Bellamy runs his hands up her thighs and over her ass as she sinks onto his lap, straddling him.

He’s half hard already, and it doesn’t take him long to get all the way there, when she pulls her t-shirt over her head, revealing her luscious tits to him, and removes the tie from her hair, letting her braid come loose. She doesn’t look so much like a nerdy good girl now. Although, it’s a look Bellamy has become rather fond of in the last few months. But it’s the effortless transformation from nerdy good girl to desperate slut that really gets him.

She grinds against his cock, and Bellamy’s hands skirt her waist to play with her tits. She leans down to kissing him messily, her hair falling around their faces.

“You need a good fucking, don’t you, baby?” Bellamy says. “You’ve been working too hard.”

Clarke nods, kissing him again. He lifts her slightly, then flips her over so she’s lying on her back on the bed, her blonde waves splayed out around her head. Her tits bounce as she hits the bed, a sight Bellamy never tires of seeing.

He positions himself between her raised knees, then sucks the soft skin of her inner thigh between his teeth, knowing it will bruise later. He loves marking her, not that anyone else ever sees the marks except for her. But he knows she’ll look at it tomorrow and get wet all over again thinking about him.

Clarke threads her fingers into his hair, tugging gently, so he’ll move his mouth to where she wants it to be. He chuckles, shifting slightly so his breath comes out just above her clit. He can smell the sweet scent of her arousal, already dripping from her cunt, though he’s barely touched her.

He kisses her folds, then dips his tongue between them, and she tightens her grip on his hair. He finds her clit, running his tongue over it, and then around it. She whimpers, bucking her hips against his face. He slips a hand underneath her ass, edging his finger into her asshole as he licks her cunt, and she moans pathetically.

“Bell,” she pants. He can tell she close from the way her pussy quivers around his tongue, and from the way her breath is coming out short and fast. He gives her clit one last flick of his tongue, and then he pulls away, leaving her right on the brink. The distressed whine that escapes from her mouth as he sits up is music to his ears.

“Why are you stopping?” Clarke asks. She’s still trembling, and she looks so confused. Bellamy smiles as he leans down to kiss her, knowing she’ll be able to taste herself on his tongue.

“I have to go to the party,” Bellamy says. “Murphy will be wondering where I am.”

“You’re going to make me wait until the party’s over?”

“Well,” Bellamy tilts his head. “I probably won’t be up to it after the party. You’ll have to wait until tomorrow.”

Clarke huffs. “You’re punishing me for not coming to your stupid party.”

Bellamy shakes his head. “Come to the party,” he whispers. He kisses her, and as he pulls away, “And I’ll make you come at the party.” He hears her breath hitch, sees her squeeze her legs together, and he knows he’s got her. “Wouldn’t you like that?” he asks, running the back of his index finger up and down her stomach. “Want me to fuck you in a secluded corner where anyone could walk by and see us? Ruin your spotless reputation?”

Clarke sinks her teeth into her bottom lip. She nods. “Okay,” she agrees. “I’ll come to the party. But you better make it worth my while.”

Bellamy grins. “So demanding,” he says. “Show me what you’re going to wear. Want you to dress up for me.”

Clarke normally dresses modestly during the day, wearing nothing particularly tight or low cut, and jeans are her go-to, but he knows she owns things she wears just for him. She goes to her closet now, still naked, and starts rifling through it. She pulls out a black dress and shows it to him, and he nods approvingly. She takes a step towards her underwear drawer.

“No,” Bellamy says. “No panties. No bra.”

Clarke swallows, but he knows she knew he was going to say that. She pulls the dress on over her head, and Bellamy gets up so he can do up her zipper. Clarke turns around, smoothing down her dress, waiting for his approval. Bellamy looks her up and down, admiring the way the dress hugs her curves, dips low at her cleavage. It’s not particularly short, but the skirt is flimsy, and Bellamy knows any light breeze or slight spin will give him the opportunity for a glimpse of her ass.

“Gorgeous,” he tells her.

“Let me put some make-up on and then we can go,” Clarke says.

“You don’t need it,” Bellamy tells her. “You’re beautiful enough without it.”

She rolls her eyes. “Now you want to suck up? Just keep quiet for 5 minutes, will you?”

Bellamy smiles, falling back onto her bed. “Yes, ma’am.”

Clarke is obviously nervous as they walk into the party. She’s clinging to his arm, which he can’t say he hates, but it is unlike her to be so affectionate in public. Behind closed doors he can’t keep her off him. Not that he wants to.

“It’s okay,” he tells her quietly. The house is full of people, no one is even paying attention to them. “My friends will love you, I promise.”

She has briefly met some of them before, and she knows Murphy well enough seeing as her roommate is dating him. But she always avoids hanging out with them, and Bellamy hasn’t wanted to push her, but he does really want his friends to get to know her.

He finds Murphy, along with Emori, Miller, and Raven, outside on the back porch, passing a joint back and forth between them, each sporting a red solo cup, though Murphy appears to be drinking directly from a bottle of cheap whiskey.

“Hey, everyone,” he says, interrupting their giggly conversation. “You guys remember Clarke?”

“Sure,” Emori says. “I live with her. Hey, Clarke, glad you could make it.”

“You scrub up nice,” Murphy smirks.

“Raven, Miller,” Bellamy nods to each of them, reminding Clarke of their names. They both give her a wave.

“I remember,” Clarke says. “Hi, everyone.”

Bellamy takes a seat on the empty lounge chair that they’d dragged outside when they got the money for a new lounge suite in the living room. He pulls Clarke into his lap. His cock presses against her ass, and he hopes she can feel it throbbing for her. She’s not the only one he left hanging earlier.

Murphy offers Bellamy the bottle of whiskey, and Emori offers him the joint, but he declines both. Clarke doesn’t like it when he smokes, weed or otherwise, and it’s really not much of a hardship to give it up for her. He knows she doesn’t care if he drinks, but he wants to make sure he’s not too drunk to blow her mind later, and drinking whiskey straight out of the bottle probably isn’t the best way to avoid that.

He manages to keep his hands off her while they’re in front of his friends, for the most part. He keeps one arm wrapped around her waist, and the other toys with the hem of her dress, wanting to pull it up and expose cunt her in front of everyone, but knowing she would kill him if he did. Just a little longer and he’ll pull her away and give her the orgasm she so desperately wants.

It's probably the worst time to try and get her to integrate with his friends, when they’re both keyed up, and all he can think about his getting his hands on her and his cock inside her. He knows she’s thinking the same. Neither of them are following the conversation, but since his friends are all drunk and high anyway, they’re probably not missing much.

He can feel her squirming in his lap, confirming his suspicions that she’s just thinking about being fucked. He lets his hand slide up from her waist to her breast, rubbing his thumb over her nipple until it grows hard. He trails his lips over her ear. “I need to fuck you,” he whispers.

Clarke nods. She’s trembling. Bellamy sits up, signalling Clarke to stand, and he takes her hand as he stands with her. The rest of his friends look up, though they’d previously been paying him no attention.

“Just going to see what’s happening inside,” he explains.

He leads Clarke inside, can feel the excitement radiating off her. He could just take her to his room, it being his frat house and all. There’s every chance someone could walk in on them in there anyway. But he wants somewhere more public, somewhere with more danger.

There’s a nook just off the hallway, with a little alcove that probably once housed a landline phone. It’s gone unused since Roan graduated and took with him his collection of stolen traffic cones and signs.

Bellamy pulls Clarke into it, and has her against the wall, his mouth on hers, in less than a second.

“Here?” Clarke gasps, as his lips latch onto her neck. His back is to the hallway, so he knows she can look over his shoulder and see anyone who walks past, which probably won’t be many, unless everyone decides to migrate outside.

“Yeah, here,” Bellamy says. “That okay?”

“We’re going to get caught,” Clarke whispers. Bellamy responds by putting his hand up her skirt and cupping her mound. Clarke presses down against his hand, whether intentionally or not, he doesn’t know. Her thighs are slick with her arousal. He knows the thought of someone catching them turns her on, the thought of anyone other than him finding out what she’s really like. He teases her with his fingers, and she buries her head into his shoulder.

“Please, I need you,” she whimpers. “You promised.”

“I know, baby,” Bellamy says. “I’m gonna fuck you right here, don’t you worry.” He undoes his pants quickly, and Clarke pulls up her skirt to reveal her bare cunt to him. “We gotta make it quick,” Bellamy says, pressing a kiss to her temple as he slides his hard cock between her legs.

He grabs her by the thigh and brings her leg up to hook around him, while her arms circle around his neck. He angles his cock towards her entrance, and Clarke wriggles impatiently. He pushes into her, and Clarke releases a tiny whine. God, she always feels so good. Like her pussy was made for him, so tight, so wet, so desperate for him always.

He rocks her against the wall, his thrusts quick and hard. Clarke tightens her grip on him, meeting his thrusts with enthusiasm. With each of her breaths comes a tiny squeak, and Bellamy echoes her with grunts of his own. It’s not half obvious what they’re doing, should anyone walk by. And Clarke is completely covered by him, so no one would see anything they shouldn’t. But they know who he is and they know who his girlfriend is, and should someone catch them in the act she’d no longer be known as a prude.

“Bellamy,” Clarke pants. “Please, I’m almost there. I need to come before someone sees.”

“Can’t have anyone knowing you’re secretly a dirty little slut now, can we?” Bellamy says. He fingers find her clit, cutting off any response Clarke might have been able to prepare. Instead she just lets out a wanton moan, and with the help of his fingers on her clit, she comes on his cock, gasping for air, her walls clenching around him, pulling him over the edge with her.

“I’m coming inside you,” he tells her, and Clarke can only nod her approval, still lost in the bliss of her own orgasm. He shudders against her, filling her cunt with his come just like he knows she likes. They’re both breathing hard as he slips out of her, and he has nothing to clean himself up with so he just has to tuck his cock away and deal with it later.

Clarke straightens, letting her dress fall back down to cover herself, squeezing her legs together to keep his come inside her.

“Still hate parties?” Bellamy asks her.

“Yes.”

Bellamy snorts. He grabs her by the hand and tugs her closer so he can kiss her. “I won’t make you come to another one. But thank you for coming to this one.”

“I guess it wasn’t so bad,” Clarke concedes. “But tomorrow you have to help me study to make up for it.”

Bellamy raises an eyebrow. She knows she never gets any study done when he’s around. It’s pretty much code for fuck me for hours and hours.

“If you insist,” he says. “You want me to take you home now?”

Clarke shakes her head. “I want to try playing beer pong.”

“You want to play beer pong? In that dress? With no bra, no panties, all filled up with my come?”

Clarke nods, biting her lip mischievously. “If this is the only college party I ever come to, I have to make it worthwhile.”

“Okay,” Bellamy agrees. “But I can’t promise I can keep my hands off you. I might end up fucking you over the table in front of everyone.”

Clarke’s breath hitches. “I changed my mind,” she says. “Take me to your room, I need you to fuck me again now. Then we can play beer pong.”

#bellarke #bellarke fanfiction #the 100 #the 100 fanfiction #mine

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