#hes more ready to admit his “bad” emotions when he's little versus when he's big

[spidvrbatz]

Baby Regressor Robin from Teen Titans - Brown Comfort Moodboard

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[mikalara-dracula]

Rainy days with their s/o

ft. Yuma and Subaru

Warning: 18+ content below; don't read if you're a minor.

Yuma:

Well, since he can’t garden that day, he’s quite bored and out of ideas as to what to do.

He’d be kinda grumpy about it, especially if he was planning to plant something new that day.

“Man, out of all days it has to rain today.”

“You say that every time it rains. It’s mother nature’s way of doing things. You can’t change it.”

“Tch! What does she know?!”

He’d eventually get over the fact that he can’t garden and would sit down and watch a little TV with you, however, he’s always judging everything that’s on.

For example, if a movie or show is on and he doesn’t really like it, he’ll criticize the characters he finds stupid.

“That guy’s an idiot. That’s not how you get a girl.”

“Oh, and I suppose you know?”

“How do you think I got you, little pig.” He’d grin, making you hit him playfully.

On days like this, he tends to get clingy because he has nothing else to do.

Basically, without his garden he’s lost on what to do and will constantly tease and bother you throughout the day.

For example, since it’s rainy outside, you figured you’d make yourself a nice hot chocolate since it corresponded well with the weather.

However, as you were drinking it in the kitchen, he came in and decided to bother you about what you were doing.

“What are you drinking, little pig?”

“A hot chocolate.” You’d smile.

“Oh good, maybe you’ll gain a little and it’ll go where I want it most.” He’d grin while reaching behind to clutch your ass xDD.

“Yuma! Is that all you care about?!”

“Hey, this little pig’s ass belongs to me, so I get to decide how big I want it.”

If you two are cuddling on the couch, he absolutely refuses to let you go. He literally treats you as if you’re his body pillow.

“Yuma, let me go.”

“Fight your way out of it, little pig.” He’d grin, finding your struggle funny.

Since there isn’t much to do on days like this, he might allow you to style his hair any way you want and might even do yours.

Believe it or not, he's an expert at braiding. His favorite style is a fishtail braid and he thinks it looks beautiful on you.

His talent for braiding is so versed that even his brothers might comment as to how pretty it looks on you.

"It looks so . . . nice, Y/N." Azusa would comment.

"Wow little maso-kitty, it looks great on you. Did Yuma do that?" Kou would add.

"As expected, Yuma's known for such styles. You display it well." Ruki would admit.

“Yeah, only the best for my little pig.” Yuma would smirk, a subtle boast in his tone, causing you to blush at his statement.

He likes giving you piggy back rides throughout the house, but he’ll pretend to drop you just to scare you because he’s an asshole.

With all this boredom, Yuma might even get into asking you a few dirty riddles.

"Hey little pig, what's six inches long, goes in your mouth and is more fun if it vibrates?"

"Yuma!"

"Damn, little pig, I didn't know you could be so dirty-minded. I'm just talking about a toothbrush."

"Well it certainly didn't sound that way."

"My god! How could you think such a thing?” He said, acting oh-so innocent, a smirk soon appearing on his face, showing his true colors. “Oh, I get it, you wanted it to be something else."

“What are you-,”

“C’mere, little pig.” He’d say, tackling and pinning you to a nearby couch, starting to tickle you.

"No! Stop!'' You'd squeal, Yuma still continuing to tickle you as you laughed beneath him.

At one point he might grow fed up with the rain and decide to go outside anyways.

"Y’know what, this is stupid. C'mon, little pig. We're not gonna let a little rain tell us what to do." He’d say, taking you by your wrist and dragging you behind him.

"Yuma, wai-,"

He’d continue running and drag you outside in the pouring rain, making you get soaking wet as he picks you up into his arms and spins you around, his lips melding onto yours as he’d hungrily kiss you. He’d soon pull away and put you down, a scowl on your face due to him getting you drenched in mother nature’s tears.

“Yuma! You got me all wet!”

"Damn, I tried to make this romantic and you're complaining about getting wet?"

You’d sigh, “Getting romantic doesn’t mean getting wet!”

“Oh really?” He’d smirk. “Then how come my little pig gets wet every time I-,”

“Shut up!” You’d say, hitting him playfully, causing him to laugh.

Subaru:

Doesn’t care if it’s rainy or not since he doesn’t really go out.

However, if it’s raining at night time and he wants to go in the rose garden, he might be a little irritated about it.

And since he doesn’t have any hobbies, this is a little hard on him.

Plus, since he’s a tsundere, he'll act pretty annoyed in general, even going down to being a total ass.

Compared to Yuma, he gets clingy in a different way--that is, he secretly hopes that you’ll spend time with him since he can’t go out to the garden.

If you’re busy doing your own stuff tho, he’ll attempt to get involved but will act like he’s disinterested in doing so.

But it’s not like you mind him getting involved--that is, if he’s being genuine.

For example, you were once sitting down at the table working on your homework late at night, finishing up the last thing for your assignment when he walked in and came up behind you.

He placed his head in the crook of your neck, being curious about what you were doing as his gaze traveled to the assignment you were working on.

“What are you doing?”

“Homework.” You’d answer.

“Tch! What a pain.”

“It’s not so bad, I’m almost done.”

“Why don’t you just take a break?”

“Subaru, there’s really no point since I’m close to finishing.” You’d say going back to your work, but of course, the white-haired vampire had to persist.

He lifted up his face from the crook of your neck and took notice of your exposed bra strap. A smirk grew on his face and being the tease that he is, he’d take his fingers and use them to pull on it and have smack against your skin just to annoy you and throw you off guard.

“What the hell?”

“It’s not my fault it was right there, you should hide it better next time.” He’d smirk.

If the atmosphere is quiet and he sees you’re busy but doesn’t want to bother you, he’ll just watch what you’re doing whilst you’re busy working and shuffling around doing your stuff. With watching the way your body moves and the look of concentration on your face, it builds up a lot of sexual tension as he'd stand by with his arms crossed in hopes that something intimate happens or is initiated.

Oh the things this bby car imagines xDD.

He’ll also try to get involved in other things you’d be doing as well, such as crafts.

After finishing your homework, you decided to do something a bit more productive, so you decided to go work on a painting you had been working on. You’d get pretty focused and concentrated, that is until Subaru came up behind you and decided to intervene.

“What are you up to now?”

“Painting.”

“Tch! Lame.”

He’d just continue to stand there, his figure still looming over yours. An idea soon hit you. You knew he was bored, so you decided to make painting time a little more fun.

Turning to him, you’d ask, “Hey, why don’t you help.”

“Huh?”

“Help me with the painting.”

“Do I look like Picasso to you?” He’d sarcastically remark.

“Subaru, it doesn’t matter what it looks like in the end. What matters is the fun you have when painting.”

“Tch! That’s stupid.” He’d retort.

“Alright, then. Suit yourself.”

Since he didn’t want to, you turned around and began painting again.

Deep down, Subaru secretly found your offer to be sweet since he really didn’t mind helping and wanted to spend time with you, but because he has a hard time expressing his emotions through his tough exterior, it always came off as if he didn’t care.

The white-haired vampire sighed, feeling torn between the feeling of wanting to do something memorable with you versus him getting caught doing something crafty by one of his brothers, but because you were more important, he decided to help.

“Alright, where do you want me to begin?” He’d say picking up a brush and sitting down next to you.

Taken back by his sudden decision, you’d say. “Oh, um, you can start over here.” You’d say, pointing to a blank space on the canvas. “Just paint it blue for now and then I’ll tell you what to do from there.”

He said nothing and began to do what you asked him, both of you working hard on the masterpiece.

While working, you’d occasionally sneak a few glances at him, seeing how his progress was going.

You honestly had to admit how attractive Subaru looked when he was concentrated on something, the way his eyes angled themselves as they narrowed in on the area he was working on, a few stray locks being in his face, his lips being ajar and lurid in the lighting as he continued to work.

To be honest, you definitely had to ask him to paint more often with you.

He definitely looked busy, an idea striking you again but in a more playful aspect. Since he looked so concentrated, you dipped your finger into the paint and smeared some on his cheek.

“Hey! What the hell?!”

You honestly couldn’t help but laugh, leading him to grin, “Oh, you think that’s funny? Then how about this?”

He’d be quick to dip multiple fingers in the paint and smear it all over your face. Accepting his challenge, you were quick to dip your hand in paint and smear it all over his face as payback, but this was far from over.

This ended up becoming an entire paint war, you and Subaru’s laughter echoing as you chased each other about the room and continued to smear and splatter paint on each other, both of you becoming a colored mess as the walls became vandalized in the process.

“I’m gonna get you, Y/N. You’re gonna look like a rainbow by the time this is over.” He’d grin, his hand fully loaded with paint being ready to rub it on you.

“Catch me if you can!” You’d tease sticking your tongue out, whilst running away from him.

It was all fun and games however, until Reiji came in and saw the mess, leading him to scold you two.

“What is the meaning of this?”

You both would be quick to blame it on each other as you’d talk over each other in unison, but Reiji didn’t care to hear excuses.

“Please see to it that this is cleaned up, otherwise I’ll have to discipline the two of you thoroughly.” He’d say, quickly taking his leave as you both laughed about what happened, soon cleaning it up together.

On rainy nights, he might show a bit of a soft side.

However, bear in mind that he will be quick to lean back into his tsundere side if he thinks the moment is getting too soft.

Likes to lay in his coffin with you if you both want to relax. He’ll act annoyed the entire time due to him being a tsundere, but secretly, he loves the fact that you’re next to him.

Likes to have you sit in his lap, while you’re reading, having a blanket draped over the both of you, whilst he’d rest his face in the crook of your neck. He honestly loves being so close to you, but he’d never admit it.

Here, he might take the opportunity to either place a soft kiss on your neck or bite your shoulder if he’s feeling thirsty.

He likes to cuddle and lay on top of you, but won't let you leave to do anything else because he's so clingy.

"Subaru, let me go."

"Not a chance."

When he’s not being soft, you two are bound to bicker about the stupidest things--like heights, for example, leading him to become a total mess.

"You're not taller than me, Y/N. We've been over this."

"Oh no?" You’d sass, stepping onto his coffin, being slightly taller than him now. "How about now?"

He scoffed, a grin appearing on his face as he’d playfully grab you and pin you onto a nearby wall, giving you the greediest and lustful kisses as you both kept laughing in unison.

Might let you style his hair, such as putting it up into a ponytail or style it in some other way.

You once put bows in his hair and he was so annoyed by it at first, but he eventually started to find it funny and began laughing with you, but that was all until Laito came in and took a picture of him with his new style.

“Fufu~, love the new look, Subaru. I’ve gotta say it suits you.”

“Why you!” He’d hiss, quickly running after him to make him delete the photo and beat the living crap out of him for doing that and seeing him in such a state.

On rainy nights, be prepared for a lot of fun and games because apart from paint wars, Subaru can take things to a whole new level.

Since it was raining and you couldn’t go anywhere, you decided to try out a new makeup style.

And of course, he’d have to get into your business and tell you he finds it stupid.

"Tch! Why do girls even wear that shit?!"

"Oh shut up, you boys like it. Don't lie.”

“Whatever.” He’d retort, saying nothing else.

You sighed knowing he was bored, so you asked the unthinkable once again to help him cope with not being able to go out because of the rain.

“Do you want help?”

“Help? With what?”

“With this new makeup style.”

“Tch! Seriously?”

“All you have to do is add the eyeshadow and lipstick. I’m not asking you to do anything crazy.”

Sighing and knowing it was better than doing nothing, he’d say, “Fine.”

He’d turn you to him so he could have better access to your face to apply the makeup.

“Just don't make me look like a clown.” You’d warn closing your eyes, allowing Subaru to put on the eyeshadow.

This is when he was struck with a mischievous idea, an infamous smirk twisting on his lips as he applied the makeup to your face.

And after what seemed like quite some time, he finally finished.

“Okay, it’s done.”

You’d sigh, “Finally, I can’t wait to see it. I’m sure it looks amazing.”

“You bet it does.” He’d mutter under his breath, it not being loud enough for you to hear.

Opening your eyes, you looked at your reflection in the mirror and screamed. The makeup looked so bad, maybe worse than a clown.

"Subaru!"

“Ha! What a face!” He’d scoff.

“Ass!” You’d hiss, chasing him around the room as he’d laugh.

Now because you couldn’t let him get away with what he did, as payback you decided to draw a mustache on him while he was sleeping.

When he woke up and saw his reflection in the mirror he grew shocked, and instantly knew it was you who had done it.

(Ik vampires typically can’t see their reflection in a mirror, but I’m not sure about DL here, but let’s just assume that he can considering it hasn’t been mentioned (maybe I’m wrong here??); and also because Reiji implied that some human-made vulnerabilities don’t apply to them, so this might not).

“Y/N!”

“Payback's a bitch isn't it?” You’d giggle, standing a few feet away from him.

“Now, you're gonna get it!” He’d say, chasing you around to no end, only leaving you to laugh as he kept running after you.

[obeymeluv]

Signs they Love You

Back for my 1 post a week to prove school hasn’t totally killed me! When I get a semester break, I’ll post more often. In the mean time, feel free to leave me chats or PMs for stuff you want to see! :) Something nice and sappy for an okay Saturday

These turned out really long so I only did Lucifer, Mammon, Levi, and Satan. I have to get back to studying :/. Maybe I’ll have part 2 next week?

Lucifer

You wouldn’t be able to notice it because his pride wouldn’t allow you to. One of the brothers (or, to Lucifer’s extreme mortification, Lord Diavolo) would have to tell you

He’s not sure if it’s just the appreciation of you not being as totally chaotic as his brothers or genuine human naivete that has somehow worn off on him, but he loves you

Will be outed by sappy, soft stares that last 2 seconds too long.

Asmo and Satan are the first to notice and he LOATHES that

If he’s tasked with waking you up that morning, his knock will be firm but his voice will be gentle. Almost persuasive or commiserating

If you’re feeling overwhelmed by school workload, he may have a private conference with the teacher and grant you a minor extension. Will you know it was him? No. Is he happy to see you brighten up and refill with hope just a bit? Definitely. Is it worth the teasing from Lord Diavolo? ...Sure.

If he responds to texts in the wee hours of the morning when he’s still pouring over paperwork, he likes you.

Anyone who knows him can see how his eyes soften when someone else talks about you. There’s a fond slowness to his actions, how he glides his hand imperceptibly over his chest as if to feel where that emotion is coming from. Boy is whipped.

Should Lord Diavolo invite him out for a meeting, he will bring you back something small. Something he thought you’d like. Beel is upset. Levi yells “SIMP!” from the second floor and prepares for Armageddon.

Actually reminds you about assignments if you’re not already up on it yourself. Your success is his joy.

Is very keen on if/when you burn the candle too long and has a sixth sense for bad sleeping habits. Will put you on a stricter schedule for your own health

It may take almost all of the brothers to do it (or just help from Diavolo) but if he gets drunk on Demonus you’re getting a whole BOOK about why he likes you. He almost charms your memory away but everyone practically dog-piles on him not to because he needs to deal with his feelings.

You’re the only one he won’t chase out of his study when he’s doing paperwork. He’ll even set up a little fire if you like the fireplace.

How he confesses: tries to take you on a fancy date to Ristorante Six. Does not know that Lord Diavolo and Barbatos know about this (damn time-travelling butler!) and basically crash the date just to encourage him. Just long enough to encourage him.

Kind of an, “So you chose this idea, Lucifer? Admirable! I’m sure your date will be amazing! Enjoy your evening!” as Diavolo walks back to his table.

Does Lucifer deny it? Look and see how red his face is. If you’re really not sure, ask Diavolo. He will gladly yell, “I cannot lie!” across the restaurant.

Mammon

For all his talk, when he really, really decides he likes you, he doesn’t know what to say.

He can console himself with how obvious it is and how you made the best choice, but he has to show it! What to do?

Mammon’s kind of confused about it because he doesn’t really change how he behaves. You didn’t catch on already?! C’mon, human!

What, does he have to spell it out for you? Do an interview with Majolish?

His first tactic is to just be around you. Be subtle, and maybe cuddle a bit more than usual. Things to show he’s kittenish and at your mercy. Comfortable with you.

You don’t seem to be getting the hint so he throws the net a little wider by trying to find things you like or that you’ve been talking about. They mysteriously show up at your door.

It sends the others on a gossip train about who your admire could be and when they list off everyone BUT him, he wants to slam his head on the table.

Feeling tired? Coffee! Backpack heavy? Silly human, the BEST man can help you with that, OBVIOUSLY! Mammon jumps at the chance to do any little thing for you because he cares. His actions always speak louder than words.

Feeling kind of defeated and embarrassed, Mammon will go talk to the flock of crows that meander around the House of Lamentation’s yard when he really needs them.

For the next few days you’re accosted in the nicest way, birds chirping at you and dropping off various shiny things

You collect them, finally showing them to Mammon and he’s embarrassed that his representative animal has taken to courting you on his behalf.

He calls them to him, embarrassed and ready to rant or fall into the ground never to be seen again, when they start talking. Repeating all the things he’s practiced saying.

“Hey baby,”, “Hey human,” “Love you!”, “Silly! Silly!”, “Dummy, no, dummy!”, “My human.”

It’s broken and confusing, six or seven bird children cawing in your face and bobbing, but you get it.  

Levi

Levi’s not the best at expressing himself but it counts, right? As much as he hates to admit he’s some kind of shy tsundere, you know what that is, right? He doesn’t have to say it?

Yes. Yes he does. His brothers are getting too chummy with you and you don’t understand his signals. Time for Plan B.

If you get invited to stand in line for a midnight release, he hopes you take it. Then it’s just you two hanging out in line? What’s this? He brought snacks? Totally not for the two of you BUT you an have some if you’re hungry. It’s whatever

When he’s not doing boss raids and playing with online friends, he’ll ask if you want to play something with him. A Player 1 needs a Player 2, you know?

I headcanon that Levi knows how to play some unusual instruments like the kalimba or a real ocarina. I could see him making you a song on one of those. Or just playing it because you inspire him. He’s very good with a harp and will play it when he’s in the mood.

Boy also likes to draw and paint. Especially loves watercolors. Would it be weird if he gave you a painting of you as a mermaid? Just you and the ocean. Beautiful.

Was there a really cute plush or knickknack you liked? Levi has his ways, regardless of how rare or limited edition it is. It will be yours. 

He has a hard time understanding a passing comment of interest versus a genuine want because he genuinely wants everything he’s interested in, so if you hear a whisper about him almost securing something, stop and look it up. Make sure it’s not super expensive!!

Probably outed by Belphegor, who feels like Levi’s broadcasting all of his stress, frustration, and hope through his dreams. (”His dreams are weird. Just different ways of asking them out, and if he messes up it restarts like a simulation. My brain hurts.” he says to Beel)

 You’re allowed to come into his super-restricted bedroom haven when everything’s too much. It’s very exclusive since the Mammon incident. Be happy.

Might go swimming in his big tank and pick a seashell or rock to make a necklace out of. He hopes you like it.

If he’s not outed by Belphie, some of his online friends made a game demo they wanted him to try. They specified it was two player so he asked you to join in. While he’s in the middle of bragging about how he knows people, knows developers, he totally misses the dating-sim like dialogue and the big reveal.

Doesn’t really kick in until he realize the characters look like you two. You’re busy saying ‘Yes’ to “Do you like me?” as Levi absolutely threatens to rip them apart six ways to Sunday. Almost in full demon mode, too.

Everything falls out of his brain and quiets in his throat when he realizes the characters are kissing and ‘THEY SAID YES!’ flashes on the screen.

“Y-You like me?”

“Yep.”

It was that easy all along. Levi thinks he’s going to faint.  

Satan

Becomes aware of it pretty quick but ignores it for a looong time

Is it rude or foolish of him to assume you would also like him back?

Run away into books. A solid plan. If you don’t think about it, it’s not an issue

Oh, but it is an issue when you fall asleep after a mutual day of reading, forced in by bad weather. He finds his heart fluttering in a painful squeeze as he quietly whispers all the things he dare not say when you’re awake

It’s nervous poetry, and it’s beautiful

Satan tries to get himself back on track, to focus on reading, and he gets frustrated when he’s stuck on the same page almost an hour later

When you’re on the brain he just can’t do anything else

How does one show their affection? He’s swimming in books for a new reason now, as voracious as ever

He brews you a pot of Melancholy Coffee and is a bit disappointed you don’t know the meaning behind the bitterness. Wants to break the pot when Lucifer jokes about how it tastes exceptionally bitter to him as well.

Okay, so coffee didn’t work. What else do people do when they show their affections?

Asmo suggests a ‘not a date’ date and Satan sighs inside. Sounds like a lot of work and effort. It’s not that you’re not worth it, but he has a feeling that everyone will know and look at him the whole time.

Tries anyways. You guys go to a beautiful nature conservatory and take a tour of the plants and some indigenous animals

You’re starting to realize it now, he can tell. Satan tries to answer your question without saying it while you’re at school. You walk together, he offers to carry some of your books, and always requests that he be your project partner

Nearly there. If there was a single defining moment for him, he’d want it to be classic. He shows up at your door with a rose and asks you to go on a moonlit walk.

Mammon’s poking fun about how cheesy and cliche it is, Asmo’s gearing up to shut Mammon’s stupid mouth, and Satan just whisks you out the door with an aggravated sigh.

No matter what side of the house you’re on, Asmo throws up the biggest, gaudiest handmade sign that’s like ‘CUTEST COUPLE! 10/10!’

[johnkrrasinski]

dwindling, mercurial high

full masterlist

Pairings: Andy Barber x female!reader 

Word count: 2,733

Warning: SMUT!!! infidelity/cheating, age gap, unprotected sex, dirty talk, angst, lots of angst. (MUST BE 18+) 

Summary: based on the song ‘illicit affairs’ by taylor swift. things changed between you and andy, the man you’d been crushing on for the longest time, after you returned home from college. what was born from a single glance & stolen stares turned into a secret addiction, something neither of you could get sober from. 

a/n: the idea piqued my imagination after watching taylor’s folklore long pond studio session and i wondered what it’d be like to be the third person instead of the cheated one, thus this angsty fic was born. reblog & feedback are always appreciated. 

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

You closed your eyes as your back hit the wall repeatedly, you held onto him as tight as possible as you moaned in his ear. The bristle of his beard tickled your neck as he nipped your sensitive spot, causing your head to spin. The coil in your abdomen tightened, so did your legs around his waist, and you clenched around him, pushing him to thrust harder into you, chasing your orgasms. Your wailings grew louder and you cried out his name like prayer as his pace become sloppier.

Time became hazy as you plummeted into bliss while he continued to impale you, prolonging your release as well. You wanted the moment to last as long as possible as you presented your body as a vessel for him to obtain pleasure, the kind that he couldn’t get at home from his lovely wife. You didn’t mind that it took him longer to reach his peak, the comforting feeling of him being inside you was like cozying up to your favourite knit sweater and a cup of hot chocolate whilst it was raining outside.

But rains don’t last forever, and the sun was always around the corner, lurking to appear and scorch the planet once more, waking everyone up out of their comfortable place. And that’s what it was like being with Andy.

He groaned as he released deep inside you, resting his face on your shoulder while trying to catch his breath. He kissed you on the lips, claiming your mouth as you ran your fingers through his hair until he needed air. But you didn’t, because he was the air that you needed. Then he set you on your feet gently and he began putting on his clothes. “It’s stopped coming down, I should head back now, Laurie’s going to come home soon and I told her that I’d be working from home today. It’d be suspicious if I left the house without telling her.”

You nodded, “…okay.” But it wasn’t okay, how much longer were you going to have these clandestine meetings? How could you tell him that you wanted him to stay and hold you close just for once?

He slipped his feet into his shoes and untied the lace. You leaned on your hands against your study desk and watched his flushed state longingly as if you were trying to speak with your gaze and you wanted him to get the message because words would hurt both of you. He put on his coat and swung the hood over his head then stood before you, “are you okay, kid?”

No, how could you even ask me that? “Yeah.” He always asked the same question after every time you both made love but never once did you tell him the truth and he believed you. He kissed you on the forehead and there he goes, leaving you with your tears and fury once more without a single weight in his heart.

How did you end up here? It began last summer after you came back home from college. You were going to work in your father’s law firm once you finished law school and obtained your degree. Your father was a lawyer and had a good friendship with the Barbers since you were little. You even watched Jacob being born when Laurie went into labour. Besides living across from each other and worked in the same field, you were like a big sister to Jacob too. He was always a shy, introverted kid who didn’t make friends easily so Andy truly cherished your companion for his son.

You were always happy being a big sister figure to Jacob, you were both the only children so it was easy to bond over that. But what you’d never admit out loud, was also the fact that yous secretly had a crush on Jacob’s dad. What’s not to swoon over? Andy was extremely good looking, a good father and a loving husband. He was a top lawyer, courteous, soft-spoken and always treated you kindly whenever you came over.

It affected your dating life in high school because, despite all the boys asking you out, you never said yes to them. Because there was only one man that you wanted and you couldn’t have him. Even in college, you tried to forget him and seek for someone else, but even college boys couldn’t live up to Andy.

Three years went by and you finally returned home and were ready to start your career as a lawyer. Law and crimes always fascinated you because you believed that justice wasn’t as simple as black or white, or the good guy versus the bad guy so it came naturally for you to follow your father’s footsteps.

Your father invited the Barbers over for dinner to celebrate your homecoming. Laurie asked you about the college life and teased if you might’ve had dated a few boys and you nervously refuted the question by telling her that you were too busy with studying. Andy sat across you and you tried so hard not to make eye contact with him but you couldn’t fight the urge and you swore you saw him glance at you once or twice and he’d quickly look away once you caught him.

One afternoon, a couple of days after the dinner, when your father was at the court, and your mother was at her boutique, you decided to come over to the Barbers’ house. Jacob texted you earlier about his Physics homework and asked for your help on doing it. You were going to start working at the firm on Monday so you had plenty of spare time at home, doing whatever you wished for. You were bored, you had been reading books and watching Netflix all day so you decided to spend time helping Jacob with his homework.

You knocked on the door and texted him, “I’m outside.” You were a little early than the agreed time so Andy opened the door instead of the person you expected.

“Mr. Barber, hi! Is Jacob home yet?” You tried your best to keep your composure.

“No, he said he was staying for Math. He didn’t tell you?”

“Uh, he must’ve forgotten. He asked me earlier to help him with his homework and I thought I could come by early to hang out, but it’s fine, I’ll just come back later. Thanks, Mr. Barber.”

“You could come inside and wait for Jacob here if you want?” He offered.

“Um, are you sure, Mr. Barber? I don’t wanna be a bother.”

“No, please, Laurie hasn’t come home yet, and I’d appreciate the company. And just call me Andy.”

“Okay, yeah, sure. I’ve got no one to talk to at home yet, anyway. Except for my cat who only comes to me when she’s hungry.”

He chuckled at the joke as he closed the door behind you. “You want anything to drink?”

“Coffee would be nice, thank you Mr. Barber.”

He gave you a look at the nickname. “Sorry, I meant, Andy.”

“You’ve really grown since the last time I saw you, ____. You’ve even gotten good-looking.” He nonchalantly said whilst he was making your coffee. “Milk?”

“Huh?” your heart was beating fast at his flattering words. “Do you want some milk in your coffee?”

“Yes, please.” You gulped, mentally screaming at yourself to keep it together. “Are you saying that I was an ugly duckling, Andy?”

He chuckled, “no, what I meant was, your appearance definitely changed and I like it.” He served the coffee on the dining table where he laid a bunch of papers and a laptop and you tried to maintain your distance despite every cell in your body was begging for you to sit closer to him.

You hoped he couldn’t hear the way your breath hitched so you drank your coffee with shaky hands. He asked you about college or shared some advice in becoming a young lawyer. He also caught you up with stories that you missed while you were away. How he found out Jacob was bullied by this kid in his school and how he and Laurie had been arguing a lot lately.

“I’m sorry about that, Andy. But you two will work it out, what marriage doesn’t have its disputes, right? If you both had made it this far, I’m sure you can make it for many more years.”

“Thanks, ____. Be sure to keep that in mind if a guy starts a quarrel with you, okay?” He sipped his own coffee.

“I’ll have to find a guy first, I guess.”

“Are you not seeing anyone?” He gave you a quizzical look.

“No, just haven’t found the time, I guess.”

“Oh, c’mon. You’re an intelligent and attractive young woman. You should go out and explore.”

“And what if I couldn’t find one that I want, Andy?” You stirred your coffee, unable to look him in the eye.

“What do you want, ____?” He inched his face closer to you, making it hard to breathe. His ocean blue eyes bored into yours, with the kind of look that you never saw before. In this proximity, you could see how his pupils had dilated, filling the rim with darkness lust. And you didn’t question his intentions or what he was thinking but at that moment, you had never wanted him more. And you needed him. You needed him to grant your heart’s greatest desire. Him.

“You,” you voice was barely a whisper. “I want… You.”

“Say it, say it louder.”

“I want you, Andy. I’ve wanted you forever.”

Then as if the time had frozen, he slammed his lips onto yours, nearly causing your chair to fall back if only he didn’t catch you. Andy grabbed your face and kissed you with a burning passion. You shut your eyes, reeling from the swirling emotions in your stomach. It wasn’t butterflies but the whole damn zoo. Andy licked your bottom lip and you parted your mouth for him, allowing his tongue to enter and tangle itself with yours.

You whimpered and you felt Andy smirked at the way your body reacted to him. Andy then stood up and lifted you onto the table, and he slightly pulled your hair back, exposing your neck to him. He began trailing kisses there and his right hand roamed around your body until it reached the hem of your off-the-shoulder top and it travelled to your breast and he toyed with it, pinching the nipple and fondle with the globe.

“Andy…” taking your whimpers as a green light, he moved his hand down to the zipper of your jeans, fumbled with the buttons and he pulled them down just enough for his hand to caress your womanhood. Blood rushed to your cheeks when he felt your arousal. He shoved the G-string aside, allowing his fingers to stroke you.

“If I knew how much you wanted me, I would’ve made a move sooner, baby.”

The coalescence of his voice, his plump lips and his hands touching you all over nearly made you forgot where you were until the act was interrupted by Jacob’s voice from the door, “Dad, I’m home!” Andy quickly stopped his assault on you and let you go. You stood on shaky legs as you tried to smooth over your rumpled top and zip up your jeans.

Luckily, when Jacob found you both in the kitchen, he didn’t suspect anything and you followed him to his room, walking away from Andy as if nothing even happened. And that was the beginning of your doomed affair.

His infidelity carried on for months and none of you had found the strength to break it off. You knew it was wrong in so many ways. You always considered The Barbers as your second family despite your latent feelings for Andy. You’d be letting down so many people if they found out about this affair. Each time you both ran off to find escapism in a secluded place, you were consumed by guilt. Every time you told yourself that you can always stop, that he can always stop, you were choked with words. The desire has rooted itself way too deep and none of you could go back now.

It started in your room and once he’d grown weary of the atmosphere, he’d take you to a motel a little outside of town where nobody really knew who you were and it has now taken you to an empty parking lot. Andy laid on the reclined shotgun seat with his clothes off and his pants around his ankles. You leaned your hand on the window as his cock stretched you open from under.

He loved the way your breasts jiggled with each thrust. You had your shirt lifted just enough to display your breasts for him while your shorts and underwear were thrown off to the backseat. His cock was hitting your G-spot repeatedly, creating tantalizing friction. You writhed above him, screaming his name as loud as you possibly could with your mind disarrayed from his thrusts. He had both of his hands gripping your hips solidly, controlling your move as you rode him.

“After all the time I’ve fucked you, you’re still so tight,” He groaned. He moved one of his hands to breast, pinching the nipple and you mewled from the pleasurable sting. He slid his hand up to your throat, cutting off your airway, suffocating you. Your whimpers your muted but it didn’t stop you from moving up and down on him. His other hand slid under your body, he toyed with your wetness and rubbed your clit, causing you to clench around him. “You gonna cum all over my fat cock, baby?”

His filthy words never failed to arouse you. If anyone had told fifteen years old you that the man you had such admired and respect, though from afar, had a foul mouth during sex, you would’ve told them to piss off because they had no idea what the hell were they talking about, but now you had an explicit, front-row seat view of it, you couldn’t look at him any other way.

The way his cock rutted into you and the way his digits worked you over and over again, while his massive hand made you struggle for air, sent your body into overdrive and you cried out his name as if it was your salvation. Your brain was clouded with ecstasy as he continued to ram into you, chasing his own release.

You lost the power to straddle him and collapsed on top of him. Andy’s hands travelled back into your hips, locking you in place as you were pliable with your prolonged orgasm. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum too, baby.”

Then Andy emptied his seed into you, filling you up with his load, and he groaned out loud in your ear. You both tried to abate your breathing while he was still sheathed inside you. The closeness felt intimate and comforting and somehow it felt like you were committing treachery. Your limbs were intertwined and you didn’t wanna untangle yourself from him because you knew if you did, he’d drive you home and take the less travelled by road and that would be it.

There was no post-sex cuddling or aftercare. There was no murmuring soft words under a duvet and exchanging tender kisses while basking in the afterglow with him. Because that’s all this was, an illicit affair. All there was after a steamy rendezvous were quick showers to wash off traces of each other as if you didn’t even exist and a spontaneously fabricated tale so the other person wouldn’t know where the other one had truly been.

You wanted to throw things at him and scream, don’t you fucking call me kid or baby, I’m neither of those things. You wanted to hate him for the godforsaken mess he’d turned you into, but you couldn’t. Because he had shown you colours you couldn’t see with anyone else and you couldn’t erase the secret language he taught you from your mind despite the idiotic fool that he made you.

And no matter how many times you witnessed him kissing his wife like a loving spouse would and how long he made you wait for a call, you knew damn well that you’d do it all over again for him in a heartbeat.

[itjazzbicch]

In Reality

Pairing: “Platinum” Max Caster x Fem Reader  

Summary: On television, Max Caster and the reader are enemies, but behind the scenes, they are actually the best of friends and whenever Max and the reader are in a mixed trios match, on the opposite teams, Max's tries to do his signature rap, but he can't do it to the reader, instead, professing his feelings...

Warnings:  SMUT! (18+ ONLY)

Requested by:  Anon (Whoever you are, I hope you enjoy!)

Word Count:  3364

Tag List: @demonqueen29​ @jessiebean00​ @new-zealand-chic​ @crowleysqueenofhell​ @justamess44​ @thatpanpal​ @hungmanhorsecarriage​ @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch​  @linziland13​ @yungbludjazz360​  

I DO NOT OWN THIS GIF

"Dude, you're wrestling the Sydal brothers! You have to make some kind of yoga joke!" I giggled, helping my best friend, Max Caster write a part of his rap for his match tonight and this one had me very intrigued.

Max and I were enemies on television but behind the scenes, we were the closest duo back there! We were travel buddies, we worked out together, supported each other's hobbies outside of wrestling. We were the best of friends, without a doubt.

I wasn't sure if Max had begun to work on my part of the rap because tonight the match up was:

The Acclaimed and Britt Baker (weird combo in my opinion, but it made sense since she was my rival) versus Matt & Mike Sydal and myself.

"You're right! Definitely gotta get that in there," Max laughed with me, beginning to jot some things down.

"So, what are you going to say about me?" I asked curiously, a smile on my face because I wasn't trying to laugh.

"Now, that's a secret," Max smirked, smiling back at me.

"You seriously can't even tell me a line?" I groaned, seriously wanting to know, but he wasn't budging, shaking his head no.

"Our match is up next! You'll know soon," Max protested and I just gave up, rolling my eyes but laughing:

"Alright! Just take it easy on me!"

"Can't make any promises!" Max laughed, watching me when I began to walk away.

Our match was up next and I was actually honored to wrestling with Matt and Mike. They were veterans and legendary. Our wrestling styles were also very similar, so that made it even more exciting. They were already waiting for me whenever I got to the guerrilla and Matt welcomed me with a smile, saying:

"You ready for the night?"

"Always ready," I smiled, but growing silent whenever I heard Mike say:

"I heard you over there with your buddy, Max. I hope he doesn't try and roast you too bad, tonight."

We all actually laughed and Matt whispered:

"I already know what to expect from him so, I'm prepared."

"So am I," I sighed, "Honestly, we joke around a lot. If he didn't roast me, I'd actually be surprised."

While I was finishing my sentence, Matt's music hit and Mike when up the stairs, Matt following along when he said to me:

"See ya out there!"

I made my entrance like normal, the fans always ate it up and next was Britt, damn it was annoying. It didn't take long though for me to get excited, hearing the beat drop for Max's music.

"Yo, yo, yo!" Max yelled while walking through the tunnel.

I thought to myself, boy is this gonna be good and it was, hearing the lines I helped him with when Max began:

"Sydal Brother!

Every time you get in the ring, ya'll say namaste

But when we whoop your asses you'll be running away

No one cares about you two hippies

I should slap your asses back to the 1960's!"

It was so hard to sit in the ring and act disgusted meanwhile I wanted to laugh my ass off, but at the same time, I was also preparing myself, knowing I was next, Max pointing at me, saying:

"And Y/N, don't even get me started!

You, you-"

I was actually surprised this time. Max was stuck, stuttering, like he was nervous which I never saw from him. No one ever did, everyone trying to encourage him, I even heard Britt yell:

"Roast her, Max!"

But Max, he did something no one expected, going back to his rap:

"You know what, Y/N, I ain't even gonna lie

Every time I see you, I wanna make you mine.

You, you're better than all these girls

And all I ever wanted was to give you world

I know we're supposed to get in this ring and clash

But you and me? We are the perfect match!"

I began to naturally drift to the center of the ring and I really couldn't contain my emotions, holding my mouth for a moment, trying not cry and every began to cheer, clapping and smiling whenever Max finished with:

"This is a special moment, so everyone observe and watch me go get my girl!"

My arms were wide open while I watched Max hop into the ring, coming right at me with the best hug I ever received. There were few moments when I heard a big pop in this ring and this moment was one of them, everyone just go ballistic, whether if they liked us or not.

I couldn't hold back the tears whenever Max hugged me, but everything stopped, like slow motion, the noise dying down. The only thing I could feel was Max's hand holding the back of my head, looking into his gorgeous brown eyes before they closed, feeling the warmth of his soft lips whenever they met mine.

It was like fireworks were going haywire in my brain, passion being the thing that lit the fuse for them. Just the way Max had his arms around me, for the first time, feeling emotions from him that I never felt before and with the way he kissed me, I just knew that everything he said was true.

Whenever our lips parted, I finally snapped back into reality, seeing the ring and the crowd again while Max just pulled me into another hug, holding my head to his chest, looking down at me as he smiled:

"So, you gonna be my girl?"

"Why did you even ask? I am your girl," I giggled, smiling so hard when my head popped up, giving him another kiss.

Max kept his arm wrapped around my shoulder, yelling to Britt Baker:

"Ayo! Get over there with them hippies! Y/N is our partner!"

"What? You can't just change the match!" Britt yelled, trying to get in Max's face and that's when I stepped in.

Max was always a bit of an instigator, but this time, I didn't mind. Max and Anthony were on standby though whenever I got in Britt's face and said into a mic:

"You heard what my man said. Now get over there! Either way, I'm kicking your ass tonight!"

"Yeah! Get over there and catch this whoopin!" Max laughed, all of us watching whenever she just stopped trying and went to her corner while we went to ours.

Now, it was time to get in the zone and Anthony started out first with Mike. This was the first time I had ever team with Max and it was so hard to not smile and jump around to let out the excitement. It also took all my might to not get on Max and have a little match of our own. I was just on top of the world.

Our match was also a lot of fun. The only thing bothering me was that, Britt refused to be tagged in. She was abandoning her partners, which she would have done regardless of what side she was on. Max and Anthony had a tough time handle Matt and Mike.

At the climax of the match, Max just broke out of Matt's submission move, super-kicking him and they both collapsed. The only two people on the apron was Britt and myself.

"Come on, Max!" I yelled, stretching out my arm as far as possible.

Again, Britt abandon Matt, but Max made his tag to me. She had no choice but to get in here. Britt, of course, tried running away, but whenever she made it to the outside, right by the front of the ring, I ran against the ropes and hit her with a suicide dive, ramming her into the barricade, picked her up and threw her in the ring and that's when the real fun began.

Britt did have her moments where she was having the upper hand. At one point, I was almost put into her finisher, but she couldn't hook my other arm, which gave me an opportunity. Elbow after elbow, finally made her break her submission.

Matt and Mike tried getting back to the apron, to break up a pin if needed, but Max and Anthony were on it, taking them out while I was thinking on the top of my head, hitting her with a pump handle, flat-liner, planting her face in the mat and picking up the win.

As soon as that bell rang, Max came right at me, making me laugh as he about knocked me over. It was hands down, the best moment I ever had in that ring, Max and Anthony putting me up on each of their shoulders, raising me up high to celebrate.

Whenever we got backstage, that celebrating didn't stop. When we had open space, I just hugged Max again and we were both just so happy; Max spinning me around in his arms.

"I'm so happy you didn't show me the rap you had planned for me," I giggled, still raised up in his arms, looking down at him.

"If you want me to be honest," Max sighed, admitting, "That came off the top of my head. I could never talk about you in a bad way. It came straight from the heart."

"Max! I already cried enough tonight!" I whined, but smiling, making me laugh a little and I just wrapped my arms around his neck even tighter, laying my head on his shoulders, legs wrapping around his waist.

"You guys wanna call it a night?" Anthony suggested, we didn't have anything else to do truthfully.

"Wanna get out of here?" Max whispered to me, "Have some time to ourselves?"

"I would never pass that up," I cooed, kissing his cheek, "Just know though, I'm not letting you go."

Max just shook his head, smiling while patting my back, just listening and walking off to the locker room with me in his arms.

Backstage, we heard a lot about what happened out there and I was happy to hear a lot of sweet comments. We basically stole the show and both Max and Anthony agreed that I was now, officially, the third member of The Acclaimed.

I have always been the kind of person who couldn't contain their excitement and tonight, it was even worse, but also in the good way. I was shaking, jumping, squealing, just having the best night ever. Whenever Max and I got to the hotel, in our own room, I was still so excited, smiling whenever he came in and shut the door:

"So I am seriously apart of The Acclaimed?"

"Yes!" Max said for about the millionth time, laughing, "How many times are you gonna ask?"

"I'm sorry," I chuckled, admitting, "So much just happened tonight and I'm like, freaking out! I can't believe all of this!"

For once, it rarely happened, but Max got seriously, standing in front of me when he asked, "Why can't you believe it?"

"It-" I began, truly caught off guard, but I got serious too, admitting my true feelings, "I just can't believe that you feel the same way and you got to say it first. Telling the whole world. It's like a fairy tale dream and I'm living it."

"Dreams," Max sighed, stroking my cheek, "They do come true, baby."

"They do," I smiled, stroking his cheek too, "I'm so happy I don't have to keep dreaming anymore."

Just like in the ring, our lips clashed and it was even better. My knees seriously grew weak, shaking from anticipation, excitement wanting to grow, but moving through my body ever so slowly. When I wished in the ring that Max and I could just be one on one, that wish was coming true right in that moment.

I took a handful of his shirt, kissing him a bit harder and he understood the feelings steaming off of me, delivering that right back, picking up the tempo whenever he threw off his shirt, his hands unbuckling his pants while my shirt was gone next.

For a moment, we just stared at each other. By the way his chest was heaving, I could tell his heart was beating quick and hard, just like mine. Reality hitting me never felt so good, another hard kiss from Max finding my lips again, his strong arms picking me up by the thighs, wrapping them around his waist while he climbed onto the bed, laying me down softly.

While our kiss just grew even more intense, I pulled my shoulders in, my bra straps loose enough to fall down on their own. At the same time, Max spread my legs open wide, allowing himself to throw off his jeans.

A quick rush made my body shake a little, my blood running hot, growing whenever I felt his hard on hitting right at my clit, even through my tights I could feel it. It made me pick up the pace, sitting up, pulling away from our kiss when I whispered in a sexy tone:

"How about we get even, huh?"

The look in Max's eyes, I had never seen it before, laser focused while watching me kick off my tights and throwing my bra off the bed.

Slowly, he just looked me up and down, knowing that he liked what he saw, his cock growing even harder, it showing through his briefs, his erection making it tighter.

He liked it, so I gave him even more, bringing my legs together, smiling:

"What? You shy?"

Again, he just watched, following my every move while I threw off my panties next and finally, that's when he finally snapped back into place, smiling devilishly when he got off the bed, saying:

"Trust me, I'm not shy," At the same time, his briefs dropped to the floor and I definitely liked what I saw, a very impressive size, smiling hard again as he added, "I just can't get over how beautiful you are."

Max always knew how to make my heart flutter, my heart rate unstable at that point, but it never felt so good, it growing when I watched him crawl his way back up to, my legs naturally opening wide for him, eyes adjusting to the lighting quickly when he reached over to the left, turning off the lights.

I thought my blood was running hot? Max was like a human space heater, hands steaming hot and that alone gave me so much relaxation from the moment of contact, his hands covering and kneading at my breasts, feeling his hard, hot cock laying against me, his kiss leading from my lips down to my neck.

Each kiss on my neck was slow, his right hand falling down my side, picking me up a little by my lower back, taking a handful of my ass, keeping me in that position, holding it better once he took a hold of my thigh and I was left gasping, grabbing his shoulders quickly.

His crown began to push through and into me, the moisture taking a moment to hit, but even when it did, it was a lot, having me whine already.

"I'm not hurting you, am I?" Max asked quickly, noticing my reaction.

"No," I gasped quickly. He wasn't at all, I was just trying to focus on the feeling of being so full, "I just never felt this way before."

"Is that a good thing?" Max chuckled, smiling when I let my head fall back into the pillows, praising him already by saying:

"It's so damn good, baby."

"Good," Max whispered, kissing me softly, moving his hips a little more, feeding me some soft thrusts, working his way up so that eventually, our hips would meet.

That didn't take long, Max spreading my legs a little wider, which helped, sliding all the way in slowly and it made a deep moan fall from my lips, that same moan turning high pitched whenever I felt his crown go past my sweet spot and it felt amazing.

From the sounds of my moans, he knew that he was making me feel good, sitting up straight, my legs hooked around his button of his arms, dragging every inch down slowly, and putting it all back a little quicker, going deep just like last time.

"That feels good, huh?" Max smirked, squeezing my thighs hard once he did it again.

I just nodded my head, looking up at him for a moment while I murmured, "You found a new way to make me feel good and I love it."

"You love it?" He asked, picking up the pace and the feeling was so overwhelming, I could barely nod my head, overtaken by all the moans and noises that desperately needed to escape me.

Each thrust hitting my sweet spot, it jolted everyone one of my nerves, from my head to my toes, making me tremble a little, all the heat in my body growing hotter from how fast my blood was running, on top of Max's body heat.

Before I knew it, I was moaning out his name, more praising from those and just senseless babbles, my back arching hard from my nerves just searing my body. One of his hands found the arch of my back, pressing into it softly, his other hand keep him up a little, but our bodies still coming together.

We both could feel my walls spasming, clenching him so tight, my arms quickly wrapping around his neck, holding tightly because my body was just so close to losing all control. By keeping my hips up, he was sliding in so deep and with the quickened pace, it made my walls spasming even harder, signaling my orgasm.

"M-Max," I stuttered horribly, with the way he was moving, it was just hard to comprehend anything, only wanting to focus on all of the sweet, powerful pleasure.

"I'm here, baby," Max whispered in my ear, "You o-"

I didn't mean to cut him off, but even though he moved a bit slower in that moment, my whole body was in sensory overload, every part of me sensitive, his previous thrusts hitting my sweet spot multiple times because he was only pulling back a little, the soft impact also hitting my clit, making my body shudder, the heat in my body just dropping down, triggering me.

He knew the moment my hands latched onto his shoulders and I cried, "Max, oh my god, I'm cuming."

I could barely breathe, even Max having trouble trying to keep it together, letting out some groans whenever my walls just gave him a death grip, drenching us both.

Max actually helped me out by taking my hands, interlocking them with his and putting them above my head, it actually expanded my lungs, getting more air, but like always, he knew how to make me breathless.

His head was against mine, our noses nuzzling and he was still feeding me a few soft thrusts, but I paid close attention, even more overwhelmed whenever he cooed:

"Y/N, I love you."

My eyes opened slowly and he picked up his head to see mine, smiling when I whispered, "I love you too."

I was about ready to cry again, just hugging him, his head laying on my shoulder while he pinned his hips against mine, rocking back and forth a little, both of us breathing heavily when we felt another wave a heat that took us out.

Max literally just rocked my world, from the beginning of the night during the show till now, pulling me on top of him whenever he withdrew, falling back to lay down on the bed. I gladly took the cuddling invitation, placing my leg over him, cuddling up to his chest while he wrapped his arm around me.

"Max," I whispered softly, just looking at him in awe whenever he looked down to me, "I really love you."

Max rarely showed emotions out in the ring and on television but when it came to me, he didn't mind putting those walls down, wiping away a small tear that fell down my cheek when he cooed:

"I love you even more."

[merakiaes]

Teardrop Tattoo - Jose “Sad Eyes” Guzman

Pairing: Jose “Sad Eyes” Guzman x reader

Requested: By @ugh-jalynn​

Prompts: None. 

Warnings/notes: This one-shot is loosely based around the song “Coffin” by Jessie Reyes. It’s a bit angsty but nothing too bad. Not proofread so I apologize in advance for any possible mistakes and as usual, translations are at the end. 

Wordcount: 3940

Summary: Relationships aren’t always a dance on roses, especially not when you’re dating a Santo. But in the end, you pull through, because you’d rather die than live without each other. 

Your mother had made sure to teach you very early in life that no relationship was a dance on roses, that when you and your significant other fought, it was important to remember that it was never you versus each other but rather the two of you versus the problem and that whenever you found yourself in an argument, it was important that you stayed on the same page and solved the problem together.

But it was easier said than done when the time came that you actually found yourself in a situation in which you needed to follow her wise words; especially when you found yourself in said situation pretty much every day.

You had known what you were getting into when you first decided to start dating a Santo; you had known that it wouldn’t be easy.

But things were getting out of hand and you didn’t know what to do anymore. 

You had been fighting non-stop over the past few weeks.

You fought until the sun rose and by the time the two of you went about your days and your jobs, neither of you had been to bed, running on little to no sleep which was not a very good combination with the already existing tension and the fact that both of your professions required that you didn’t lose focus.

Money was tight for the two of you so you had been taking on extra shifts at the hospital all while he and Spooky were being worked to the bone by Cuchillos to clean up the mess Cesar had left behind with the Prophets.

You were both stressed, sleep-deprived, easily vexed, barely got to see each other and in all your angry glory, you blamed it on each other even though deep down, both of you knew it was only a matter of bad timing.  

But lately, it had started feeling like he was purposely avoiding you. You had been trying to spend time with him and he just came up with excuses as to why he couldn’t, every time.

He would tell you he was being sent out on a run or that he needed to take care of something for the Santos, and then when you would go out with your friends to distract yourself from the stress, you would find him drinking and laughing the night away at the same parties.

It wasn’t a big deal that it happened one time, but you were ashamed to say that it had happened more than once, and even more ashamed to admit that all of the fighting was making you doubt his loyalty to you.

At this point, you were living in a constant, never-ending, dark circle. 

You would fight and then one of you would take the step to apologize and reach your hand out to the one who was still drowning in anger. 

But when doing so, every time, the other wouldn’t be ready to let the argument go and pull the other down with them right back under the surface again.

And so it kept going, over and over again, almost like clockwork. 

You had reached the point where you didn’t know what to do to save your relationship anymore, or whether or not it was even possible in the first place. 

You were like water mixed with oil, a disaster just waiting to happen and a lethal mix always on the verge of exploding.

You were so angry at each other all the time that you rarely even remembered why you were mad in the first place and you found yourself at your wit’s end, constantly torn between your mother’s many life-advice.

On one hand, she had taught you not to give up on the people you loved, to be patient and work hard to keep your relationship together, even when it seemed like there was no hope.

But on the other hand, she had also taught you that people make time for those they care about. No bullshit. No excuses. No broken promises or false hopes for the future.

If someone was into you, you wouldn’t have to keep begging them for a text, call or quality time together. They’d take the initiative, themselves, if you were a priority.

She taught you that no person would ever be busier than someone who wasn’t interested in you and lately, Sad Eyes had been awfully busy and all the things he claimed to be busy with always turned out to be made-up.

All of it had made you so exhausted that you could barely bring yourself to be angry anymore. You were just… sad.

You were sad when you stared at your boyfriend of two years from your spot in the doorway, eyes following his every move as he moved around the room, getting dressed after his shower.

“What’s going on with you lately?” Your voice came out as a mere whisper, your cheek leaning against the doorframe and your eyebrows creasing together. “I barely even recognize you anymore…”

He didn’t even look up at you, putting all of his focus into turning his inside-out tank-top back out. “Yeah? You and me both.” He muttered simply, pulling the tank-top over his head and then wordlessly turning his back to you to put on his navy blue button-up over it.

Your jaw tensed and a breath left your nose in annoyance, but you kept your calm and pushed yourself off the doorframe, taking a step into the room and crossing your arms over your chest as you watched him put his golden chain back on.

“Don’t try to shut me out like that.” You told him sternly, shaking your head and glaring into the side of his face. “I’ve been here from day one. I know things have been tense between us for a long time now but this… This is something else entirely and I deserve an explanation.”

He turned around to face you, but he avoided you like you were the plague, walking right past you and out of your shared bedroom. “I need some time to think. I’ll be home later.”

You wasted no time uncrossing your arms and turning around to hurry after him, barely even able to keep up with his long, urgent strides. He was obviously in a hurry to get out of there, just like every day these past week and a half.

“Yeah, you’ve been needing a lot of time to think lately.” You scoffed at him as you jogged after him, managing to slide your body in between him and the front door right before he could grab the door handle.

For the first time since coming home the hour before, he had no other choice but to look at you, his eyes meeting yours and watching as your face pulled into a frown.

“Do you not want to be with me anymore? Is that it?” You asked quietly. “Are you tired of me? Do you not love me anymore? If that’s the case then I’d rather you just put me out of my misery now because I can’t do this anymore. I can’t-“

You cut yourself off, tearing your eyes away from his as a sudden wave of sadness overcame you. 

Above you, his cold eyes flickered with emotion at the sight as you continued. “I can’t walk around and pretend like everything’s fine when in reality, I’m mourning you even though you’re not even gone.”

A heavy silence fell over you, the only thing being heard being the clock in the kitchen and the various sounds of people going about their days outside on the block.

You kept staring into the floorboards under your feet for another good half minute before you felt a warm hand come up to touch your face, Sad Eyes’ fingers catching your chin and lifting your head up to look at him again.

He stared down at you, moving his hand from your chin to tuck a piece of your hair behind your ear. Then, he leaned his head down to yours and kissed you.

It was short, but it was more affection than you had gotten for a week so it was very well-appreciated nonetheless, succeeding in making you a bit happier, even if it was just a little.

“I love you and I want to be with you, none of that has changed.” He told you when you broke back apart, caressing your cheek just for a second longer before dropping his hand back to his side and taking a step back. “I just need to do a run for Spooky and then I’ll be back.”

And just like that, the bitterness returned to your body in a wave, just as quickly as it had gone away. “Yeah, it’s always runs for Spooky.” You muttered, looking to the side.

His hand reached out to take a hold of yours, causing you to look back up at him almost instantly. “I’ll be back before the hour is up.” He told you and you gave him a doubtful look.

“Do you promise?” You asked, and he nodded, eyebrows furrowing together slightly.

“Tienes mi palabra.” He nodded.

But he never came home.

An hour passed, and then two, three and four with no sign of him, leaving you home alone to nurse yourself back to a mediocre, temporary happiness with a movie from the hurt caused by yet another broken promise.

It had been around six in the afternoon when he had left the house and by the time the front door opened again, the clock on your nightside table was closing in on midnight.

You had kept occupying yourself with movies for the first two hours but after that you had turned off the TV, unable to concentrate any longer and breaking down in your bed.

After quite literally crying your eyes out, you fell asleep for… well, you didn’t really know how long and you didn’t have the energy to do the math, and then you had just laid there staring into your phone while you absentmindedly scrolled through your social media.

When you heard the front door unlocking and opening you looked up from the phone, listening intently to get an idea of what he was doing.

The sound of a bang reached your ears shortly after the front door had slammed shut again, followed by a string of hushed, Spanish curses and you instantly prepared for what was to come, sadly enough used enough to it to have it all down as a routine by now.

You locked your phone, putting it to the side and sitting up in bed to the sound of his footsteps closing in on your bedroom, watching as he stumbled through the doorway a few seconds later.

He was still cursing quietly under his breath, his eyes obviously not used to the dark yet judging by the way he was fumbling and stumbling around. But then again, that could have just been a result of the alcohol he had obviously consumed.

The mere thought of it caused your face to pull into a glare and your arms to cross over your chest. 

“Have you been out drinking again?” You asked before you could stop yourself, and watched as he near jumped out of his skin.

He obviously hadn’t noticed that you were awake up until then and you’d caught him by surprise by breaking the silence, causing his stumbling to become even clumsier.

But rather than turning to face you, he seemed to do the exact opposite, turning away from you so quickly you instantly turned suspicious.

“I’m not drunk.” He answered back bitterly, and you hummed in disapproval.

His voice wasn’t slurring so he was obviously telling the truth, but it was groggy, indicating that he had in fact been drinking. And the smell of beer only proved it, scent so strong he might as well have spilled an entire bottle over himself.

And what did you know, maybe he had. You wouldn’t be surprised if that was the case.

“You’re not sober, either. I can smell it on you all the way from here.” You pointed out, watching his every move with eyes narrowed in suspicion. “You told me you were just going on a run. You promised me you would come back home afterward. We don’t break promises.”

Your eyes squinted even further when taking note of how he was excessively avoiding turning to look at you and when he grabbed a pillow from his side of the bed, your body reacted almost as if out of instinct, moving out of the bed to stand.

“What are you doing?” You asked, rounding the bed as quickly as your legs could take you when he began walking out of the room again, pillow now clutched tightly in his hand.

“I’m sleeping on the couch.” He muttered back simply, not even sparing you a glance.

Your face pulled into a glare and you quickly rushed up in front of him, forcing him to come to a stop in order to not walk straight into you. 

“No, you’re not.” You glared, trying to get his eyes to meet yours but you couldn’t even get a look of his face with how quickly he had walked around you again.

“I need to be alone right now.” He kept arguing with you and that’s when you snapped.

“You’re not sleeping on the couch, give me the fucking pillow!” You exclaimed, getting in his way again and reaching out to grab the pillow, tearing it out of his grasp with one, sharp tug and in turn, he slipped up, whipping his head around to face you with a glare equally as fierce as yours.

"I’m fucking tired and I want to go to sleep. Is that too much to ask for now, too?!" He yelled back, but his words barely even progressed in your brain, your eyes widening as you were finally able to see his face.

It was like all of the air left your lungs in that one moment, leaving you breathless and unable to progress anything around you.

All you could see, all you could think about, was the black teardrop now inked into the tan skin underneath his eye, the edges around the small tattoo still red and showing cleared just how freshly executed it was.

You had always been scared for him, the worry coming naturally with him being a gang-member and always being on the run from the law and the Prophets. But never, not ever, had you been this scared.

He avoided your wide, fear-struck eyes like his life depended on it, looking behind you into empty space, but now that the cat was out the bag, he made no move to further hide the reason for his previous avoidance.

"I thought you were just doing runs." You managed to get out through the thickness of your throat, swallowing in an attempt to calm your rapidly growing panic.

His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed, too, his jaw tensing and his eyes glaring over your shoulder. "It’s never just anything with Cuchillos.” He answered lowly. “Shit’s been hectic with the Prophets lately. We needed to take care of it, keep the block safe."

"Baby..." You gave him a sad look, dropping the pillow onto the couch beside you and slowly reaching your hand out to grab his.

He ripped it out of your grasp in one swift movement to a start but you didn’t give up, reaching out for it again and this time around, he did nothing to stop you.

Slowly and cautiously, you took a step forward, and then another and then a third, pressing your chest against his and reaching your arms up to wrap them around his neck and by doing so pulling his face into your shoulder.

In turn, his arms slowly wrapped around your waist and he pressed his face harder into your neck.

His beard tickled your skin uncomfortably but you forced yourself to ignore the prickly feeling, holding him close and furrowing your eyebrows in thought as you came to the realization that his angry, snappy behavior suddenly made sense.

When he made a mistake, he knew it, felt it, tore himself apart about it. He lost sleep, didn’t stop thinking about it and beat himself up about it to the point where he would be on the verge of losing his sanity completely.

You didn’t know how you hadn’t seen the signs before but now that the cards were out on the table, it was all so insanely clear.

Sad Eyes had never been like the other Santo cholos.

Had he grown up poor with worse privileges and fewer opportunities than others? Yeah, everyone in Freeridge had. But despite all that, he had lived a good life.

He had a loving mother, two sisters that he adored to bits and pieces and up until his passing when he was seventeen, he’d had a good, solid father-son relationship with his dad.

He didn’t have a traumatic childhood with absent parents like Oscar and so many other Santos had. He wasn’t in the Santos because he had a legacy or family crest to live up to, or because he was roped in against his will.

The brotherhood, the strong bond of loyalty between ride or die brothers and the sense of belonging somewhere; of, despite all the laws being broken in the process, doing something good and being able to protect those he cared about, it was all the life he, himself, had chosen.

The law had never done anything to help him or his family when the governmental system had failed them so he didn’t give two flying fucks about whether he lived on the good or the bad side of the lawbook.

But still, he was so sincere, so gentle and so loving. He didn't mind robbing a bank or dealing drugs, but you knew he'd never really liked the violence that came with it.

The beatings he was sent out to do when someone disrupted the Santos’ plans, the beatings he'd been forced to sit through every time someone new was being jumped in… He didn't like it at all but it was out of his control and he had no other choice but to follow orders.

The only thing he did have control over was his killing count. He had never taken another man's life and he found great comfort in it, even if he would never admit that kind of vulnerability out loud.

But now that was out of his control, too, and you knew that now more than ever, you needed to follow your mother’s advice and put your differences aside in order to be there for him, hold up your end of the promise and stay by his side for as long as he wanted you to, forever and always.

Because at the end of the day, no matter how much you fought, he never let you go to sleep wondering if you still mattered and you would be caught dead before you did that to him, too.

You might have been a fool for falling for a Santo in the first place but you loved him to death. You would rather lay lifeless and rot away in a coffin six feet underground than live without him, and if he was, against all odds, the first one to go, the coffin better have been made for two, because if he jumped, you jumped.

You had been in this shit together since the start, and no matter how severe of a crime committed on his part, that would never change.

But he was obviously expecting you to end it right then and there judging by the way he was standing, breathing, squeezing his hands shut at his sides and glaring into something further away in the room when you broke apart from the embrace, which only broke you heart even further.

You slowly raised a hand up to his jaw, watching as his eyes fell shut at the feeling of your touch, and supported the weight of his head when he leaned his forehead against yours.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” You whispered, and he let out a deep breath through his nose, his hands squeezing down at your sides.

“I didn’t want to scare you away.” He muttered back, his voice coming out low. “You’re the best thing I’ve got going in my life, even with all of the shit that’s been going on. I couldn’t lose you.”

Your heart tugged in your chest at his words and you swallowed, looking down. “When… when did you-“

“Last week.” He replied without missing a beat and you nodded.

“And that’s why you’ve been-“

“Yeah.”

Your eyes flickered back up to his to find that he was now looking at you with eyes full of regret. 

“I’m sorry.” He looked at you somberly and you instantly started shaking your head, raising your other hand to his other cheek.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. Good people sometimes make bad decisions, whether it be by their own choice or by having it pushed upon them.” You assured him, turning your head down to hold his gaze when he attempted to break it. “They mess up and they let others down, but that doesn’t make them bad people. We all make mistakes, we all have flaws, it’s what makes us human, so don’t let one mistake ruin a beautiful thing. You know I’d stay by your side no matter what, so don’t push me away. Please.”

He stared intently at you as you spoke, the expression on his face unreadable. But he said nothing, so you continued, caressing his face soothingly .

“I can’t promise you a perfect relationship without arguments and differences but I can promise you as long as you’re trying, I’m staying. No matter what happens, no matter how deep you get caught up with the Santos. The only thing that could make me leave you is if I’m dead and even then, I know I’d find you, somehow, somewhere.”

You paused briefly, taking note of the way he tensed up when your touch neared the teardrop under his eye.

But he quickly relaxed again when you brought your hand down from his face to instead grab his hand, your lips tugging up in a small smile. “You’re my ride or die, remember?”

A moment of silence fell over you, the two of you just staring into each other’s eyes. And then he nodded, squeezing your hand back and leaning in to press his lips to your forehead. “And you’re mine.”

You nodded, mustering a small smile of comfort. And then you leaned your cheek against his chest, hugging him close and letting him do the same to you.

Your mother’s advice and words of wisdom had taken you so far in life but something she hadn’t mentioned was that sometimes, two people had to fall apart to realize how much they need to fall back together.

You’d had to learn that lesson all on your own and now that you had, it was going to be so much easier for you to handle everything that was going on, knowing that you would be able to get through any obstacle as long as you were together.

Come tomorrow morning, you would start fresh, and even if that turned out not to be possible with everything now obviously being about to change, you wouldn’t even consider leaving him.

You would rather live a miserable life full of crime with him than a miserable, safe life without him, because at the end of the day, he was your ride or die and you were his, as you had been ever since you first met.

Nothing was going to change that, especially not a stupid teardrop tattoo.

Translations (I’m not a native Spanish speaker so this might not be a hundred percent accurate):

Tienes mi palabra – You have my word

Tagged: @babienay @firebenderwolf @chaneajoyyy @moanlightbaby @dolanackles @marvelously-flawed @ugh-jalynn @jazzwhitlockhale @joyrivh @socialistavocado @turn-diamonds-into-snow @shadow-of-wonder @bxmaaa @clemmingstylins0n @trublmr @fairygardenss @spookysnena @shxllxfx​

[currentfandomkick]

I have no excuse on this, just saw the prompt and wrote. inspired by @virgil-is-a-cutie‘s post where Marinette was from Gotham and moved to Paris, many liberties taken on timeline though, and with @justafanwarrior‘s comment on it

-

Marinette blinked a few times when her parents told her the first time that her grandfather on Papa’s side died, and they were going to move into his old bakery.

She was twelve.

She was getting ready for Tim (who’s elven and should not be allowed follow Robin without backup). She just finished working on a bit of embroidery for his suit when the Wayne Gala came up.

She didn’t know how to feel other than dread. (new country, language lessons, culture shock, losing her friends, her connections, her room and so much more).

She was quiet, nodded, and got ready for bed on time.

She whispered about it to Tim, who she watches out for. Because he’s small, an idiot with a very nice camera and she has to. Its her job to—she caught him when he almost fell and they were ten and nine. Like Jason caught her once. (She was so much smaller then, barely remembered the place but she slipped and Jason Todd caught her and told her to always watch her step because no one else will do it for her. well, she decided that she would watch hers and other people’s. because someone should, so why not her?)

She hadn’t seen Jason for years though. She knew he’s a Wayne now, but Waynes and Drakes have some weird rivalry thing and the Dupain-Chengs cater for the Drakes. So she hasn’t seen him in their neighborhood, not around her family’s business (or her ‘Uncle’ Oswald’s) or anywhere really.

Instead she saw Tim who she decided a long time ago was hers to watch out for.

She couldn’t take him to Paris though.

Tim didn’t like it any more than her. They both know they can’t stop it.

But Marinette made sure he was better at looking out and watching before she left.

It was a year of renovations to make the bakery and house above ready for them. Marinette was moved in the summer. She hugged Tim tight before she left, on one of their rooftop runs for fun (the memory, their last run ever) rather than BatWatch.

They didn’t know Robin saw them  for a moment and was ready to give them a Big Lecture, because why would they? They were just moving to breathe, moving to scream in silence and ignore everything they don’t get to control. They were roof top running to have some control in a situation neither of them had any.

Marinette and Tim dropped down to her house, since it was over… for good.

“No going out there again since I can’t go too.”

Tim nodded, crying against her. She cried tooo. They both hated it.

Marinette moved to Paris the next day, beginning of summer. Beginning of the extra crazy as Gotham summers were always ripe with more rogues and more time and more ‘help’ than the rest of the year.

Marinette missed it. She was in Paris helping her parents do a grand opening. It was a success. Maman was glad they got out of Gotham, murmuring it would be better for Marinette. Marinette disagreed, but didn’t contradict her or Papa who was so much happier in Paris than in Gotham. He missed his home city.

(Marinette missed Uncle Oswald showing up at random to make sure no one was doing anything ‘untoward’ to her or people she said he should help. Paris seemed to have a different breed of ‘untoward’ that were well hidden. No one kept them in check. No Batman here to try, no Uncle Oswald to warn her, and no Jason to remind her to watch out for herself.)

On the first day of school Marinette was thrown into being a superhero. Ladybug—she should have used Ladybird or Coccinelle because it was so American but she panicked and now she’s a very American Named Hero of Paris. She prayed no one made the connection.

When Jason Todd died and made the news in the middle of her first year, she cried. A lot. She was Ladybug and couldn’t afford to be akumatized but her parents knew that even if Jason wasn’t around for her since she was little, that she kept those memories close, kept those pictures and wished him the best. They were grieving too—he was almost their son (they tried so hard to get him to stay, but he didn’t want to. He had a mom to care for and Marinette should have asked Uncle Oswald for help when Catherine looked off to her but she didn’t. She was seven and Jason begged her not to say anything so she didn’t.)

She was doing good as Ladybug. (more like putting out fires than fixing the problems, but she did only have observing Batman and Robin to go off of, and none of what she saw was the detective work.) She took down akumas, was working on becoming a good guardian in the future (the kwami admitted she and Chat were the only candidates… the temporary heroes weren’t even in the running) and becoming a better designer. (She now works for Jagged and Clara on the design itself, they have official seamstresses that build her creations to her standards and specifications. She handles the fittings and adjustments when her schedule allows.)

Then Lila showed up and Marinette didn’t get how they didn’t see through the lies. Marinette will admit her lies in French are just… bad. Thankfully they all write it off as her mistranslating her thoughts and her speaking five languages (English, Italian, Spanish, French and Mandarin) rather than it being an attempt at lying. She’s better in English, okay?

But Lila’s were outrageous, even for their school. Maybe it was Gotham, (Uncle Oswald murmuring how to spot a con and a manipulator a mile away, Jason reminding her to be suspicious of every good and too good deal offered, especially with nothing backing it) but she didn’t put too much into Lila on sight.

Then the Ladybug lying and things escalated.

Chloe caught the Drakes talking to one of the events her parents were catering to. Janet was inspecting Marinette’s latest work while Marinette let the woman analyze her choice before being dismissed with a “You have improved, but do try using that sewing machine for your seams next time.”

Tim had been standing with her and they were allowed to escape the crowd to catch up. Tim was not shocked to find out she’d taken to destroying people in Ultra Mecha Strike III on a city wide scale (she won) while Tim was working on more professional photos and debating taking up a sport to be more well rounded (he’s thinking baseball or track because of the running) and they both skirt around her design success because it could jinx it.

Not long after Chloe makes an effort to get along with Marinette. Marinette made a few things clear: she’s not a lackey and neither is Sabrina, that Chloe needs to stop using her family to get out of everything, and that Chloe needs to apologize for hurting people intentionally.

Unsurprisingly, this didn’t go over well the first time.

Sabrina did get close to Marinette instead (Marinette had no issue with this) and joined the girl gang.

Marinette was still skeptical (daughter of a cop versus anyone from gotham is a recipe for disaster) but so far Sabrina just needed to be given normal friend treatment en masses to calm down her obsessive tendencies. It may have reminded Marinette of Tim and his obessions. Kind of like how Marinette took to Alya (superhero obsessed like Tim, and protective like Jason) so she was quick to get used to her.

Chloe did make amends that year (slowly) and kept doing so.

Chloe and Marinette did agree on one thing: Lila is a scam and they didn’t want the class falling for it. So Marinette made suggestions to keep her friends on track for their interests (actually practice, don’t wait for opportunities) while Chloe took to openly opposing Lila as the one Lila can’t touch.

It kept Marinette safe from her attempted manipulations. Chloe was all for it—as Bustier isn’t able to cow Chloe the way Marinette knows the woman would try on Marinette. And language miscommunications could make her seem more complacent and get her in more trouble for not being as complacent as Bustier wants her to be.

Then came the anniversary. The first one. (and the one where Tim is a Wayne now, thanks to Janet passing and Jack being found negligent.)

Lila made the mistake of talking about Jason. Like he was nothing. Like he was a problem and rude and cruel. And a creep.

“I mean, not to speak ill of the dead but…”

“Then shut your trap.” Marinette stuck to Italian. Alya stiffened as Italian had become Marinette’s ‘I am emotional and need you to understand’ language as far as the class was concerned.

“Oh, I didn’t mean to be insensitive…” Lila said in an almost convincing act. Almost.

“Well you are Rossi,” Chloe glanced at Marinette, as she didn’t know what the connection to Jason was.

“I mean, its not like he was much than a…” Lila shut up as Marinette was stalking forward and this? this was not was Marinette was supposed to do. Throw a fit, make a fool of herself, something like that.

Marinette only saw someone trying to drag Jason through the mud. Everyone moved away when Marinette approached (like Uncle Oswald in a silent rage) and she didn’t quite remember what happened from there.

She did remember ending up at the principle’s office with her parents and Lila’s mom.

Who was finding out a number of lies Lila told and Marinette could feel a Talk coming on for her. (Good.)

But then it moved back to why they were there and Marinette saw red as “She was talking about Jason.”

Her parents stilled as that was (almost) family.

Maman was smiling too wide then as “What were you saying about him?”

Lila squirmed as she repeated words that were Wrong.

“She made it sound like he was nothing.”

Tom was the one that terrified them all then, turning to Miss Rossi. “So you mean to tell me your daughter was insulting a child who was murdered that my family was in the process of adopting before he vanished when his mother died and was taken in by the Waynes.”

Damocles paled as Miss Rossi had made it sound like she was getting back at Marinette for bullying her (something everyone but Bustier had denied vehemently. Especially Chloe and Chloe’s word outranked Lila’s) but with all of this… it seemed more like Lila was the issue.

Lila was trying to process the new information. Marinette was going to kill her was her conclusion.

“Miss Rossi could not have known of that connection,” Damocles said, eyeing the girl with something guarded.

It wasn’t more than a day later the school was introduced the Marinette’s uncle.

“Now, which of you is the one that angered my little birdie?”

Marinette groaned as she didn’t call him. Nor had her parents. (He was watching them then. Great. She thought that stopped when they left Gotham.)

Apparently terrorizing her classmates (and the school’s staff) was enough for him. Lila was now at juvie for truancy (the only charge that stuck) and away from Marinette.

She figured that was it.

It was not…

--

Six months later…

“Tim Tam?”

Tim grinned at her. “Hey Marebear!”

He was at Dupont, grinning like a loon at her. She said screw decorum and scooped him up and twirled as he is still too tiny.

“Okay, I love that you’re here but why?”

“Heard there was a problem in Paris you neglected to tell me about.” Tim gestured for them to go into the car behind him..

Heroes was her first thought. And Hawkmoth, but its Tim so heroes are his focus.

“I figured we were staying out of old habits.” She was a hero, not stalking them.

“We are.”

Marinette raised an eyebrow as she knew that tone, and it meant he had an idea. She slipped into the car with a wave to her classmates.

“What do you know,” she began with.

“Ladybug purifies and fixes, Chat Noir destroys. Good guys. Anything animal themed is a hero, expect Mayura. Bug themed besides Ladybug, Toss-up. Hawkmoth is who needs to go down.”

Marinette filled in the blanks on powers for public heroes. She shrugged on the blurred possible hero (MultiMouse) and let Tim rattle on and on.

“So I was thinking, why hasn’t anyone looked for outside help?”

Marinette blinked a bit as… “The Mayor was told it was a joke by Green Lantern when they asked for help the Stoneheart Army.”

Tim furrowed his brow. “Which one?”

“There’s more than one?”

“Hair color.”

“Weasely looking, that’s all I remember.”

“That was the ginger who is hated by the JL members, and should not count. Want me to ask Batman?”

“Should I be surprised the Waynes have him on call?”

Tim smiled at her, the one that they used when their parents told them to play and they went roof running and were never caught.

“Never mind. Do you need me to contact Ladybug or Chat Noir?”

“Well, I am talking to Ladybug.”

Marinette knew how to play this off. “And Batman and Brucie are the same person because the butts match.”

“Well, yeah, it would make being his Robin a little harder if they weren’t.”

Marinette took a deep breath before hitting Tim upside the head as “you idiot!”

“Hey, hey! Someone had to!”

“Nightwing!”

“Didn’t want to—not the way he needed!”

“I, urgh! Wait—then Jason—”

Tim softened. “Yeah.”

Marinette hit her head agains the back of the seat. “He told me to always watch out for myself and…”

Tim pressed his shoulder to hers. “I know.”

The rest of the ride was silent.

“How did you…”

“Ladybug, your new haircut and word that speech you made on your debut? A lot like what I found from Jason’s things.”

Marinette may have blushed. A bit. Okay, she had her heroes and hers didn’t wear scaly panties—wait. He did, she just didn’t know that at the time.

“No telling me Chat’s identity.”

“Haven’t figured him out yet, but I would love to see your theories on who hawkmomth could be.”

“Needs the funds to run a butterfly garden, and knowledge to do it in secret, local too, and probably a parent to a Dupont student.”

“That should narrow it down.”

--

A few weeks later, at fifteen years old, Ladybug and Chat Noir defeated Hawkmoth (with Robin playing intelligence, and refusing to take credit). Chat didn’t want to do the reveal after.

Marinette figured it out when he sneezed at a pigeon.

They met up still, but Chat needed a purpose and Marinette was the guardian. She and Tikki exchanged a look. Marinette called Tim.

“Hey Tim? Remember that group project you mentioned? I don’t think I can help, but I know someone who could use an invite…”

--

Marinette is sixteen when Red Hood makes a splash in Gotham. Tim was there at the time, so was Adrien.

She didn’t know what happened (they won’t tell) and she won’t press… them at least.

Uncle Oswald answered her questions. New crime lord, and he has a bone to pick with the Bats.

Marinette convinces her parents to let her stay in Gotham. Jagged offered his townhouse for when he’s on tour and she can’t go with (she has so many commissions, so no touring for her).

Chloe and Sabrina manage to convince their parents its okay. (Sabrina’s dad was a particularly difficult sell until Marinette’s Uncle Oswald offered to have them guarded by his men. In person. Marinette is convinced he has a team watching her at this point, and is glad she’s retired as Ladybug. It’d be dangerous if she wasn’t.)

Alya somehow got an internship in Metropolis (Marinette wasn’t glaring at Tim for that, she was disappointed he meddled so much Superman caught on and had his girlfriend offer the girl a spot.)

Nathaniel and Nino couldn’t make it for the summer, but both managed to visit.

Thankfully neither of those visits coincided with her own run-in with Red Hood. To be fair, it was at the old bakery location. Now run by a friend of Papa’s who uses a different set of recipes.

Marinette was there and making some of the old recipes for old time’s sake. One of the baker’s was from Papa’s staff before they left. Most of the new staff were a bit sketchy, but nothing that raised Gotham Red Flags.

She blinked a few times during the encounter as Red Hood burst in (it was still light out… she thought at the time) and paused when he saw her.

“You’re the old owner’s kid?”

She didn’t get what her family had to do until… Uncle Oswald. Great. Human Bait-time.

“Pretty sure the kid left town with her family.” Not a complete lie, but an easy deflection like Jason taught her. She’s not as snarky as him (as he was).

Red Hood, she couldn’t tell what that did for him (stupid Helmet) but he did grab what she was  and say “yeah, no way the kid would botch a macron like this.”

She really wanted to deck him for that one. As it was her specialty asshole.

He did leave after that and she may have told Jagged and Oswald she’s going to spend a week or two in NYC with Audrey to keep her mind off of it…

Then Tim had her over with Adrien (who Marinette is now convinced is a Wayne ward in all but name since he lives there now) and Just Their Luck, Red Hood decided to break into the Batcave.

Tim went off to defend it, and Marinette sighed as this is her life and she isn’t a hero anymore. Ladybug would be recognized and easily connected but…

“Trixx, Let’s Pounce!”

A fox hero? Unlikely. One illusion spell later (and Bruce, Tim, Alfred, Adrien suiting up) and Red Hood was knocked out.

Alfred was the one to tell her to stay up stairs as “This isn’t something you need to see Miss.”

She dropped the transformation and put her hands on her hips as “This guy tried to kill Tim who I’ve been keeping from dying since he slipped on a ladder in the middle of winter like an idiot. And is already looking for me.”

The group exchanged a look at that.

“How long?”

“He said I couldn’t be me because my macrons were wrong,” Marinette grumbled, ignoring the real question.

“He did what!” Adrien gawked at her.

“Marinette!” Tim was not happy.

Bruce was looking at her like she was the weird one.

“Oh no, you don’t get to look at me like that. I’m not the one fighting crime in as my fursona and teaching other people to do the same.”

Apparently Red Hood was not actually out cold. How does she know this?

He started laughing.

Bruce was sputtering, Alfred was unreadable, Tim was bring pink and Adrien was nodding along as he was one who started calling Batman and other heroes ‘the furrious furries’ when Batman and Robin were brought up as helping them with Hawkmoth over a year ago.

It was strange to think of it as a year ago.

(a year ago she thought Jason was dead, that Hawkmoth was impossible to find and still crushed on Adrien).

Now Jason is alive, Hawkmoth was defeated ages ago and that crush? Gone with that thing called distance and perspective.

Instead she was staring at the guy who broke into the Batcave and implied he was going to kidnap her two weeks ago, if she was herself, and didn’t because her macrons were ‘wrong’ when he clearly has no taste.

“Hey Pixie.”

Her brain shorted as… “Jason what the fuck.”

Her summer was a weird one. Jason was alive, Uncle Oswald and him were doing business, and since Marinette was in shock still, she went to Uncle Oswald’s unannounced (he tells her when he plans to be busy) so she walked in on Red Hood and him arguing over something and…

“Is this karma for helping Tim when I ten?”

Red Hood took one look at her, then Oswald, and it clicked.

“Pixie, why didn’t you tell me this Thing was your Uncle?”

“Mari dear, please tell me your association with this, this brute.”

“He came back from the dead and didn’t tell me,” Marinette told her Uncle as that she could process.

“Ah. That… explains nothing. Mari dear, we’ll talk about this later, feel free to go to the park until I send someone to fetch you.”

“No, I think Pixie will stay right here and find out what you do.”

Marinette did the logical thing one does when a dead almost-was-your-brother turns into a crime lord and is talking to your ‘Uncle’ who you know has a shady reputation.

Get the hell out of there.

She grabbed her things (she kept them in the suitcases just in case, because Gotham) and joined Uncle Jagged on tour because right now? She needed something a bit less insane. And Jagged qualified.

-

She would love to tell you she went after Red Hood, or helped Tim and Adrien, she would, but she’s the guardian and that means staying out of on-going wars of many kinds.

It also meant she was able to defend herself when Jason Fucking Todd decided to crash a Wayne Gala that Uncle Jagged and Uncle Oswald were insistent that she attend. Clara and Adrien and Tim joined in. Chloe and Sabrina and Alya combined forces to convince her to attend, while Nino consoled her with pats and good music.

Jason Fucking Todd announcing he’s alive at said Gala, and making a scene before chatting up Bruce and the Wayne Clan (There is new girl named Cass. and she did see a blond with Tim, she thinks its Steph but it could be one of his Titan Friends since she saw Superboy looking like less of a fashion disaster for once with a fast talking ginger that she’s pretty sure is the current Kidflash).

Marinette was so glad she was on the other side of the room, and out of the spotlight.

Jason Fucking Todd catching her the next day when she was getting coffee, was not in her plans.

“So, Pixie Pop, we have some catching up to do.”

And she is not bitter he vanished out of no where. That she thought he was dead when she was a little kid and mourned for months, only to find out he’s a Wayne now. Then not be allowed to see him because of the Wayne-Drake thing. Or that he really died for real and then came back without telling her. Or that he became a crime lord on top of it all and Tim a few scars that line up with what Oswald heard of Robin and Red Hood fights that were brutal.

Nope.

Not.

At.

All.

“We do, but I have an appointment already, and you already know how to contact me, so bye.”

He didn’t, but Tim did. And that meant he had to fix things there.

She’s not sure how to feel about her almost-brother and his attacks on Tim. She’s not sure how to process all of this but she can put some distance, right?

Wrong.

Jason Freaking Todd decided to make up some BS story about having taken time to get better and being grabbed by a goddamn cult and it took him time to escape. (Tim told her it was close to the truth the cult was some group called the League of Assassins… she just. Why. just why?)

Then he decided (re: Alfred Apparently knows Gina, who told Maman and Papa) to get her parents involved in making her talk to him.

How? How does he do this from another continent where he runs his (technical) criminal enterprise?

He just shows up after Tim figured what he was doing and told Alfred.

And now Marinette has to talk to her almost-brother-that-died when she’s elbows deep in a design rut and is far more willing to kick his ass than run (or think about talking to him).

“Pixie pop,” Jason grinned.

Marinette refused to respond on the principle. Her parents were downstairs, and she’s trying to make a nice silloutte but can’t and Fuck Off Jason.

“So, uh, I’m alive.”

“Uh huh.”

“I don’t kill people that don’t deserve it.”

She narrowed her eyes as “Tim.”

Jason scratched the back of his neck. “Okay, I was really messed up for a while.”

Marinette rubbed her forehead. “And.”

“You know of anything called the Lazarus Pitts.”

She did. Also they drive you insane (re: beyond reason) with one use.

“I was recovering from them and mostly have the Pitt Juice out of my system.”

“Bruce?” because he’s batman so what can’t he do at this point?

“A friend of his.”

Cryptic, but she doesn’t want to focus on him.

“So, what have you been up to?”

“Fashion.”

“Oh, what kind?”

Somehow she managed to soften a bit and give real answers. Maybe it was because Jason mentioned debating trying school and vigilantism (apparently he goes after abusers and drug lord and people who target kids and pregnant women and okay, she’ll check with Tim later and all for it being the truth but… she wants this to be real.

--

At seventeen Marinette meets a ten year old Damian Wayne, who is insistent Tim is not a Wayne.

Marinette is ready to throw hands with a teeny tiny assassin child.

Adrien is too.

Tim says he was just leaving, so Marinette makes the “mature” decision to follow him to San Fransico with Adrien on her heels.

They were not expecting Red Hood to show up a week into their stay (Uncle Oswald was expected to pop in and complain about her not being in Gotham, but Red Hood (not Jason but Red Hood)? Not on the list of visitors.

“So you’re telling me this kid tried to start shit with my Replacement?”

Marinette raised an eyebrow and nodded.

Red Hood told her to give him three weeks to fix it.

Somehow, it worked. And Apparently Nightwing was in the doghouse with some of his former teammates? She wasn’t sure how that worked.

She did know that Tim is sixteen, switched to Red Robin (she helped him design it as he’s bad at it and he wanted to look like he was 30 in his first design. 30. Just. No.) and said he had a thing to do.

Marinette and Adrien shared a look.

“I’ll watch the kwami.”

One list of kwami-care later, and Marinette switched to online classes for the year to keep her not-technically baby brother/her idiot out of trouble. Did she mention ninjas were involved? They were. it was a nightmare and she may have let Red Hood know about the League and he may have shown up to help her keep Tim from getting brainwashed.

Oh, and only at that point did anyone bother to tell her about Bruce being missing-missing not just Off-World or on a real vacation-missing.

Tim explained his hunch (because it is a hunch Timmy, and now we have a semi-solid theory) and she just sighs and calls Adrien to meet her in Gotham.

Fluff won’t tell them where (spell stops it) but confirms Bruce is lost in time. Jason is shocked, Dick and Damian are processing, Alfred is bordering on tears and Tim is victorious.

He also calls up the teen titans for help and they get Bruce—Tim and Adrien’s Father figure, not Batman.

She shakes her head and lets them have their reunion, kwami content at her side.

She goes back to Paris as its home now, and works on rebuilding the order in between nagging Tim about his health (he fears only her and Alfred apparently) and harassing Jason about doing his coursework (apparently she, Maman, Papa and Alfred are all effective there).

She’s able to say her parents were right about Paris being good for her, but she doesn’t think Gotham is bad for her.

--

hope you enjoyed!

[qlala]

Thoughts abt coldwestallen?? Honestly I love them and wished we had more of their interactions :// I genuinely feel like iris and leonard are similar in lots of ways tbh despite the whole moral thing yknow

I LOVE!!! coldwestallen!!!! I’ve been working on a fic for them on and off for a couple months, it’s about 30k right now which is my longest yet! honestly the reason it’s taking so long is because I’m being such a perfectionist about it, I really really like it and so I want to really do it justice and not cut any corners. (this is, incidentally, the same thing I did with ‘those three words’—I think my first big contribution to a ship is something I’m always gonna overthink)

and I’m right there with you about wishing we’d been able to see more of them on the show! Iris only gets to interact with Leonard in two high-stress situations (Leonard breaking into Joe’s house to warn Barry about the ambush, and when she’s literally hours away from dying in “Infantino Street”) and even then there’s sooo much there, like wow what I wouldn’t give for just one scene of them of them working together under lower stakes. 

I’m gonna flag an abuse mention tw for rest of this answer, because I think Leonard’s past deeply informs the interaction we get between Leonard, Iris, and Barry in “Running to Stand Still.” I won’t be going into detail, but I do want to discuss it a bit, so heads up for that!

I’ve seen people give Iris a lot of unfair grief for saying “Everyone in this room had a rough childhood” to Leonard in “Running to Stand Still,” but it’s important to remember that she wasn’t there for “Family of Rogues.” Cisco is actually the only member of Team Flash that has anywhere close to the full picture of the abuse Leonard and Lisa suffered growing up; he’s the one Lisa tells about the “lessons,” and Leonard protecting her. I think giving Iris that line was a bad piece of writing, but not unjustifiable; she’s in direct physical fear for her life (she has no reason to trust Leonard the way Barry does—not that he really has good reason either lmao) and Leonard is baiting her into reacting a certain way. 

because I love to read Leonard’s line before that—”Didn’t Barry tell you? I had a rough childhood”—as being an intentionally flippant comment because he’s deeply uncomfortable that Iris is there. it’s clear from everything about his body language in the scene that it’s not going the way he expected; I think Barry is far angrier than Leonard anticipated finding him, and he has no idea what kind of variable Iris is. I mean, he barely looks at either of them the entire scene. he’s wildly out of his comfort zone, and quite frankly, it goes terribly from the get-go.

so when he says that line, he makes it sound like he’s mocking Barry for believing that his childhood had anything to do with how he is as an adult. (it did, of course; Leonard admits as much in “Infantino Street,” when he says to Barry, “Always known you had the potential to be ruthless as they come. Your history made sure of that, same as mine.”) Leonard prefaces it with “Didn’t Barry tell you?” because he doesn’t know how much Barry told Iris, and that bothers him. he’s not in control of his own narrative. Lisa was the one who told Barry about the abuse, after all, not Leonard, and that’s a deeply, deeply personal thing to have someone find out about him through a third party, even if it was Lisa.  

and I think Leonard hates the fact that the story is out of his control. using it as a prop that he knows Iris will knock down is his way of trying to reassert some of that control. he’s baiting her, and it works—Iris does exactly what he hopes she will, discards his “rough childhood” from the conversation with that equally biting remark, “Everyone in this room had a rough childhood,” and just like that, Leonard’s ensured that Iris will neither pity him nor see him as vulnerable because of his abuse. so uh, score one for Leonard! unless we’re talking about confronting your trauma. in which case, score zero for Leonard.

I really would’ve loved to see any discussion of that conversation after the fact. there’s no way Iris wouldn’t realize what had happened; she has such high emotional intelligence and empathy, I think she would’ve been pretty pissed with herself later, as well as annoyed with how easily Leonard got under her skin that. I mean, he provoked her into a pretty wildly out-of-character bit of insensitivity; she’s not going to be able to make fun of Barry for getting all out of sorts whenever Leonard is around anymore. 

which is a ship dynamic I love. one emotionally unavailable, affection-starved asshole who’s wary of changing but ready to try anyway, versus two very emotion-forward heroes who are nonetheless extremely easy to wind up? amazing. pair that with what you said, anon, about Iris and Leonard being similar in a lot of ways—they’re natural strategists, they’re intuitive, they have very little shame about going after what they want, and they have a weakness for pretty boys who are the opposite of all those things—and there’s really nothing I don’t love about this ot3. 100/10, they’re fantastic

[c-is-for-circinate]

On Good Omens, queerbaiting, and heteronormative bullshit

Theory: Good Omens the miniseries and the way it treats relationships feels maybe a little weird and hits some of the same mental buttons as queerbaiting not because Aziraphale and Crowley are insufficiently gay, but because the entire rest of the show is.  In this essay I will actually write this essay, because no, really, I think it’s A Thing and I might even be able to prove it.

There’s a lot of nuance to both sides of the whole queerbaiting/not-queerbaiting argument, and I don’t want to neglect any of it, but I think my big takeaways have been as follows:

On the ‘this is uncomfortable and queerbaity’ side:

Good Omens the miniseries ramps up the emotional relationship between Crowley and Aziraphale to be the heart of the entire show.  Both demon and angel are coded as gay in a number of different ways, both individually and in terms of how their relationship is portrayed as a romance.  And yet despite being the core of the show, they never make any of it explicitly romantic.  There’s not a kiss, there’s not an ‘I love you’.  The entire relationship is built from implications rather than explicit statements.

Years and decades and centuries of storytelling have given us gay relationships that we have to look for.  That we have to find in implications rather than explicit statements.  Sometimes stories were written that way for plausible deniability, so that content creators could keep mainstream/straight fans happy while also luring queer fans with crumbs and promises.  Sometimes stories were written that way for plausible deniability, so content creators could slip hidden gay messages past censors.  Sometimes stories were written that way for plausible deniability, so content creators could stay literally, physically safe.  But either way, it’s exhausting.  It’s been so long.  We want to see ourselves on screen.  We want somebody to admit out loud to what we’re seeing.  We’re tired.

Also, when things get heated: the opposing side are apologists and boot-lickers, ready to bend over backwards to defend their Precious Author Faves in hopes of receiving whatever crumbs they can get.  (Please note: this is an ad hominem argument with like ten different logical fallacies in it, and also it’s just mean.  We will be assuming that all parties in this discussion are attempting to act in good faith with a healthy dose of frustration, and largely ignoring this point.)

On the ‘no, this is Good Representation, really’ side:

Aziraphale and Crowley are in a queer relationship--it’s just not a gay one.  They are two genderfluid beings who mostly present as male out of preference or convenience, surrounded by additional similar genderfluid beings who may present as male, or female, or both, or neither.  Their relationship is both romantic and asexual.

The fact that those ‘explicit milestones’ of kissing, sex, etc are absent from the show is in fact part of the point.  Not only does it make sense for the characters themselves, but it means so much to see a relationship that is obviously romantic, that is the center of an entire story, where the key turning point is about something other than sex or marriage.  A relationship can be super important, can be important enough to build an entire life around, without sex, without kissing, without wedding rings.  It’s so good to see one that is.

Also, when things get heated: the opposing side are aphobes and probably transphobes, whiny babies who don’t really care about representation, they just want their kind of representation.  (Please see above note about ad hominem attacks and logical fallacies.

There are a few points that everyone can agree on.  Crowley and Aziraphale follow the plotline of a romance, and their relationship is the core of this show.  They do not kiss, or have sex, or explicitly fall into any behavior that conventionally says, ‘yes, this human couple is dating’.  Other characters in the show mistake-them-for-dating, but those characters are always uninformed about the real complex nature of this relationship.

One side says: it all comes so close to being a thing we so rarely get to see, to reflecting ourselves on screen.  Why promise and not deliver?  Why come so close and then shy away?  Aziraphale and Crowley, with all they are to each other (with Aziraphale’s shop in Soho and his time in a discrete gentleman’s club, with their so-religious families that will disown them or worse for this relationship, with everything they are an have been) are a metaphor for gayness that refuses to commit past the point of metaphor and just admit it already, and it hurts.

The other side says: it has exactly hit the nail on the head of being a different thing we so rarely get to see, to reflecting a different portion of ourselves onscreen.  It just so happens that the thing it’s reflecting is by nature a little confusing and undefined, is close to the kind of queerness you’re expecting without getting there.  Crowley and Aziraphale (who’ve been alive for six thousand years, who have seen so many different ways humans love each other and swear to each other, who are not bound by our conventions or definitions and maybe show us that we don’t have to be either) are a metaphor for nothing.  They parallel a lot of familiar narratives of a lot of kinds of queerness, without trying to be anything but what they are.

Two sides, everybody so starved for representation that they’ll grab for it and name-call and scrabble desperately when they almost get it.  One relationship.  One divided fandom.

.

Look, it is obvious by this point that this is a case of everybody fighting over our one specific instance of representation because there isn’t enough to go around, right?  If gay relationships were more common throughout fiction, it wouldn’t be so important that Aziraphale and Crowley were among them.  If ace relationships and alternative relationship dynamics were portrayed as frequently or given as much weight as sexual ones, it wouldn’t be so important.

And it’s not just about what’s important, it’s about what’s noticed.  If there were gay relationships--or if there were ace relationships, or other kinds of queer relationships!--all over fiction, then being explicit would matter so much less.  It is important, in this world, that queer relationships in fiction announce what they are out loud, because in this world they are so often brushed over or ignored.  They have to clear a much higher bar than conventional straight, sexual relationships.  If there were more representation in the world, everybody would be primed to notice Aziraphale and Crowley as a romance.  We wouldn’t need it spelled out--one, because we’d already know, and two, because it wouldn’t be such a big deal if somebody else didn’t.

Of course, there’s more representation these days than there used to be--little dribs and drabs of it all over.  There’s just enough out there that somebody can say, ‘look, we’ve seen basic gay romances, let us have this thing here, let us have this nuance’.  And meanwhile half the audience (who may be gay, or bi, or ace, or transgender or genderqueer themselves in all sorts of ways) is gaping, because...okay, maybe gay romance exists in some places, in corners, but there’s still so little of it.

We’re all living on crumbs.  It’s hard to appreciate nuance when you’re just a few steps past starving.  It’s hard to appreciate the grace of ambiguous and open endings when you’ve seen them twisted against you again and again, and you just want something that’s yours.

.

Here’s another thing, an important thing.  Humans are used to seeing patterns and we’re used to seeing stories.  It can be very hard to tell whether a storyteller is trying to give us something new and strange told well, or something more familiar told badly--especially if we’re used to seeing the familiar thing told badly.

And: if the audience cannot tell whether an author is portraying Thing A well or Thing B badly, at a certain point it doesn’t really matter which it is.

And: sometimes the only way to tell if a story is trying to show you Thing A and succeeding or Thing B and failing, is to look around the story to see if you can spot Thing B done right, anywhere else.

In other words: How do you make a difference between an audience that is collectively sure that Crowley and Aziraphale are some specific, slightly-hard-to-define but very definitely queer thing (and sometimes being hard to define is an intrinsic part of queerness), versus an audience divided amongst themselves over whether or not they’re just a bad, cowardly approximation of ‘gay’?

You put actual, explicit gay somewhere else in the story.

And that’s where we run into problems.

.

The problem with Good Omens the miniseries and how it does queer representation, how it does Crowley and Aziraphale and their romance, is the same problem that Good Omens the miniseries has across the board.  The problem is that half the writing team is gone, and so is half the story.

In the miniseries, Aziraphale and Crowley are, hands down, the main characters.  This is their story, and everyone else around them--Anathema and Newt, the Four Horsemen, Heaven and Hell, the Them, and even Adam himself--are just bit players.  I don’t fault Neil Gaiman for that, exactly.  I’m sure he did his best, and his best meant he poured the heart and soul of the story into these two characters and the relationship they share.  He gave them as much richness and depth as he possibly could.  (That’s part of why we all love them enough to fight over them.)  But the fact is, the rest of the story around them suffered.

Adam and the Them, Anathema and Newt, even Madame Tracy and Sergeant Shadwell--humans, all of them, and very much the people who actually stop the apocalypse.  Considering the way Anathema kick-started Adam along his path towards Armageddon, they’re even the people who started the apocalypse.  Very, very fundamentally, Good Omens is a story about how humans don’t need heaven or hell--not to be evil, not to be good, and not to keep being human.  Except that the miniseries wrote the humans off to the side, and that cracked things a little.  In some places, it cracked things a lot.

Don’t get me wrong: I love the miniseries.  I love Crowley and Aziraphale at the heart of it, and the richness and depth of their relationship.  I love the story about how an angel and a demon are so very very human, even though they think they aren’t.

But it’s a story that only works with enough of a contrast.  We can only appreciate Aziraphale and Crowley as an angel and a demon who’ve become very-nearly human if we know what the differences are in the first place.  We can only appreciate their similarities if we see enough humans acting the same way: with want, with fear, with desire, with pettiness, with love.

The difficulty with the miniseries is that we see a great deal of Crowley and Aziraphale being full of very, very human emotions and reactions.  We see their worry and desperation and how much they care about each other.  Nothing we see from any other character in the whole show comes close.

Anathema lives a life in service to (a prophecy, not a Host, but is it so different?) a thing she doesn’t quite understand and nobody can explain to her, that she just has to trust--but we see Aziraphale deal with Gabriel and Heaven again and again, and we see so little of Anathema’s fear and doubt.  Newt is fired from (a nothing job, not God’s endless love) a world he vaguely understands but isn’t good enough for, and finds himself in a strange, confusing place where he’s probably smarter than his boss and everything smells a bit weird and it might technically be his job to hurt people except maybe he doesn’t want to--and we get none of it, compared to what we see of Crowley, six thousand years post-Fall.

Adam is human and not-human, full of powers that can bend the world around him to his whim, that can make things how he thinks they should be.  He decides not to, because of love and selfishness, because he’d rather be human.  He makes the exact same decision Aziraphale and Crowley make.  We just get so much less of the weight of it.

The thing about telling the story this way is that it turns Crowley and Aziraphale into the only real people in the whole show, with everyone around them in silhouette and abstract.  It stops being a story about how this angel and this demon are, effectively, exactly the same as everyone else--oh sure they’ve got some differences, powers and abilities and age and shape-shifting (and mutable gender, and vague non-existent sexualities), but hell, people in general are full of differences in all of those things anyway.  

All of a sudden, the differences between baseline human and celestial being start to feel weird and cheap.  If Aziraphale and Crowley are the only real people in the story, and they’re not reacting in the way most people would react--it’s not just because they’re individuals, with specific individual wants and needs and reactions.  It’s either a statement or a weird error.  If the only real people in the story aren’t people, everything starts to fall just a little bit apart.

.

And so we come back around to sexuality once again.

A deeply, deeply unfortunate side effect of the Good Omens miniseries fleshing out Heaven and Hell and neglecting the humans is that all of the queer content--all of the nonbinary characters, our one shining non-heterosexual relationship, all of it--went to characters who were not human.  It makes so much sense, on one hand.  That’s where all the new depth came from, so of course that’s where all the new queerness went.  And why should non-human characters subscribe to human definitions of gender and sexuality?  Of course they wouldn’t.

Because, right: the idea that sexuality is in and of itself a primarily human thing, which most non-humans lack but some experiment with for fun (and that is Word of God and that is explicit in the text of the show and the book)--that idea’s not actually inherently bad.  The idea that sexuality is a requirement of humanity, that it comes part and parcel with love and ‘becoming more human’ (which is, after all, the best thing you can do according to show or book)--that idea is in fact bad.  But if all of your desire for sex goes to your humans AND all your queerness goes to your non-humans...that gets real unfortunate, real real fast.

The problem is, just like the show neglected to give the full depth of human characterization and emotion to its actually human characters, it failed to give them the full depth of human sexuality and gender, too.

The humans in Good Omens are painfully heterosexual.  It’s not simply that the Newt/Anathema and Tracy/Shadwell relationships are straight--it’s that they fall into place as though straight is the only choice.  Both relationships are so very much a picture of no other options.  Anathema and Newt are facing the end of the world, about to probably die, and also have been prophecied to get together under these circumstances for centuries.  Shadwell and Madame Tracy are both very deeply alone, and getting older, and if they want to be anything but alone their only choice appears to be each other.  These four people appear to default their way into traditional m/f relationships, whether it’s falling into (under) bed or moving to the country to retire together.  They hit all of those ‘explicit markers’ we were talking about before, and they don’t do it with emotional build-up.  They don’t do it with any real exploration of the individuals involved or why they’re making these choices.  There’s barely any acknowledgement that these are choices.

The thing is, gay humans do exist in the world of Good Omens!  We spend time is Soho, and we hear about a very specific extremely gay gentleman’s club, and we know it’s there, somewhere, hidden.  We just never get to see it.  Crowley and Aziraphale (who are our only touchstone to those queer areas, which the other human characters never seem to encounter) are the Only Queers In The World.  And it sucks, and I think it happened completely by accident.

I suspect that the lack of human queerness was literally just a side-effect of the lack of human anything--Crowley and Aziraphale are in fact the only queers in the world specifically because they’re the only people in the world.  None of the already-existing human characters were given enough additional development to add much of anything, including any new gay.  The human world of Tadfield and the Witchfinder Army wasn’t given enough development to make it worth creating any new characters, let alone queer ones.

It just means that, all of the sudden, straightness gets accidentally equated with every single non-child human we spend more than two lines with, and queerness becomes exclusively the province of demons and angels.  That’s really bad.  It’s one of those unfortunate accidents that happens sometimes, because the world ain’t perfect, but it’s pretty not great.  And that’s where our problems come from.

In particular that’s where this current debate comes from, because if sexuality = human and human = straight, and nonhuman = asexuality and queerness = nonhuman, then we’ve accidentally said some pretty damning things about humanity and equated all queerness with lack of sexual desire all at the same time.  And it’s subtle, and it’s easy to miss, because it’s all about a lack of queer humans that’s all mixed in with the lack of humans at all, but it feels off.  So we go looking for reasons and we go looking for scapegoats.  It’s so easy to fixate on and blame the only queer relationship (the only developed, real relationship) we get at all, writ huge and impossible-to-miss all over our screen, rather than all the invisible ones we don’t.

.

Here’s what I take away from all of this: Crowley and Aziraphale are, in every real sense, the most important characters in the Good Omens miniseries, and their relationship is without doubt the most important relationship.  It’s a well-developed, believable relationship.  It’s neither a straight relationship, nor an explicitly sexual gay relationship.  It is a different thing all its own, a thing that does not easily fit conventional human labels, that may or may not include sex at some point but certainly does not require it to be devastatingly important.

And I like that.  I, me, personally, who would rather find a reason to feel heartened than a reason to feel angry, am really glad to see something so extremely not-straight at the emotional center of a story I care about.  That’s me.

In the absence of anything that is an explicitly sexual gay relationship, this nebulous complicated thing at the core of this story looks an awful lot as though it’s trying to be gay and not getting there all the way.  And that sucks.  And for a lot of people, that hits some very specific buttons that have been made tender over many years of stories that try to be gay and refuse to go there all the way.  The flaw, though, is in the contrast and the context around the relationship--not in the relationship itself.

Stories are hard.  Telling stories, and making sure that they get heard on the other end the way we want them to, is hard.  Figuring out why certain things resonate the way they do, why some people feel connected while others feel alienated when we’re just trying to make our point, is sometimes the hardest thing of all.

I don’t blame Neil Gaiman for not magically figuring out that this would happen with the story he was trying to tell, partially because I haven’t seen anybody else in this great big argument of ours notice it either.  He tried to tell a story that was similar to but distinct from a story a lot of people wanted, and he didn’t make it clear enough.  I still really like the story we got.  I like all the slightly-different fanfic versions, too.  I like liking things.  That’s me.

If you’re still mad, if you’re still hurt: legit.  That’s valid.  But I don’t think arguing over this one specific relationship, what it Should Be and Shouldn’t Be, is helpful.  

Basically: I don’t want to sit around getting angry at each other over why Crowley and Aziraphale didn’t get the same traditional markers of Happily Ever After as Newt and Anathema, as Tracy and Shadwell.  I want to know why those couples didn’t have to (didn’t get to) EARN their happily-ever-afters with all the feeling and wanting and fearing and deciding that Aziraphale and Crowley did.

[spookbusters]

Moments with an ‘82 Album

Summary: Hargrove’s s/o lends a helping hand to his sister

Pairing: Billy Hargrove x Reader // Word Count: 1.8k // Warnings: None!

A/N: School started kicking my ass again, then life started kicking my ass. This fic has a lot of Adam Ant references, but I hope you like it nonetheless!

Knock, knock, knock.

You grin as the door swings open to reveal your boyfriend. When it first opens, he looks uninterested, but the moment he realizes it’s you, his face lights up. “Babe,” Billy smiles, and you press a kiss to his lips as you enter. He watches you move to drop your backpack on the couch and toss your hair up into a ponytail.

“I don’t remember us planning anything today,” he says, walking to wrap his arms around your waist, “Although I’m not complaining.”

“That’s because I’m here to help Max get ready,” you explain, “The Snow Ball’s tonight and I promised your mom I would come help her get ready.” Billy frowns a bit at that, and as you’re heading down the hall he’s hot on your heels. “You mean you’re not here to spend time with your adoring boyfriend?”

You turn around a bit before Max’s closed bedroom door. “I’ll make it up to you, baby, I promise,” you pout, “We have to stay around the school to pick up Max from the dance anyways. So after we drop her off, how about we catch a movie?” You receive your boyfriend’s million dollar smile, genuine and bright. “Alright, I can live with that.” A small giggle bubbles up from within you.

“I’m so glad you can find it in you to work with me,” you say, although it sounds more like an ‘I love you, you goof’ to him.

You knock on Max’s door, opening it at the soft “come in”. Both you and Billy peek in and you feel your excitement return full force. “Hey, Max.” Her head pops up from the book she’s reading as soon as she hears your voice. “Y/N,” she says excitedly and jumps out of bed to give you a hug. The way she squeezes you so tightly around your middle makes your heart warm.

“You ready to get all done up? I promised I’d give you the full fledged royal treatment,” you asked, eyes looking over her gentle features. She nods, and you grin, turning to look back at your boyfriend. Billy leaned against the door frame, arms folded over his chest with the hint of a smile on his lips, “I’ll see you ladies later, yeah?” You nod, and watch him close the door the to let you start your work.

"Step one," you tell Max, "Is putting on the radio. Getting ready for a dance without a pre-party is no fun." Her radio was right next to her bed, so you drop the bags of makeup you'd brought with you on the mattress and start fiddling with the knobs. Never having been a real technologically savvy girl, it does take a minute or two for you to really tune into a radio station you were familiar with.

You immediately recognize the song that you unknowingly tuned into and nod approvingly. "This song is all about being your own person, even if you're famous," you explain, turning up the intro to Adam Ant's "Goody Two Shoes, "And tonight, we're making sure you have chance to shine with all you've got. In a way that’s all you."

You relished the moments you got to spend with Max like this. You knew it was hard for her with her mom being out of the house at work all the time and really having Billy around more than anyone else. While he was the absolute love of your life, he was hotheaded and difficult to deal with sometimes. Especially if you’re between the ages of twelve and fifteen, still learning how to stick up for yourself.

You sit Max down on her bed in front of you, cross legged, and start examining what she’d already worked on. “I see you’ve painted your nails,” you observe, praise in your voice, “This color is so cute!” Max frowned at them a bit, “Billy said the color wouldn’t match my outfit, but I still think it’s nice.” You roll your eyes a bit at that. Typical of your boyfriend with his “holier-than-thou” personality.

“I’ll let you in on a secret,” you offer, and her eyes widen, “Billy has no idea what he’s talking about. He couldn’t come up with a decent color palette even if you asked him to pick two out of three colors.” Max snorts at your commentary, and you give her a reassuring smile. “It’s gonna look amazing. You’re gonna look amazing.”

The first thing you do for Max is her eye-shadow. You opted for an earthy brown that drew out the cool blue in her eyes, with a pop of champagne in the inner corner. “Makes these babies look like the water of a river, with the sunlight shining right above it,” you noted, blending the shades.

Max, upon opening her eyes again, has an anxious expression painted on her features. The way her brows are softly knit together is obvious to you and you ask what the matter was. “You know,” she begins, “There’s this guy I kinda like and he’s gonna be at the dance. I’m just nervous is all.” The statement reminds you of how you used to be. Always afraid of the eyes of the people around you; afraid of judgement.

You had with Max the same little talk you had with yourself.

“Do you think he likes you back?” “I don’t know. I think so.”

Holding up a rosy colored blush versus a more orange toned one, you respond, “How do you know?” Max points to the orange tone, shrugging, “How’d you know Billy liked you?” Now, you had to think about that. For you and Billy, the transition into a relationship was so smooth, so natural, you didn’t really have to think about how you knew he liked you, you just knew it.

But after further consideration you were able to come up with something. “Billy was always really protective of me,” you began, swirling your brush in the blush, “And he always made it a point to reassure me when I was nervous or stressed out. I knew he didn’t act that way around anyone else.” You swipe the blush across the girl’s cheeks, admiring the way it’s fiery glow echoed her hair color.

“Well, then, I think Lucas likes me. He gets really defensive when Mike says I shouldn’t be in the party,” she says, a small smile on her lips.  “Well, my advice is to give it a shot then. You’ll never know if you don't talk about it!" She nods, an air of confidence and reassurance now swirling about her. That made you proud.

It made you feel nice that Max trusted you the way she did. If you and Billy’s plans together worked out, you’d be around for a long time. It mattered to you that she didn’t only like you, but made you feel like part of her life.

Not much time passed after that before you had finished the last coat of mascara on her lashes and pulled strands of her hair into delicate twists on each side. Ushering her to the mirror to look at her reflection, you were practically vibrating with excitement. “You look so pretty,” you gushed, hands fluffing up the natural curls she had.

Attention turns to your watch, and you gasp at the time, “We need to get you out of here or you’re gonna be late!” Loading the Hargrove’s into your truck is a swift event. “Seat-belts,” you mutter, cranking the engine. It’s fortunate that you’d learned some driving tips from your boyfriend because you manage to make a twenty minute trip in ten.

Max leaps out of the car as soon as you get there. “Thanks for everything, Y/N,” she calls with a smile as she runs towards the doors. Watching Max walk into the dance blooms a motherly sort of pride in your chest. It was something you couldn’t really explain.

“I really like spending time with her,” you confess to your boyfriend in the passenger seat. His hand comes to rest on yours, and he laces your fingers together. “She loves you, and I appreciate that you do all that stuff for her,” he runs a thumb along your skin, “Because I don’t think I can.” “I’m sure you could,” you comment, scooting over in your seat to lean against his shoulder.

The thought weighs on you. Nags at the back of your mind. Something you feel you want to say, but you’re not really sure if you should bite your tongue and save it for later. Alas, your emotions get the better of you this time and you can’t stop yourself from turning to Billy and nearly whispering your words.

“Do you want...kids?”

He looks away from the window at you with widened eyes. “Kids?” “Not right now, obviously,” you rush, “But, like, what about later?” The question hangs in the air, and there’s something deep in those blue eyes that makes you nervous.

You’d discussed getting married before, but never this. What if he didn’t want kids because he was afraid of being like his dad? You start to ramble, “It’s just that when I was spending time with Max, I really felt like a mom, and it was so nice, and I just thought about what it’d be like to have my own kids, and-.” What if he was afraid of royally screwing up? What if-?

Your mind is quieted when he kisses you.

It wasn’t like anything you’d ever experienced with him before. You’d kissed gently, and you’d kissed with all the passion you could muster, but this was a beautiful balance of the two that made you truly breathless. His free hand comes up to brush the back of his knuckles against your cheek, before cupping your jaw to hold your eyes to his.

“I love you so much,” he hums, an expression of pure contentment on his face, “Yeah, kids would be beautiful.” It feels like a confession coming from him. Big, bad Billy Hargrove admitting to his girlfriend that he wants to start a family with her. For as unsure of yourself as you were a few minutes ago, you sure were smiling like crazy now.

Nearly ten minutes pass where neither of you move. But you manage to gather yourself and mutter, “We’re never gonna catch a movie if we don’t get going.” “Yeah, you’re right.” You turn your engine over and plant one last lingering kiss to Billy’s lips, slightly muddled by the grins on your faces.

While backing out, your boyfriend flicks your radio on, and Adam Ant’s cover of “Hello, I Love You” bumps through your speakers. You gasp audibly, “Holy hell, that’s crazy!” “What?” You glance over at Billy and then back to the road. “When I was doing Max’s makeup, the first song I found on the radio was this same singer. Same album and everything.” He makes a face of interest and you nod pensively.

“I guess life is just what happens between Adam Ant songs.”

[huangsren]

hs!chenle ; can i call you my everything?

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 ; zhong chenle just wanted to find the perfect nickname for you.

part of @hwangdol and i’s hs!dream au >:))

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞 ; highschool!chenle au / childhood-friend!chenle / ft. hs!yukhei / fluffy / lw angsty

warning ; small mention of depression / cutting , (some) swearing / explicit langauge

zhong chenle x (fem)reader

you and chenle have been friends ever since you were both 12 and miraculously transferred to the same school at the same time

at that time, small chenle and you understood it’d be easier to befriend each other rather than trying to squeeze into the already made class cliques

since then, you and chenle happened to experience everything together-

the first crushes, failures, broken bones, embarrassing class reports, school field trips (which surprised you b/c,, what kind of kids go on their first field trip in the eighth grade)

and as you got older, first mental breakdowns, bad relationships/friendships, and bad fights; whether they were with each other, or against other people 

chenle never took you as the soft girl, you wouldn’t hesitate to kick the balls of those big-headed bullies, chenle was more scared for them than himself

you see and meet some upperclassmen that he somehow had the ability to befriend

some characters like the stoner-boy!haechan , playboy!jaemin (both by my bby @hwangdol ), and art-hoe!renjun

it’s inevitable that you two change somewhat over the years, but the one thing that never changed since the very first day you met was how chenle wanted to find you the perfect nickname

like this boy is just so set on finding something great to call you instead of your actual mf name????

the first week alone of knowing him gave you about 20 nicknames that we’re all passed up and forgotten b/c he says they just don’t capture what he’s trying to say about you

so every year, every month, every week, every day is spent with him casually tossing all kinds of names at you

from being names like “maybe i’ll call you chun-li, how about it chun-li?” 

to the most random things like, “so how’s it going, flipstick?” , “my mom said you should come over for dinner tomorrow if you’re free, cheeseball” or “yes! i got a better score than you, small-hands”

and for some reason chenle had this kind of infatuation with your hands b/c god knows why? they weren’t even especially small or pretty either but he would always mention or inspect your hand at least once a day

when he first held and looked at your hands, your twelve year old little heart may have thumped and pulled away

but by the time you two are 14, it didn’t phase you in the slightest, it’s just hands

in the days past he would hold your hand out in front of him, and you’d continue to do whatever you were doing b/c it was no longer unusual

it wasn’t ever odd to feel chenle holding your palm, with his eyes just looking so lovingly at the way your fingers would fold whenever you lost that game you were playing on your phone

he would casually play with your fingers and maybe rub your hand with his thumb b/c he was a naturally touchy person

at times it served a good purpose as it helped you know which girls were genuinely talking to you for you and not for chenle, and it drove away strange men when you two would go out 

and he happened to want to see your hand again

but sometimes it would take a turn for the worse and he’d find that you reached that low you hadn’t in two years, that low where you found it fitting to hurt yourself

on gOd, how much seeing chenle’s expression when he found out you hurt part of yourself gave you much more emotion and pain than that slit on your wrist

so you held it in most times, sometimes for chenle’s sake and sometimes b/c chenle gave you reasons not to

other times, you’re thankful he treats you like he would any other day b/c getting into it would definitely hurt more than the movie he planned to take you to 

since he knows the two of you have been waiting for the release date for the longest time

however, that indifferent, friendly feeling you had with him began to wear down once the third year of high school came by

it wasn’t a special day, no

but chenle came in with new hair, a slightly messed up uniform, a basketball held between his side and his arm, and this more mature look to him that you never payed too much attention to

and you have to admit, the thoughts of chenle and you being more than you are now were growing each time you saw him again

obviously you keep that on the down-low though, there’s only so many friendships to result in a happy relationship versus the amount that are just kept one-sided and unnatural after confessing

and today, you are once again thinking about chenle as more than just your friend

thinking about how it would feel to be together

how being in his arms would feel, how holding his hand in that way would be

the warmth of him all around you, knowing you’re a big part of the reason he’s smiling, running your hands through his hair,

doing silly things like trying to bake a cake? or trying to toss those tiny marshmallows into his mouth?

having the ability to tell him that he’s your sunshine over and over again?

you, without a doubt, know that being with chenle in that way would be one of the best parts of your youth

but you can’t bring yourself to do anything because, what if that feeling goes only one way?

what if the only reason chenle keeps you by his side is because he knows you won’t be phased by his constant clinginess, because he knows you won’t fall for him and stay as his friend without wanting more?

there are countless girls who are obsessed with him and his other group of friends, that’s why that group of boys he’s a part of are known as the “dreamies”

and you aren’t the only girl chenle finds time with either,

sometimes you have to keep yourself from wanting to make plans b/c you hear he’s already made some to go do pranks with his other friend-that-is-a-girl (aka y/n in jisung’s au!)

but when you hear chenle constantly coming up with nicknames for you, you can’t stop yourself from feeling that something

the something in your heart that won’t stop and you admit to yourself that you like chenle

you like the zhong chenle that you knew when you were 12 and you like the zhong chenle that you know now

which hurts so much because after coming to this conclusion, you see how significant the power he has on you is

he has the power to make you sad one second after you were happy, make you happy when you were frustrated just a second before, to make the butterflies in your stomach wild, and even the power to make your breath hitch in his presence

it really doesn’t help your situation when his recent nicknames have become a little more cute and loving than before

just yesterday it had been, “what’s up, buttercup” and he continued with that one until after dinner when you face-timed him for homework help and he says, “you’ve come to the right person, honey bun”

all of it made you cringe just as much as it made you all giddy inside and you internally swear by how much it affects you

“something wrong, ms. casanova?” and his eyes show real concern for the friend that you are and when you look into them through the screen, you know you don’t want to fall any longer into the angelic boy

you are fully aware of how off and silent you’re being, but you can’t stop feeling like it’s wrong for you to like him this way

so you take it into your own hands to stop before you’re in too deep

starting with asking him to put the pet names to rest

“chenle, can you stop?” you pause, “please?”

and he goes silent

his heart aches but he doesn’t let you see, all he does is say, “stop what? we can study more at lunch if that’s what you want, care-bear” and he smiles, trying to comfort you because he senses the way your tone got lower and softer

“no chenle, that’s not what i’m talking about!” you sigh, knowing that he’s intentionally dodging what you mean, “i just- i don’t want the nicknames anymore lele, i’m sorry”

as you explain, you look at your hands and twirl your fingers, not being able to look him in the face- and you’re right to want to avoid his look

because once you peer back up to that face on the screen, he has tears in his eyes and he’s trying hard to find some sort of regret in yours

but he can’t see any because you know what you want for the two of you and you are certain that doing this sooner will stop you from wanting more

“chenle, listen-

and the video call is over and a heartbeat later you get a text from him

“sorry, y/n. good night.”

you burst into tears yourself- full on sobbing

you didn’t realize how dark you’d feel hearing chenle call you by your real name even through a text

you knew it would make chenle sad if you told him to stop but you never imagined to see that pain in his eyes 

you cry for him for the longest time ; your chest taking in big gulps of air before letting it out in a shaky breath and it takes longer than you’d like to stop your upper body from trembling

and you fall asleep with a heavy heart, pillow soaked with the feelings you had pent up in you

but the next morning comes and you’re not ready to face chenle any time soon and thank the lord that instead of p.e. with chenle, you have study hall

so you keep yourself in the library, in the math/science section b/c, let’s be honest, it’s the least popular and the least crowded

while trying to distract yourself from all of chenle, you take out your phone and earbuds to watch your favorite anime

but that shady website just has to give you some kind of hentai pop-up before you even plug the headphones in 

which leaves you wide-eyed and panicked, doing your best to muffle the sound and plug the wire in as fast as you can

then you hear a chuckle from behind you and you turn around to meet wong yukhei, or lucas, the kid who only shows up to his homeroom and p.e. class- skipping all the other periods

and you freak out because this kid’s known for never holding his words back and so you get up out of your seat and walk over to sit next to him

“i’m not doing what you think i am” you say, not looking his way

“i never said you were doing anything” he replies, focus still on his phone

“oh come on, you laughed right after that um, noise went off and i was having a heart attack”

and then you turn his direction and can’t believe that you actually have to shift your gaze upwards because of how tall this kid is

“oh? i was laughing at this meme”

and he motions for you to look at his phone, so you do. and you lean over the arms of the chair to see his phone and chuckle at the fact it’s literally just some shrek shitpost

he looks down at you at smiles, oh what- what was that

perhaps this is what you needed to get over your feelings for chenle

you needed another person that had no relation to him, needed to be around someone who didn’t know you

someone you could rebuild yourself as the real you with, not worrying about how you’d fit with chenle

“stop staring at my eyes you weirdo, it’s just a meme” he says and shoves you back onto your own chair

so you’ve decided. 

“lucas, you wanna be friends?”

“please don’t tell me you’re trying to get dicked down or something” he rolls his eyes

“what? bOy- no i’m not trying that. i just think you’re the perfect person for me to be around until i get over myself” you say, making sure to emphasize that you’re even grossed out he thinks you want him

“okay, go ahead. i cant stop you”

“before you answer, i know how weird this is but- wait, for real? that easy?”

“dude, i couldn’t care less. you wanna skip last period? get some food?” he asks

now he’s standing up and dusting his pants off from snack crumbs and then holds his hand out in front of you

you nod and take his hand before he yanks his out of your hold

“um, i was asking for you to get my charger for me..”

“bitchass you should have said so, i thought you were being soft lucas”

even if you’re embarrassed, you reach and unplug his charger then hand it to him, rolling your eyes in the process (but really there’s a faint blush on your face)

“you’re kinda dumb for that, and my name’s yukhei”

“i thought you went by lucas?” you say, curious as to why he’d want for you to call him his given name

“nah. i’ll let you call me yukhei. consider it the highest blessing you’ve ever been given”

a month and some has passed since the night of your last call with chenle

but naturally, the pain of losing the friendship you had with chenle was still evident

just weeks before, it’d be heart-wrenching to just know you had to see him, 

but now you can make eye contact and smile a little his way

it wasn’t your willpower alone though, 

you admit that having yukhei by your side and him just giving you an outside perspective on the whole situation opened your eyes

of course he would call you dumb and stupid sometimes when you tell him about why you fell for chenle in the first place

but that one response he had in the macaron place stuck with you and he held a good point

“honestly, y/n, i may be dumb but you shouldn’t have beaten yourself up fro just having feelings. i mean, if you really, truly, like chenle, why did that happen so suddenly? what if you’re just in love with the things he did and not really him and you let yourself fall. i’m sorry if i go over the line, but you were going through, a time. maybe you just wanted to feel something”

that day it didn’t settle so right with you to agree with all that he said

you didn’t want to let the feelings you had for chenle seem so superficial and due to the fact you knew each other for the longest time, but he was right

you thought about how if it were yukhei in chenle’s place, you’d probably let yourself fall for him too.

it wasn’t chenle that your heart leaped for, it was just the things he did?

specifically just the two things he did : the nicknames and the hand-holding

and to prove your theory, you and yukhei made an agreement where he would also hold your hands and call you nicknames, which started two weeks ago

“yup, that’s it. we’ve got ‘em boys. i can’t believe how much i just like hand-holding and nicknames. wong yukhei, i like you” you tease him

truthfully this particular parlor was a spot you and chenle would frequent

but yukhei said he would create memories of it that didn’t have chenle, so here you two are

“oh please, y/n. you know how i actually feel about you. you can’t just say that, i know you like those two things, not me” he says and goes back to shoving ice cream down his throat

yes- lucas had confessed to you 

three days after you started the whole ‘experiment’, in fact

something about how his conscience wouldn’t let him treat you that way without you knowing how he really felt

but he didn’t let you give him an answer, he just told you how he felt and went on with it

you kind of felt bad for him, he was into you and didn’t know where you stood in all of this 

but he kept on helping you in hopes of your feelings to lean themselves in his favor

yet you couldn’t quite place where you felt for yukhei

for sure there were times where you might have wanted to even kiss him, but there were also times where you couldn’t imagine being his girlfriend because, man you two we’re just too close of friends for it to change

and maybe this is the way chenle would feel if you had told him the way you really felt

so after some deep contemplating, you decide that the next time you have the opportunity to talk to chenle alone presents itself, you’ll tell him why you allowed things to be the way they are now

you just didn’t know it’d happen so fast and that it would be in the ice cream parlor you and yukhei were in

“y/n? lucas?” chenle looks at you and yukhei who are alone and sitting across from one another

“oh, chenle. hey”

“sooo are you guys a thing now or..? because if you are i can’t believe you never told me” chenle asks you, pretending he doesn’t have a problem with it

‘i can’t believe you never told me’? he’s the one who never tried to spark a conversation after the whole incident anyways

“no chenle, we’re not dating” you say sharply, only those few words in response

“ahem. i think i remember y/n wanting to say something to you, chenle. maybe i’ll go and order some crepes for a really long time” yukhei says and slips out of the booth towards chenle, giving the boy’s shoulder a pat before proceeding to flirt with the cashier for snacks

“so, how are you darli-” he stops himself, “y/n”

and the same smile that you loved is on his face, but you can hear the sadness behind his voice and you crumble once again

“i’m... i’m doing the same as always. 

and listen chenle, 

i’m sorry for falling off with you after the whole nickname thing. the truth is that i, um, i had feelings for you. i wanted us to be more than what we were but i was afraid of rejection. well, look at us now, you didn’t have to reject me and i’ve already made us like this. i don’t know why i would give up all that we have, and yukhei, i mean lucas- he’s been nothing but kind when i tried to get over you and-”

“y/n. i miss you” chenle interrupts

“i- i miss you too lele”

then chenle takes your hand in his, a gesture you ever thought you’d miss

seeing him like this again, him saying he misses you; were you really only in love with the two things or did you love chenle?

“you have no idea how long i’ve waited for you to say you have feelings for me. you thought i’d reject you? baby come on, you’re the only girl i’ve had my eyes on for the longest time.

even the first day i held your hand when we were 12. i couldn’t believe you thought that was just a friendly gesture” he laughs, “i mean of course we were young, but really? i knew you were naive and i knew how you were hiding your feelings but i never gave up, peanut. especially when other boys would try to get at you, i didn’t suddenly want to see your hands, i was telling them that you’re mine. i even told my friends how much i missed you.

there was this one point where i thought, maybe we are better off as friends, it doesn’t hurt, yknow? but then my older friend mark? you remember mark, right? he set me straight and told me that i did, actually, have feelings for you after all these years. you know the nicknames? i think i have the perfect one. so y/n, can i,,, can i call you my everything now?”

“chenle,” you start, “i said i had feelings for you.”

and it’s true. 

you see the smile he has turn both confused and gloomy

maybe the you a month ago would have swooned into his arms and fell even more in love with his confession,

but time played with the both of you and you realize that you don’t feel the same way despite him pouring his feelings in front of you

you’ve come to terms that, yes, you were in love with zhong chenle, not just what he did

but that’s all in the past ; you had loved chenle, you just don’t the same way now

“is it because of lucas? y/n you’re gonna break what we have for him?”

chenle raises his voice at you and his eyes become a mix of anger and dejection

taken aback by his tone and the fact he thinks you would ever break the relationship you two have built over a boy begins to make your blood boil

“lucas? no chenle, this isn’t about lucas! and for your information, he’s not even a bad kid? i don’t even talk about how your best friends with upperclassmen who are either : 1, high or 2, breaking hearts! chenle, the reason why i didn’t say anything is because i valued what we shared more than what i wanted alone! and if you already knew i was trying to avoid the way i felt then why did you wait so long to do something? i can’t believe the nerve you have to blame this on someone other than yourself? sure it may not be entirely on you, but you’re literally acting like you’ve done nothing wrong! chenle, you were basically toying with my emotions.

you knew how much i loved you and how much it was hurting me. you know so much about me, hell, you have a better perspective of myself than i do! you don’t know how much my heart ached when you would drop our plans for your other friends, have no idea how heartbroken i became when i finally admitted to myself that i liked you. all you did was watch me go through it, not saying a word, not even trying to talk to me about it in person either! let’s be honest, you never thought of me that way until you realized i was gone.”

you take a second to breathe.

“i can’t do this chenle, i can’t. if you have anything more to say then shoot me a text because otherwise? i’m not taking any of your ‘but i love you’ shit.” you vent

and then you take your stuff and move out of the booth towards yukhei

“can we please go, yukhei?”

he sees the tears forming in your eyes and he takes your hands

“you don’t even have to ask. i got you y/n”

then he pulls you through the now crowded ice cream parlor and your head is down, looking at the hold yukhei has on your hands

you and yukhei reach the park near his house after how long of walking hand in hand and sit in silence on the swings

and once you feel stable again you perk up and say

“i guess i really did make new memories in that parlor”

and yukhei looks at you, stopping his motions

“i’m sorry it still had chenle in it”

and his voice sounds defeated, like he failed you

“hey, yukhei, don’t be so sulky” you smile at him, “i don’t want to feel like i have nothing anymore just because i dont have chenle, ya know? at least i have some calming memories in this park now, even if it’s with you.”

“yeah, at least there’s that.” 

[theheartofpenelope]

Simple Things : Chapter Six

Chapter six- excerpt : Tom sympathised. He listened and gently asked on about certain things but only when he felt she might be all right with it. He was there, ready to chase out the bad words and replace them with bittersweet nostalgic memories.

Tag list: @winterisakiller, @devikafernando, @scorpionchild81, @messy-insomniac-bookgirl, @smutsausage, @hiddlesbitch1 @noplacelikehome77 @wolfsmom1 @meh1217 @dina-bln @lilaeye39 @tinchentitri @fairlightswiftly @nonsensicalobsessions @wolfsmom1

Author’s Notes/Warnings: tags will follow later on Anyway thank you in advance for feedback - would love to know what you think…

Also on AO3 through this link Bonus: click here for the pinterest moodboard (always updated)

Chapter six One week later London versus Berlin - Hamburg

 1. London

The coffeeshop was buzzing with the usuals sounds of a lucrative business. Customers were happily chatting away, sounds of cutlery clinking against the porcelain chimed through the establishment while the coffee grinders worked at full steam. The waiting staff efficiently served all patrons with their trademark smile and hospitable air.

In the corner by the window Tom sat at a small wooden table, stirring his spoon in his fresh cup of coffee before glancing over towards Emma. He’d treated his younger sister to a cup of coffee and sweets as a thank you for her assistance with his shopping for a very specific gift earlier on. Passing by one of his favourite coffee places in this neck of the woods, it seemed only natural he’d buy her a ‘thank you’-cuppa.

Tom questioningly looked over towards his younger sister yet again while she thoughtfully kept paging through the brochure.

“You’ve made the right choice,” Emma finally murmured with a nod, “definitely. Perfect even.”

“Hmmm, you think?” Tom fiddled with the pages, slowly pulling the booklet back towards him and with a pensive frown, flipped through it again.

“My god,” the petite ginger pestered, “and this is just a little nicnac. What are you going to do when the poor child is actually born?”

“Oh, hardy har har,” he shot back, eyes still glued to the page, “I just want to do this right.”

“How very uncharacteristic of you,” Emma snorted before turning her attention to one of the coffeeshop’s newspapers, idly turning its pages and looking for anything and nothing in particular.

“They already have 2 little ones,” Tom sighed, “I want to make sure that its godfather is getting the little monster something they don’t already have. And yet something that’s meaningful...”

But it was clear the message was lost on his sibling who was now curiously looking at a specific article in the paper. A grin spread across her face, he could tell she was up to no good when she looked up at him with that mischievous sparkle he’d come to dread over the years. What now?

“Hey, isn’t that the ComiCon–lawyer-person?” she pointed out.

“Word gets out fast,” Tom muttered under his breath before sipping his coffee again. He reached his hand out and motioned his sister to hand him the newspaper. He was ever so eager to correct his sister on the reality of ‘this Charlotte-thing’ until his eyes fell on the cruel nickname in bold black print next to a snapshot of her. ‘Angel of Death’.

Tom was utterly appalled and furrowed his brows as his eyes skimmed the article. “Well this is harsh,” he mumbled. To him Charlotte - without fault - came across as a charming and eloquent persona, not the grim reaper the press were now suddenly labelling her.

His heart went out to Charlotte. It really did. She seemed to have crawled under his skin somehow; this warm hearted woman who had been ever so daunting towards the press from the start. He’d gotten to know her as an ambitious woman, who longed for nothing more than to set the record straight about who she was and what she stood for. It seemed so unfair for her, of all people, to get mulled the way she was.

“It’ll all blow over by tomorrow, I’m sure,” his sister relativized while trying to steal her brother’s scone.

“Still,…” under a lifted brow he playfully slapped her hand away while fishing out his smartphone. He typed out a message to Charlotte in which he expressed his concern, much to his sister’s delight. Emma tilted her head in an attempt to peer at the text, murmuring “it’s sweet though, that you care so much.”

When Tom - ever fast on his feet - quickly reciprocated with a “I would do the same for any other friend,” Emma couldn’t help but nod with a final gentle tease, “and how long ago did you two meet again?”

Tom slanted his head and raised an eyebrow apprehensively, “don’t…”

Emma held up her hands as if to convey him of her innocence, “I’m not. I’ve missed my big brother - indulge me in my teasing…”

He only shook his head in utter annoyance, “it is nothing more than a concerned friendly message. That is it. Be careful there or shall I start on your love life now?” a small grin lit up his face. “And besides, haven’t you read? I’m apparently seeing a mystery blonde now…”

“Well yes,” Emma caught on after taking another sip from her coffee, “I wàs wondering about that…”

“Can’t show my bloody face before they start snapping away and publishing rubbish,” Tom shook his head in disbelief before his sister looked up at him, positively beaming and no doubt fired up with one or two monkey tricks. And indeed, with a strange sense of pride she lifted the newspaper in her hands, revealing a pap-shot of Tom strolling down the street and cosily laughing with said lovely petite blonde, “rubbish big brother?”

“Ok, all right, all right,” Tom chuckled while turning a deep shade of pink, “I admit she’s a very lovely colleague. Good heavens, look at you - trying to get Luke out of a job little sister?”

“Just what I thought,” Emma delightedly winked, “so? Dating?”

“We’re working together,” Tom mildly protested, “it would seem highly inappropriate to…”

“M-hm,” Emma sighed loudly, as if to highlight she’d already heard that routine before.

Tom rolled his eyes in playful annoyance, which lured Emma into raising her brow before inquisitively leaning in and whispering, “now really. Tell me,”

“I don't know,...” he hesitated, “she's lovely, she truly is. But… ”

“Something is missing,” now it was Emma’s turn to roll her eyes in exasperation while shaking her head. When would he ever learn?

“Don't mock me,” he scolded softly.

“I'm not! I'm just wondering when the day will come when something is not missing to your standards…” She didn't want to seem hurtful, it was simply the truth.

Emma had noticed her brother had taken more than one step back when it came to dating these last couple of years. While it had originally been a very conscious and logical decision of his, she now often heard her mother worrying about the impact this decision was taking on him. And on second thought she found she would have to agree with her mother, on a certain level.

But then came the Hiddleswift-extravaganza, the whirlwind romance that knocked the family right off their feet. So much, so fast, so soon. However, at least he was breaking his solitude and that was, in a way, a good thing. After it fizzled out equally abrupt as it had started in the first place - and under the ever critical and even speculative eye of the (gutter)press no less - it was no wonder to Emma that her brother would step back from dating again for a while.

At first she thought he just needed to lick his wounds - wouldn’t we all? - but then new projects started following each other up in a vast tempo. As always. And what was worse, his emotional private life seemed even more neglected then ever before. Her brother was exhausted and haunted by his own thoughts, And now Emma didn’t know what to think of the situation anymore. Though she thoroughly hoped his current break could or would bring back the more happy and carefree brother she grew up with.

Tom exhaled loudly, “well, you’ll be happy to know that we’re going out for drinks soon. After the project wraps up. Just … don’t tell anyone.”

“Good! Very good. Also, my lips are sealed,” she gestured, delighted at the notions her big brother was getting back out there again. “but just remember, the camera’s are not.” She added with a well meant playful wink.

 2. Berlin

‘Angel of Death’ – the term haunted her more than Charlotte cared to admit. The words stung, they stung so bad.

Charlotte blamed her initial emotional reaction to the article on fatigue, because the gruelling pace of travelling all over Europe was definitely starting to take its toll. Also, the intense debates that repeatedly occurred at every Conference were slowly starting to get under her skin as well…

However still, Charlotte’s strong beliefs were suddenly shaking on their foundation. And while she wanted to power on through, she found she could not handle the backlash that was now coming towards her. Charlotte was raised to be diplomatic, to find an agreeable way to interact with people, to negotiate, to debate, not to tear someone down without mercy. To have the press do exact that to her was difficult to comprehend and impossible to forget.

Charlotte’s dad had called her as soon as the article came out. He’d tried calming his daughter by advising her to not pay any attention to it. “Bad press is press at the least. You’re doing something that matters, leave those nasty words behind, rise above it. Be strong, be proud and do not give up sweetheart.” But he failed to realise Charlotte was under heavy attack because of her personal situation more than her professional one.

You see, his wife and Charlotte’s mother was diagnosed with ‘young dementia’ and she was currently already residing in a memory care facility. That last step was a recent development after a new diagnosis confirmed she was in fact suffering from Lewy Body Dementia (*). Under the public eye, the written press very broadly analyzed and scrutinized Charlotte for simply "not practicing what she preached". They painted a very unstable and hypocritical image of her. “Euthanasia for those who suffer mentally but not your own mother? Come on now!” The press was relentless and paid no attention to the details that truly mattered, the same details that made every difference in the world.

Charlotte was amazed where the journalists had found all this background information, and was left utterly devastated at the harsh words at her address. More over Charlotte was exhausted and alone; craving the comfort of home, family and friends. She’d spilt hot tears under the shower that evening, it was the first time she’d allowed herself to shake her frustration and pain on the matter.

All day long attendees at the conference had either confronted her with the article and asked about her opinion, which was not the most pleasant experience, but others were worse and kept quiet in her face yet whispered about it behind her back. As if Charlotte didn’t know they were talking about her...

Her phone had been blowing up all day with a whole variety of messages and warm wishes from family, friends and even colleagues who knew there was more to Charlotte than what was so harshly put out in print. But Charlotte didn’t answer. She didn’t answer anyone of them, she was just done with it. And wished for the day to be finally over as well.

 3. London - Berlin

The night was slowly creeping in and hours had passed since Tom had sent Charlotte a text but she hadn’t answered. He realised he would surely not be the only one texting her, but still… usually she would respond to him one way or another. It seemed out of character for her not to respond, but then again this was an unusual turn of events….

Her silence plagued him, and so ultimately Tom took it upon himself to text Charlotte once more later that evening. To his surprise, he was rewarded with a quick cynical reply. Something he had come to know as ‘Charlotte-style’. His lips curved upwards; she wasn’t asleep yet. And because her words didn’t really convince him, he tapped the call-button on his cell.

Very quickly his thoughts were confirmed; her text message might have been cynical and morbidly funny in contrast her voice sounded clearly distraught and cracked with exhaustion. He was quite sure she thought she was hiding it well.

“You should distance yourself. I’m your publicist’s worst nightmare,” Charlotte pestered quietly.

“I didn’t hear back from you,” he spoke softly, “I was worried.”

“My phone is blowing up right now.”

“How are you feeling?”

“It’s ok, I’m all right. Bad press is still press, that’s what they say right?”

Tom couldn’t shake the feeling she seemed so short, curt even, in her replies. She was speaking rationally, distanced from the situation, vehemently prohibiting any emotions in her discourse. So he asked, he simply hàd to; “and now the truth please, Charlotte?”

A loud sigh on the other end.

Charlotte hated he possessed the talent of gently luring the truth out of her. And so she confessed to be feeling exhausted and annoyed.

Or no, make that ‘angry’ and ‘sad’.

‘Disappointed.’

‘Emotional.’

 And so incredibly alone.

She closed her eyes and rested her forehead on her hand. She could feel the tears stinging again and tried her best to hold them in. Granted, it wasn’t as if he could see them, but she desperately wanted to spill no more tears over the whole debacle. She found she would have to be strong and suck it up. Surely that would the best and fastest way to get over it. Utter denial, step over the issue as if it were no more than a nasty, muddy puddle on the pavement.

So yes, she would hide her tears. However her voice turned a bit hushed and a bit high-pitched as she cautiously fumed things along the likes of How or where do they get this information? Why does this matter? This is my personal life… Doesn’t anyone remember what I stand for? At all?

Tom sighed and tried to console her by confessing he could, in fact, relate on the matter somewhat and offered her his support.

“Please, then tell me, how do you rise above this kind of nonsense?” Charlotte sounded exasperated, “because I’m not the type of person to let things like that get to me, far from it. But I see it in print here in Germany, it’s in papers back home and apparently in the UK as well. And I can handle criticism, don’t think I can’t. But this?! This is almost a personal attack. God, I feel so judged...”

“Do you have the article there?” Tom was astounded, “do you have it before you? On paper? And you’re reading it? For the umpteenth time no doubt...”

“y-yes?” Charlotte groaned uneasily.

“Take it,” he ordered sternly, “do you have it in your hands?”

“Yes, why?”

“Tear it apart Charlotte,” he ordered simply, “really. Trust me on this one. Just rip it up, and rip it up good so you cannot possibly put it back together again. Then toss it in the bin. And promise me you won’t go googling for it.

Charlotte chuckled at his rendition of rigorous fatherly advice.

“Really,” his voice softened, “promise me Charlotte. “You’re an intelligent woman and I admire you for what you stand for. Do not let anybody tell you anything different. Ever. And what they printed about your mum, I’m quite sure that it’s just gutter-talk. You don’t fool me darling. Don’t let them get to you, all right?”

“Do you want to talk about it?” he paused and then reconsidered his words. “Would you tell me about her? Please?”

She felt his compassion cool her frustrations, his kindness covering her like a warm blanket. So Charlotte sighed, before carefully opening up about her mother's young dementia.

“It was just silly things at first, like forgetting where you put your keys. Then her vision worsened and she left the driving over to dad or my brother and me, which we didn't mind because we just got our driver's licence,” she chuckled at the long forgotten memory, “but then she stopped writing at one point... stopped having fun at it. She got all gloomy at times, isolated herself more at times.”

Charlotte paused, for a while, “she went for long walks by herself. Only later on we found out they were only ‘long’ because she suffered with finding her way back…”

Tom sympathised. He listened and gently asked on about certain things but only when he felt she might be all right with it. He was there, ready to chase out the bad words and replace them with bittersweet nostalgic memories.

“And I know she is good where she is now,” Charlotte concluded, “and she has her lucid moments. And she wants to live. So much. And that is her good right and we have to respect that. I just… I just don’t appreciate I'm being called a hypocrite because I'm refusing to take to euthanasia in my personal situation.”

“Don’t they get it?” Charlotte all but exploded, “it is not my decision to make. It is hers and she chose not to consent to that when she was lucid. Don’t they see how hard this is on everyone involved? It’s a lose-lose-situation and… oh crap … what's it to them anyway?”

On the other end Tom sank back in his seat as the reality of her situation sank in. “Oh Charlotte,” he spoke softly, his voice low and quiet, “I - I can't imagine how hard this must be.”

That. That one sentence right there. It came out as a whisper - a truthful confession. Charlotte could feel the tears stinging in her eyes and did her best to wish them away. No more, please no more tears.

“Thank you,” he added softly, “for confiding in me.” “When did you last see her?”

That did it. Charlotte hiccuped, her eyes welling up before new salty tears fell from her eyes, trickling down her cheek without relent.

“I'm sorry, Tom,” she breathed, “I'm just - I’ just so tired. The days are so long and exhausting...”

A feeling of complete powerlessness fell over him. There was nothing he could do but listen and talk. He hated he was not there to offer a handkerchief, to run his hand over her back in reassuring circles, to hug her or offer her a small smile in the hopes it would diminish her tears.

“Darling, don't apologise. It's been a while since you've seen her I take it... “

Charlotte nodded silently, not even aware he wasn't there to see it.

“Oh Charlotte,” he sighed, felling ever the more guilty, “I should let you sleep... can you sleep?”

She admitted she'd been tossing and turning for a while now. Her mind absolutely in turmoil. "But I'm glad you called," she confessed, while wiping her tears with the back of her hand, “so glad.” Because he knew what he was talking about, and he somehow had managed to calm her down somewhat.

"How could I not...."

Charlotte took a shaky breath and sighed - his heart broke for her.

“You know, I’ve been meaning to tell you, I caved,” he gently switched the subject, “you know Elena Ferrante isn’t all that bad…”

Charlotte smiled, aware of what he was doing.

“Shall I read you a little bit?” He never waited for an answer, but just flipped open the book and commenced. He could hear her rustling on the other end and imagined her curling up underneath the duvet, the cell phone glued to her ear still.

 “My friendship with Lila began the day we decided to go up the dark stairs that led, step after step, flight after flight, to the door of Don Achille’s apartment. I remember the violet light of the courtyard, the smells of a warm spring evening. The mothers were making dinner, it was time to go home, but we delayed, challenging each other, without ever saying a word, testing our courage. ….”

He read the rest of the chapter as though he was reading just for himself, taking his time and engulfing himself in the story. By the end of the chapter the sounds on the other end of the line had gotten very quiet.

“Charlotte?” he queried, “Charlotte darling,” quieter now, “are you asleep?”

He paused for a second to concentrate on the noises on the other side of the connection. Very vaguely he heard her steady breath; yes, she was most definitely asleep. A sense of pride and sweet affection came over him; a smile crept across his lips as he listened a little while longer.

“Good night my darling Charlotte, sweet dreams.”

And with that, he hung up.

[94pigeons]

Rez Day, Crucible, and a Warlock

For @newbabyfly, I think I may have figured out why Stoom changed teams in the middle of a match...

“Hey, Lynn! Lynn! Lynnnn!” Mihovanna’s voice slowly abolished the walls between Lynn-3’s peaceful thoughts to the chaotic room around her.

Miha had called her to a meeting, which was very uncharacteristic of the titan. Well maybe not, but it was uncharacteristic of Lynn to accept the invitation, as the warlock tended to neglect the responsibility of maintaining, let alone enjoying, time with Mihovanna. It was what they were to supposed to discuss that drew Lynn to accept the meeting. Well, “discuss” is a bit of a generous term when applying it to the current events. The meeting had been fairly one sided. When Lynn had sat down on her knees, Miha had gone off on a tangent about Ymir (their fireteam hunter), and her resurrection day upcoming tomorrow. The titan flailed her arms about in exuberant gestures while she had explained her plan to make Ymir’s day one of the best she, in the words of Mihovanna, “will ever have… until next year. Probably.” Somehow the titan managed to skim over the fact that she was rezzed before Oryx’s fall, which meant that the chances of one upping anything her previous fireteam had done would be unlikely. Her old fireteam had way more time to get rez days right.

Lynn had zoned out around the part where Miha had talked about bribing the Drifter. Not because it was a stupid idea (The Drifter did not strike Lynn as moral, and would probably accept a bribe), but because the idea seemed simply barbaric. But what was she to expect from a titan? A civilized plan? Oh please. The class prided themselves on their rambunctious, loud, nearly disrespectful nature. If there was such thing as a good plan, it came from a warlock. No exceptions.

So when Lynn had been unpleasantly pulled out of her thoughts by the obnoxious repetition of her name, there was only one good response. “Let me handle it, Mihovanna”.

The Titan’s smile grew, excitement glimmering in her eyes. “Don’t worry!” Miha said, puffing out her chest in pride. “I already took care of it! I figured with you so busy with the whole fireteam Lamril situation and all, I’d better...” The Titan’s voice became softer and nearly incoherent as Lynn tuned her out.

Of course Miha had dealt with the situation. She was what, a year old? What else was she ready to do but cause problems for her.

Without another word, Lynn got up and left. As the door closed behind her, she could still hear Mihovanna talking.

The next day….

As a part of Ymir’s rez day, Mihovanna had scheduled a “special” Cruicible match with her “friend” supervising. It took much reassurance to get the Awoken hunter to consent to the plans, but they got her to agree, and together, they prepped for a match. When the three of them had arrived, the enemy fireteam was already there. By the looks of things, they were doing a four versus four match.

The enemy team consisted of 3 hunters, and a warlock. Two of the hunters were awoken: one male, and one female. The female hunter looked very nervous, her purple locks kept cascading out from behind her ears. As they did though, she quickly scooped them back up and nestled them back behind her ear. Lynn tagged her as a kinderguardian. Possibly an easy target. Possibly. One couldn’t be too sure when it came to guardians.

The other awoken, the male, radiated a completely different energy than the smaller awoken hunter. He stood, broad shoulders back and arms crossed. Four lines of black paint (designating that he belonged to the Sixe family) fell down of either side of his face, from just under his eyes to down below his ears. This man had an aura of confidence. Lynn took careful note of him and moved on the the next hunter in line.

The next hunter, who, unlike the other two, was human. The frizzy bob cut blonde hair  gave the girl a sassy look. She gave Lynn a cocky smile with a tilt of her head, and whispered something to the warlock at her side.

The Warlock, like Lynn, was an exo, and appeared to be female. She, like the awoken male, seemed to be very confident. There was also something different about the Warlock across from her. Whatever it was, made Lynn shiver.

Turning her head, Lynn assessed her own team. Next to her was Ymir. Outfitted in armor with a rather pricey shader, Malchesidec Bramble, equipped to it. Lynn was almost excited to see Ymir don her helmet, which the hunter fiddled with in her hands. Ymir was intimidating when one could not see the emotion she expressed. Her face was light blue, and her straight bob cut hair was a darker version of the same color. Lynn noted Ymir’s twitching face. She was nervous. The white, barely visible U between her eyebrows was pushed together in worry. Her eyes, also blue, were skimming the enemy team. She too seemed to be worried about the outcome of the game. More so than Lynn was.

Next over was Mihovanna, decked out in chucky armor and covered the shader Ymir had given Miha when it was her rez day. Lynn recalls that Ymir had thought Metallic Sunrise complemented Mihovanna’s dark complexion. As much as the warlock hated to admit it, the hunter was absolutely right. The shader did look good on the titan, made her look experienced. But she wasn’t, and anyone could tell, especially at the present moment. Mihovanna was not assessing the enemy team in the little time she was granted to do so, but instead was whispering to her ghost, Pip, a wild grin on her face.

Lynn shifted her gaze to the spot next to Miha, and to her dread, discovered it was empty.

“Five more seconds” Lynn’s ghost, Ophilia, said.

Sighing, the warlock slid her helmet over her metallic head, and pulled her weapon off her back, getting ready for transmat.

Looking over at her fireteam, they were doing the same thing. Ymir exchanging a shy smile with the enemy team before she slid her helmet over her head and tugged her hood over it, shielding her helmet from Lynn’s view.

Then they were transmitted in. Over comms, Mihovanna let out a whoop of excitement as she charged forward. Ymir gave a barely audible chuckle, and rushed off to catch up with the titan. Lynn just sighed, and trudged forward. This would be a bad day.

Five minutes later…

Lynn and her team were getting crushed. Five minutes and no backfill was provided. Ymir was frustrated. Mihovanna kept charging in, having a blast but refusing to acknowledge the consequences of doing so. And Lynn? Lynn was pissed. Getting dragged into losing a game because of Mihovanna’s poor planning skills.

And the enemy team showed no mercy.

They split up in teams of two. The warlock and the frizzy haired hunter were together, and the awoken kinderguardian and the awoken male were paired up.

Anytime Lynn and her team attempted to take advantage and kill the awoken kinderguardian, her partner would swoop in out of nowhere and absolutely obliterate anyone within sight. Like some sort of protective papa bear.

After failing and trying multiple times with the awoken team, they decided to try and single out the other pair. They soon discovered that they had made a mistake trying to fight the hunter warlock duo. They had made a big mistake.

Once red had showed up on Miha’s radar, the titan charged in, getting stabbed in the face by the frizzy haired hunter. Standing over Mihovanna’s corpse, the hunter paused. Her helmet tipped to the side, and she dashed around a nearby corner. Frustrated, Lynn and Ymir gave chase, eager to add the hunter to their meager kill count.

After rounding the corner that the frizzy haired hunter had just a moment before, the duo stopped. The warlock stood confidently, blocking their path. The hunter was on her left tossing her knife into the air, catching it, then repeating the process.

The warlock laughed as she unleashed her Nova bomb on the two guardians. Lynn managed to barely avoid the Nova Bomb, taking massive amounts of damage. Ymir wasn’t so lucky. Scrambling backwards, Lynn fired her gun. It was in vain though, and the frizzy haired hunter flung her knife towards the injured warlock. It embedded itself between Lynn’s optics, smothering out Lynn’s last bit of health.

Back at spawn, morale was low and silent. Miha was in shock that she had just been stabbed by a knife, and Ymir was waiting for Lynn, knowing it would be in vain.

Ymir’s ghost, Antony, broke the silence. “A member of the enemy fireteam has left” he said, nonchalantly. “Looks like you three might have a chance after all.”

Miha laughed. “We’re gonna win now!”

Lynn stayed quiet and let Miha get her hopes up. It was good for the team. But then a notification popped up on her hud that read: “A new member has joined the fireteam”. It was quickly followed by a transmat next to fireteam Hazard.

As the special effects faded away, the fireteam’s eyes came to rest on a familiar figure. To their horror the three came to recognize the new guardian as the warlock from the enemy team. Out of the corner of Lynn’s eye, she saw Ymir spread her feet and raise her ebony pulse rifle to her shoulder, ready to shoot the warlock.

The warlock seemed just as surprised as Lynn was, looking around, confused.

Miha laughed again. “I told you we would win!”

After the match…

They didn’t win. But with the assistance of the warlock, Stoomdorm-2, their team had gained momentum. Lynn had to admit, finally getting kills felt good, even if they were just assists.

Miha was a bit down, since she was so confident that the team would win after Stoom had joined. Turns out, Miha had paid nearly all her glimmer to hire some shady guy in the tower to mix up the enemy teams and give her team the unfair advantage. It happened a bit late. But worth it. The expressions of Stoom’s former allies when they realized she had switched teams was priceless.

Mihovanna finished up the day going out to some obscure restaurant down in the city. They sat down at the table, and Miha grilled Ymir with questions about her day.

“What surprised you the most?”

“Probably when you found me at the memorial.”

“What was your favorite part of the day.”

“That unsupervised Crucible match.”

Lynn choked on her drink. “What? How the hell was that the best part of the day?”

“That other fireteam…” Ymir chuckled. “Reminded me of the good old days.” Smiling she took another sip of her water, lost in fond memories.

Miha, as if on queue, absolutely obliterated the mood. “Yeaaah, I remember you telling me about those guys. One of them is at the memorial, right?”

Lynn flinched, knowing this topic all to well, and the sadness it could bring to fireteam Hazard.

“Yes Miha.” How Ymir had so much patience with the titan, Lynn had no idea. “Kahlil was his name.”

Lynn was eager to get off this topic. She glanced around the room, trying to discover a reason to change the discussion. Luckily, it was easily found.

“Oh my Lord…” Lynn said. “Over there near the bar.” She gestured to a table with three hunters and a warlock sitting at it.

Miha exclaimed rather loudly, “It’s them!” The room grew quiet, and the occupants watched Mihovanna abruptly stand up, and stop over to Stoom’s table. The room regained it’s normal ambiance after Miha had sat down at the table with the other fireteam.

Lynn glanced at Ymir, who chuckled. “Nice save, but it could have been smoother, Lynn.”

Snorting the warlock rolled her eyes. “Well you seemed so fond of them, I feel like I should have pointed them out to you.” Lynn paused to take a sip of her beverage. “You should probably go over there, make sure Miha doesn't tell that warlock about that bribing stunt she pulled.”

Grinning, Ymir stood. “If you insist…” She chuckled as she sauntered over to join Miha and the other fireteam.

Lynn just leaned back in her chair, relishing the time she had to herself, and the laughter that filled the room.

[samurailovewriter]

5 Love Languages: Inuchiyo

Sorry for the absence! I’ve managed to write up one more (gigantic) essay about the next love languages for Inuchiyo this time. Honestly, this is HARD. I find this harder than assigning them MBTI because technically speaking, every lord in the routes express ALL five of these traits to MC and the people around them, so finding what matters MOST to LEAST is quite a challenge.

Please keep in mind this is COMPLETELY SUBJECTIVE! You are free to disagree! :) 

1.     Acts of Service

I finally chose Acts of Service based on an overarching view of Inuchiyo as a character instead of looking for specific examples. If there’s anything Inuchiyo has neverending support when it comes to the MC, his friends, and his lord, is that he always pledges and provides services often without being asked. Sometimes, it’s the little things that matter the most. Even though all guys offer MC to help carry her things or help around the restaurant, Inuchiyo is noticeably the one who does it without saying a single word. He just takes the groceries right from her arms, puts himself to work at the restaurant without anyone saying anything, and biggest of all: brushes it off as something that he’s always done and should be expected. It’s not even a “no problem” sort of attitude. It’s literally “I always do this, you know that”. It’s so instinctive and automatic for him to provide these sorts of services to those around him, but keep in mind it’s reserved ONLY for those who REALLY matter.

If there is a specific example I must provide aside from all the small things he sprinkles into the story, it probably has to do with Inuchiyo’s service towards Nobunaga. In the MS, he was temporarily demoted as punishment by his liege lord, yet that didn’t seem to bother or waver Inuchiyo’s loyalty in the slightest. Instead, that only served as inspiration to INCREASE the amount of services that he provided to Nobunaga, much more than he was required to do.

Last thing I will say about this matter – Inuchiyo pays close attention to the amount of work and chores the MC does. Maybe this has to do with the fact that he lived with MC as a teenager (MC a child) and know firsthand on the work that entails with keeping your restaurant as well as being a chef, but he’s more aware of when MC is actually overworking versus when MC is just doing her usual rounds. He pays attention to the details of those area, and always tries to make up for the extra work she commits by repaying her with some work of his own.

2.     Gifts

I think one of the best part of Inuchiyo’s stories is the amount gifts play into the storyline, and how it is something very intimate and special between MC and Inuchiyo. Does anyone remember the storyline where Inuchiyo was basically Santa Claus? Aside from the fact that continuously fulfilling the MC’s wishes is essentially an “act of service”, it is also at the same time a gift to be given – to not only her, but also ALL the other kids (poor guy must’ve been so tired and couldn’t wait for the winter season to be over).

More specific examples include: Inuchiyo keeping and cherishing the mudballs that MC used to make as a kid, him keeping her favorite flower that she pressed for him, him feeling sincerely very bad about losing it in the battle, him feeling especially touched when she sewed the gift he gave her into his armor to keep as a good luck charm, him literally CHOOSING A HOUSE for her as a gift (including the fact that her favorite flower would grow naturally there) and then making a flower crown to put on her head (with one of the cutest proposals to ever accompany it). Gifts mean a lot to Inuchiyo, and the gifts he gives also shows how much he cares about people. He doesn’t just give things to give things. He pays attention to the items that people really like and chooses them accordingly through that.

3.     Physical Touch

Physical touch is third because even though he has admitted to committing physical acts that leaves no emotional depths behind, it still mattered enough for him to rarely have done it. Aside from the trio of virgins (Masamune, Mitsunari, and Yukimura), basically all the other lords have had sex at least once before their time with MC. In fact, Inuchiyo has admitted to having sex before, but in his private thoughts have confessed to only done so twice, and each time left him feeling kind of empty inside and thus dissuading him from having sex with others afterwards (Oh, I hope he’s not locked himself in for the other storylines where he definitely does NOT end up with MC).

Consent, though a worthy and thankfully common theme amongst all the other stories, is more heavily emphasized in Inuchiyo’s. Part of it comes from the fact that he was about to do something he would really regret in his MS where he got terribly drunk, but at least in the ES, it comes from the fact that Inuchiyo’s very big on respecting MC’s space. He knows kissing, cuddling, and ultimately, making love, is a very big deal for her, and at the same time, means everything to him. As a result, she’s the one who tells him when she’s ready for certain things. She goes to him for cuddles, she pulls him close to kiss, and she has no qualms of giving him hugs when he’s feeling down.  

4.     Quality Time

So this was hard to put in the fourth spot, but I finally chose Quality Time as second to last not because he doesn’t provide quality time, but rather the amount of time he spends with others isn’t a direct comparison to how much people matter to him. I think the best example to provide here is the relationship he has with his older brother. Their relationship with each other is complicated, but I think it’s without question that Inuchiyo cares VERY MUCH for not only his older brother but also his clan. And then he runs off and disappears for YEARS, but in no way does that absence decrease or even eroded away Inuchiyo’s feelings of loyalty to his brother. He doesn’t need to spend time with someone to remain emotionally connected, and his tendency to run away from things that he can’t handle emotionally also adds to the fact that quality time just might not be at the top of his list.

My other example would be Inuchiyo’s guilt with his hand in the death of MC’s father. After his death, Inuchiyo physically distanced himself from MC’s family, and thus also effectively gave them less time to be together. She stopped seeing him stop by as much, something that her entire family consistently notes throughout the stories (except the one where he gets together with her and returns to the family). Does him doing that in any way actually diminishes the amount of love and care he has towards her? Literally 0%. That is why I put

5.     Words of Affirmation

Granted, Inuchiyo’s Words of Affirmation being last is FAR from the way Ieyasu’s Words of Affirmation being last. Ieyasu might have an overall lack of trust in words, Inuchiyo is simply not too great at it. Because let’s be honest, he’s not the most eloquent guy neither is he the smartest. It’s easier for him to use actions instead of words to get his thoughts and feelings across. He is the epitome of communicating through one’s fists (especially after this ES, where he couldn’t get what he wanted to say through Yukimura and opted to fight it out instead). As a result, he’s just not good at words of affirmation. In fact, sometimes, he says the EXACT OPPOSITE of what he’s trying to convey, resulting in some comedic arguments between him and MC (as well as him and Hideyoshi until the two actually fight).

And honestly, Inuchiyo doesn’t really need words either for MC to show her love. Her presence, her gifts, and her seeking him out for comfort and the physical body is enough to make him happy. Words don’t need to be exchanged between the two to strengthen the relationship in comparison to some of the other guys (though sometimes, yes, they both need to voice their thoughts a little clearer as well).

[tkmedia]

Devin Parker Marches Forward With Mindset of Always Being 'One Punch Away'

Monte Cox has been in the combat sports business for a long time, most notably as the manager of some of the best mixed martial artists to ever grace the Octagon or ring. As such, he’s seen the good, bad and the ugly of the fight game, something that gets amped up when he puts on his promoter’s hat. Subsequently, he’s not one to throw praise around lightly, so if he does, you listen. On August 14, Cox promoted an event in Cedar Rapids, Iowa. On the card was an unbeaten prospect and hometown favorite, Mitchell Leconte. His opponent was 39-year-old Louisiana native Devin Parker. It was the typical prospect versus veteran meeting, with the 4-0 Leconte expected to make it 5-0 at Parker’s expense.  That assumption didn’t matter to Parker.  It never has. And while his record entering the bout was 2-14, 14 of those opponents, including current junior lightweight contender O’Shaquie Foster, were undefeated when they faced him. So being the B-side is second nature to a fighter who never saw himself as being the B-side. “Those fights I took, when I took them, some of those guys were undefeated, some of them were amateur champions and things like that, some of them were Olympic alternates, and I never looked at those guys that way when I fought them,” said Parker. “I looked at them like equal competition and even though guys were telling me, man, you're fighting above your grade, I never really looked at it like that. I went in there with that mindset that I'm going in there to compete. That's just how I felt about it. I always went up in there thinking I had a chance to win. Even now, I feel like I can compete with the best in the world, and I never looked at myself as being under that, not knowing that you need to be pushed to that level and take certain steps towards that level. I just came out the gate thinking I could compete on that level and went for it.” More often than not, it didn’t work out well for Parker, who faced Foster in his second pro fight in 2014, went the distance with him, and continued battling it out with anyone and everyone put in his way. And though he didn’t win often, promoters could count on him because he always showed up in shape and ready to fight. He also showed up to win. That’s the difference between Parker and a lot of folks who share a similar won-loss slate, so when Cox called him for the fight with Leconte, Parker dusted off his gloves and mouthpiece and got ready to step into the ring for the first time since a September 2019 loss to Tommy Logan. “I had enough notice,” said Parker. “It was at least three weeks. I had a good training camp, and I came out to box, but the trip just got extended in between.” Parker expected to get a ride from Louisiana to Iowa, but when the person giving him the ride reneged, he decided to take a Greyhound bus to the fight site. It was no big deal for the construction worker, who had taken those bus trips to the Midwest before, but soon it turned into one. “I thought it was gonna be pretty easy,” he said. “With the rest stops that they make, I'd be able to do a little light training in between and possibly get there a day before weigh-ins and have time to rest before the fight. That's what I thought.” On August 12, Parker left New Orleans at 9am. There was a mistake on a connection and 12 hours later, he was in Houston. A new route was going to get him to Chicago…34 hours later. On Saturday, the day of the fight, Parker made it to Chicago at 10am. An hour after that, it was a six-and-a-half-hour bus ride to Cedar Rapids. At 4:30pm, Parker was picked up and brought to the venue. At 9:30pm he was in the ring. “I ended up getting re-routed to these different places and it ended up being two-and-a-half days on the bus,” said Parker. “And even though I was training and doing stuff on the stops, I wasn't able to really stretch out and get acclimated into fight mode because as soon as I got off the bus, I went straight to the venue and fought. So I didn't have any time to recover.” Normally, that trip would have taken Parker a day and a half. That’s still bad. “It's still bad,” he laughs, “but I've done it before.” At this point, the only question is why? Why not turn back, call it a loss, and try again for the next fight? Cox certainly would have understood, but Parker wasn’t having it. He was going to get to Cedar Rapids and fight. As Cox wrote in a Facebook post, he had the same question.  Parker’s response? “I said I would show up.” “I already made the commitment to come out there,” Parker explains. “After I made the commitment, it just seemed like stuff started getting worse. But I continued. I just made a decision. I had prepared for this kid, I had a game plan, but when I got there, I just couldn't perform. I couldn't make my game plan happen.” Parker got stopped by Leconte in the third round, falling to 2-15. “I gassed out, but it was the best fight of the night,” he said.  With a wife and kids to provide for, Parker can’t dwell on any setbacks in the ring, and he has to have a short memory. That doesn’t mean the lows of the fight game don’t affect him. “It's an emotional rollercoaster,” he admits. “The last couple of days have been hard because you have all the expectations, and when they don't go how you want 'em to go, you get down on yourself a little bit. I got down on myself, but I get little motivations every day to make me continue. Boxing and martial arts is my passion. It's something I love to do, and the fact that I can go out and get paid to do it, it's a plus for me. But, at the end of the day, I train to win, and I want to win, and I compete to win. There have been a lot of fights outside the fights for me, so it hasn't been good, but I have no complaints because it's a blessing for me to be able to even do it how I'm doing it now.” Parker will be back. He’s scheduled to fight on another Cox promotion in Iowa on September 25 against Mike Randolph. He’s even getting flown out to the bout, a welcome development after the Greyhound debacle. After that, who knows, but for now, Parker plans on continuing on this fistic journey, knowing that despite the odds stacked against him, all it takes is one punch against the right opponent, and then it’s the snowball effect: bigger paydays, bigger fights, more opportunities. That’s the beauty of the business, that for all the ugliness in boxing, when the bell rings, every fighter controls his own destiny. It’s what keeps Devin Parker going. “You gotta believe in yourself, especially under the circumstances I'm doing it with,” he said. “Most cases, I'll have a team, sometimes I go into these fights by myself, so I always have the mentality that I'm going to go up in there and win. I'm competing with the best, so I gotta be my best and I gotta do the best that I could. So I'm always giving myself a chance. It seems like people look at me as a fool because of that. They say, ‘You're crazy.’ But I believe in myself, and I know that I'm one punch away. I feel that in my heart.” Read the full article

[davidcarner]

Casey & Walker Ch 5, 6th Grade Romance

A/N: So, let's recap, in Ch 1, Casey tells Chuck Sarah is the mayor's daughter, in Ch 4, David forgot…I'm going to blame it on working on 4 stories at once…wait, 5…wait, there's the three you all don't know about, plus the rewrite…let's blame it on I'm old and forgot…so I have an idea, and it's basically taking a big ole lemon and using it to garnish a drink so we all forget about it…no…well, I tried. Huge thanks to sudhanva08 for some help, and a special nod to Wade1978 and the fic Chuck Versus The Yogurt Girl. Your fic inspired a little something in this one (If you've not read that one, just go do it now and come back later, it is sooooo good.) Welcome to Ch 5, 6th Grade Romance

Disclaimer: I don't own Chuck, but I do hope you'll check yes by giving me a review or sending a PM (I know it's cheesy, but I do cheesy so well!)

Casey pulled Chuck aside as Sarah walked away to make her phone call.

"Are you okay?" he asked. "This is the first chance we had to talk, but I told you Sarah was the mayor's daughter the other night."-

"Yeah, I know," Chuck said, "But, Beckman called and said the mayor was on the line and I got a bit full of myself, and just forgot.-" Casey studied him.

"Bull," Casey said. "You get full of yourself, but we both know you wouldn't forget something like that. You have that memory thing. What is going on?" Chuck looked to make sure Sarah couldn't hear.

"Look, I was a little preoccupied," Chuck said. "You know when I think about stuff I can remember it, but if I'm distracted or not thinking about something, I just can't remember off the top of my head."

"Got your gears tweaked?" Casey asked grinning. "Dreaming of dipping your chocolate in her peanut butter?"

"I've been under for a while, are those euphemisms for sex?" Chuck asked, honestly. Casey stared at him. "Look, she's kinda fantastic," he admitted. "She's funny, smart, nerdy, caring."

"Easy on the eyes," Casey said.

"Every time she looks into my eyes, I get lost, Casey," Chuck admitted.

"I think those are lyrics to a bad 80s song," Casey said, wincing. "So what happened to make your mind shut down, because the Ryan I know is always thinking, planning, and strategizing."

"When her phone kept ringing and you asked if it was her boyfriend, she never said it wasn't," Chuck admitted. Casey stared at him. "It bothered me she might have a boyfriend." Casey continued to stare. "We kinda had a moment the other night…" he trailed off, embarrassed.

"Damn, Bartowski," he whispered, so shocked he slipped on the cover name. "Forget falling, you've fallen." Chuck shrugged.

"Have you noticed I'm not that upset she blew my cover? Have you noticed I'm about as calm and as at peace as I've been in my life? Casey…I don't know what to do about her," Chuck admitted.

"Talk to her numbnuts," Casey grunted.

"I can't, would you do it?" Chuck asked. Casey stared at him.

"Ryan, have you had a girlfriend since the sixth grade?" Casey asked, trying not to burst out in laughter. Chuck looked away. "Did you have one in sixth grade?"

"When exactly was I supposed to, Casey?" Chuck asked. "Ten years I've been under, and who exactly would I have had a relationship with? Who exactly should I trust to be physical with? Who exactly should I open up to?" Casey stared at him and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"This is going to suck so hard," he said, walking off.

"What is?" Chuck asked. Chuck's and Casey's cellphones both got a text. They looked down and looked up at each other at the same time.

"Go," Casey said. "Be with her, she needs you, I'll take care of things here and our partner." Chuck nodded and ran off.

}o{

The next morning found Sarah checking herself out in the mirror. She really hated the clothes she wore to work, but she did like the blue shirt she had on today. She nodded, and went to get Chuck. Casey had said there was an emergency and it would be best to not bother him that night. She heard voices in his apartment when she got home, but she took her partner's advice. She came out of her door and went to knock on Chuck's when she saw Detective Miller leaving, wearing the same clothes she had worn when Sarah had last seen her yesterday morning. Sarah found herself furious. Tears stung her eyes, and the shocked expression on Carina's face didn't help any of her feelings. Sarah did the only thing she knew how to do, she fled back to her apartment.

"Nope, rook, no you don't," Carina said, following her in.

"I won't tell, just leave me alone!" Sarah yelled. Carina didn't move. Sarah heard a knock on the door, and glanced over her shoulder to see Carina answer it. She saw Chuck as Carina answered and quickly turned around.

"Is everything okay?" Chuck asked, concerned.

"It's fine, Ryan," Carina said. "It's girl stuff, you wouldn't understand."

"Okay," Chuck said. "You sure you're okay."

"I'm fine, Chuck," she heard Carina say. It sounded like she was hugging him. "Thank you for everything."

"Anytime, Miller, anytime," he said, leaving. When Sarah heard the door close she spun back around. Carina was walking to the couch, a smirk on her face. She sat, and patted the seat beside her.

"No," Sarah said. Carina shrugged.

"Yes, Rook, I slept in Chuck's bed last night," Carina said with a twinkle in her eye. She watched Sarah's face, and knew. "However, Ryan slept on the couch." Carina watched Sarah process that. She went from mad, to happy, to embarrassed. "Yes, he held me most of the night." Sarah's face fell again. "There was this woman who turned on Volkoff a while back, and men raped her, repeatedly." Sarah looked at her, and saw Carina look very vulnerable. Sarah didn't think bad-ass Detective Miller could ever be vulnerable. She was beautiful, tough as nails, and Sarah wished she had the confidence Carina had. "She's been in a psych hospital for a long time, she's tried to commit suicide multiple times." Carina's voice had gotten soft. "She hadn't tried in weeks. We thought…" Carina shook her head. She looked up at Sarah, tears in her eyes. "Last night she succeeded." Sarah flew to Carina and held her, and the red-haired woman cried. "He's a good dude, and yeah, I've tried, but we've been friends for so long now that I don't even know if I want to cross that line." Sarah pulled back, embarrassment on her face. "Thing is, Blondie, I think he already cares about you more than he ever did me. Be gentle with him."

"He's just my partner," Sarah said. Carina eyed her, grinning through the tears.

"Sarah," Carina said. She shrugged. "Don't worry, he won't find out from me." Sarah grinned.

"Thank you," she said softly. "And I'm sorry." Carina nodded.

"Let him watch you," Carina said seriously. "I don't want Volkoff to get to you." Sarah nodded. "I won't let Volkoff get to you, and I'll keep the others off of Ryan," she said winking. Sarah couldn't help but grin.

}o{

Sarah grinned at the text she received, got up from her desk and went into Beckman's office. Chuck was trying not to be seen watching Sarah. He felt eyes and turned. There sat Carina and Zondra with big smiles on their faces. He turned back around and Casey was shaking his head.

"Numbnuts," he muttered.

"What have I done this time?" Chuck asked.

"Miller spent the night at your place last night?" Casey asked. Chuck just looked at him.

"Yeah," he finally said. Casey continued to stare. "Nothing happened, Casey."

"Oh, I know, and you know who else knows, Walker," Casey said.

"Well, I'm an adult and if Carina is having a bad night, needs her friend to comfort her, and decides to stay that's my and her business," Chuck said, trying to be defensive. Casey just stared at him.

"Even you don't believe what just came out of your mouth," Casey replied. "You want Walker thinking you and Miller did something?"

"Casey, nothing happened," Chuck insisted.

"Sarah is new, she didn't know that," Casey said, staring bullet holes through him. "She doesn't know the history the two of you had with that victim, and for that matter, that kinda history can lead to things." The color drained out of Chuck's face as he realized what could have happened. "Make sure next time she knows that and Miller doesn't have to have the talk that you're too scared to have," Casey said.

"Casey," Chuck began.

"Ryan, everyone in this department knows how you feel about Sarah, it's evident in everything you do," Casey said. "Christ, you've got me hip-deep in lady feelings. Talk to her, quit being an emotional cripple. For the sake of all that is holy, you make me look tender and caring."

"I am so confused," Chuck said, putting his head down into his hands.

"That I believe," Casey said. Chuck felt a tapping on his shoulder. He looked up and there stood a blond haired, blue-eyed woman, a few years younger than Chuck. She had a familiar smirk on her face, blue jeans, and a very light, grey tee shirt had different women on it. Underneath the women said TALK NErDy TO ME, and the N Er Dy were part of the periodic chart. Chuck had no idea what any of it meant.

"Are you a good cop?" she asked.

"I'd like to think so," Chuck replied.

"Good, I'll be the bad one then," she said, winking salaciously at him.

"Molly, leave him alone, he's not ready for you," Sarah said from across the room.

"SARAH," the woman apparently named Molly yelled and crashed into Sarah hugging her.

"Christ," Casey grumbled.

"You didn't tell me the original scruffy nerf herder worked here," Molly said grinning.

"And Sarah didn't tell me the wild child was loose," Casey said, trying to sound guff but grinning.

"Anyone want to introduce me?" Chuck asked. Molly plopped down in his lap, Chuck's eyebrows nearly shooting off his head. "Ah, ma'am, ah, you can't be doing that."

"Oh, because it's a public place?" Molly asked.

"Uh, no," Chuck said, trying to push her off of him.

"Oh, you have a girlfriend?" Molly asked, trying to put an arm around his neck while being pushed off.

"Not exactly," Chuck said. "I don't know you like that, and this is my place of work, so if you don't mind-"

"I don't mind at all," Molly said, and then she was lifted off of Chuck by Sarah. Chuck was about to sink in his chair from embarrassment. That's why he didn't notice Molly's wink to Sarah and her whisper of, "So far, so good."

"Ryan, this insane person, is my younger sister, Molly," Sarah said, grinning. Chuck stared at her, Molly waved her fingers, grinning. "We have to go shopping."

"Well, have fun," Chuck said, turning back around to his desk. He saw the evil smile on Casey's face, and realized they hadn't moved. "No," he said softly.

"Uh, Ryan, do you have a tux?" Sarah asked. Chuck shut his eyes. He heard Carina sputtering laughter across the room. He opened his eyes, and Casey was leaned back, arms crossed, looking as pleased as he could be.

"I'll get one," Chuck said, knowing he wasn't winning this but trying anyway. He felt a pair of hands on each arm pulling him up. "Casey," he pleaded.

"Beckman cleared it," Casey said. "Wouldn't want you going to the shindig looking like a slob."

That's how Chuck found himself in the backseat with Sarah while Molly drove. Why they were both in the backseat, he wasn't sure. And why she was sitting right beside him, he really wasn't sure.

"Not that I don't want you back here, but why are we both in the back seat?" Chuck asked.

"Well, we both have long legs, so it's really not fair for one of use to be cramped and the other not," Sarah said, smiling sweetly.

"Oh," Chuck said. He swore he heard a gagging sound coming from Molly.

"Don't worry, Sarah, we'll hurry, I know you have big plans tonight," Molly said, grinning in the mirror back at her. Chuck gave her a look.

"Hot date?" he asked, as nonchalantly as he could.

"Yes, with her big fuzzball," Molly said. Chuck looked at Sarah, completely confused.

"Today is May the 4th," Sarah said. Chuck nodded.

"So you're going to pre-drink for Cinco de Mayo?" Chuck guessed. Molly burst out laughing, and Sarah shook her head sadly.

"Ryan, remember how you wanted me to teach you about things?" Sarah asked. Chuck nodded. "May the 4th be with you," she said. Chuck looked on in complete cluelessness. "It's unofficially Star Wars day, because it sounds like may the force be with you."

"Oookay," Chuck said. Sarah grinned at him.

"Trust me," she said. Chuck nodded. "So tonight would be a good time to watch the movies with me." Chuck blew out a breath.

"I don't think I can do six movies in one night," he said.

"Oh, that's fine, we'll just do the original trilogy," she replied. Chuck gave her a look.

"Why would you start in the middle?" he asked. Sarah's eyes grew wide.

"Wow, you really know nothing do you?" Molly said. She then launched into an explanation of Star Wars that Chuck only understood about every fifth word and then she talked about something called the Hilton order, and then the Machete order.

"Molly, too much, too soon," Sarah said, covering Chuck's ears and grinning at him. They stopped, got out of the car, and Sarah gasped. "Mom, Dad," she said. Chuck looked up and saw the Mayor and his wife.

"Ah, Detective Ryan," Jack said, extending his hand. Chuck shook it. "Good to meet you. Since the ball isn't until next week, and you're working with my daughter, I was wondering if you'd join us for dinner sometime before hand." Chuck turned to Sarah who was as stunned as he was.

"Sure?" he replied. Jack beamed.

"Well, I was just here to drop off my wife so have fun," he said. He leaned in close. "Shopping with three women, I bet you'd rather be shot at." Jack pulled away, grinned, and walked off.

"I really don't mind," Chuck said. Sarah smiled at him. Chuck went with the ladies to a dress shop. Molly insisted that Chuck be the final judge since he had to be the one seen with her that night. Chuck told her it didn't matter what Sarah wore, she would be beautiful. He said it matter-of-factly. He was sitting in a chair outside the dressing rooms, and picked up a magazine. He was used to going shopping with his sister and waiting. The three women studied him a moment, all three smiled, and took dresses into the changing area.

A moment later he swore he could hear them. He noticed a vent beside the chair, and their voices must be coming through a vent in the changing room.

"So what's the O stand for?" Molly asked.

"He has no idea," Sarah said. "I sometimes just call him whatever I want that starts with an O and make jokes about it."

"Maybe you should make it like a fortune cookie, and add, in bed after it," Molly said.

"Molly," Emma said. It sounded like it was meant to be a warning, but Chuck could hear the warmth and humor in her voice.

"It's O for outstanding," Molly said breathily. "In BED!"

"MOLLY!" Emma said in a laughing whisper. Sarah was laughing.

"No idea," Sarah admitted.

"Why not?" Molly asked.

"Well, he's my partner, he's been undercover for a long time and is just adjusting to the outside world," Sarah began.

"You're chicken," Molly said. Chuck's entire face was turning red by this time. Then his phone rang. He picked it up and wondered if the sound went both ways.

"Ryan," he said, and heard gasps on the other end of the vent. Yep, ran both ways. Casey was calling him with a name to see if he recognized. He looked up when Emma came out to see if he was still where they left him. She saw the vent, and put two and two together. She grinned as she left, and Chuck wondered what was going on. He hung up and waited, only hearing the barest of whispers now.

"Oh, Ryan," he heard Molly's voice call through the vent. Chuck didn't answer trying to save Sarah from embarrassment. He heard nothing for a minute, and then Molly was there, grinning at him. She never said a word, just motioned him to follow her. "Nicely played, Outstanding," she said, grinning. Chuck's ears turned red. "Don't worry we won't let her know you overheard." Chuck started to retort when she nodded her head to the right. Chuck turned, and did a doubletake, his mouth dropping. Sarah was in a red dress…or was it salmon…he wasn't sure. Chuck's mind had rebooted and he thought he might be drooling.

"You are so pretty," he mumbled out. Sarah gave him a toothy smile that melted Chuck.

"I'll take this one," Sarah said to the sales lady, never turning towards her. The sales lady looked at Chuck, shook her head, grinned, and took Sarah by the elbow to lead her to the back to change. Chuck felt a hand come over and close his mouth.

"You are so smittened," Molly said. Chuck turned to her.

"I need to seriously ask you something," Chuck said. Molly nodded, grinning. "She has a boyfriend overseas or something, right? Because there is no logical explanation for her to be single."

"You mean because she's so pretty right?" Molly asked, suspiciously. Chuck shook his head.

"I mean, yeah, but I don't know if her physical beauty makes the top ten," Chuck said. Molly's eyebrows shot up and she gave him a speculative look. "In no order, she's book smart, passionate, street smart, funny, has a sharp wit, kind, compassionate, dedicated, trusting, and the beauty inside of her…when I first saw her undercover, she looked across the street and saw me. She saw me. I was buried under filth and garbage and a fake beard and she looked into my eyes and it felt like she stripped me down to my soul, and I just don't know how she doesn't have a boyfriend, or fiancé, or husband."

"Because no one has really asked me out," Sarah said, making Chuck's head whip around. Her eyes were as big as saucers, and she looked very nervous. "Most guys think I'm just some brainy nerd and I intimidate them."

"Those guys are idiots," Chuck choked out. "Yes, you are intimidating, but why in the world wouldn't you want to be with someone that challenges you and pushes you to be your best." Her eyes were sparkling. He then noticed she still had on the dress. "Did you hear everything I said?" She nodded.

"I came over to make sure you liked the dress," Sarah said. "I mean you said I was pretty, but you never said a thing about it." Chuck stared at her.

"Sarah Walker, you are beautiful in the tee shirts and yoga pants you wear," Chuck replied. "That dress…I don't possess the words appropriate to tell you how utterly amazing you look in that dress."

"So I should buy it?" Sarah asked.

"If you don't I will for you," Chuck said. Sarah smiled at him and started to turn to go, she paused and turned back.

"I bet you are Outstanding," she said, winked, and left. Molly grabbed his arm before he passed out.

}o{

"Does your hand really have to be there?" Chuck asked the tailor.

"You have unusually long legs, Charles," the tailor replied.

"It's Ryan," Chuck replied.

"As you say, Charles," the tailor answered. Chuck dropped his head back and looked up at the ceiling. Things hadn't been too awkward after the dress shop. The three women knew a tailor that would make the perfect tux for Ryan. Roan Montgomery was one of the finest tailors in the world.

"Roan, you know I can't be called that," Chuck said. Roan stood up and looked at him.

"Charles, you know how I work," Roan replied. "No one is nearby. Now, how's Diane?"

"If you'd go home, you'd know," Chuck said. Roan tilted his head and grinned.

"She's kicked me out," Roan said. Chuck gave him a look.

"Roan, we both know all you have to do is knock on the door," Chuck said. "However, that would imply you were wrong."

"I can't have that," Roan said, grinning.

"She's not going to crawl back here and beg you to come back," Chuck said. At that moment Roan's phone rang. "You put that on silent." Roan grinned.

"Go show them," Roan said. "There's only one number allowed to get through." Chuck shook his head.

"You two are worse than me, and I've been undercover for ten years so at least I have an excuse," Chuck said. Roan shooed him away, and answered the phone. Chuck opened the door that separated the back from the waiting area and walked out. Molly saw him first, bit her bottom lip, and nodded her head. Emma saw him next, and just flat winked at him. Sarah looked up and dropped the magazine she was reading.

"Told you you'd drool," Chuck said. Sarah got up, walked toward him, and circled him studying him.

"You really bet me on the wrong thing, Chuck," she said softly. Chuck whipped his head toward Emma and Molly, but he could tell they were trying not to listen. "Don't worry, they didn't hear me." She was standing right in front of him. She straightened the bow tie, and then smoothed down the front of his shirt.

"Did it have wrinkles?" Chuck said looking down, noticing her hand was on his chest. "I never saw any." She shook her head no. "Oh," he said. She began to grin. "So are we gonna watch the original trilogy tonight. She nodded. "All those times you told me I wouldn't look that good in a suit. How does it feel to lose?"

"Like I need to lose more often," Sarah said, a wicked grin on her face.

"Mr. Ryan, I need to close the shop early, could we hurry," Roan said. Chuck rolled his eyes.

"What's going on?" Sarah asked.

"I'll explain it to you later," Chuck said.

"Carina coming over tonight?" she asked. Chuck studied her a second.

"I don't know," Chuck replied honestly. "You know that was over a victim, right?" She nodded. "Sarah, is something going on here."

"Yes," she said softly, and then she grinned. "You're buying a tux," and with that, she winked and walked away.

"Sarah," he said as she continued to walk back to her mom and sister and ignore him. "Sarah," he force whispered. "I am so confused," he muttered to himself. He felt Roan right beside him.

"She's got you right where she wants you," Roan said.

"And, where is that?" Chuck asked. Roan shrugged.

"I have no idea, but enjoy the ride, my boy," he said, turning him toward the back to change.

}o{

"Okay, so this Han guy, Morgan keeps saying I'm the Han to his Chewie, is that the fuzzy guy and the one showing his chest is me?" Chuck asked.

"He's not showing that much of his chest," Sarah said.

"Yeah, wait til you meet Awesome, he practically never wears a shirt, and is so fit," Chuck shook his head. "I mean, I'm in decent shape with everything I've had to do but that guy…wow!"

"So two things, one I noticed when I tried to catch you, you moved much better than I did, think you might be willing to take on a workout partner?" she asked.

"It's a lot of early morning running, which I've been avoiding since I moved in here, but I do need to get back in the habit," Chuck answered. She nodded.

"Two, Awesome?" Sarah asked.

"Ellie's husband," Chuck said. Sarah grinned.

"You want me to meet your sister and her husband?" Sarah asked, starting to feel warmth inside of her.

"I mean I'm meeting your mom and dad and my sister practically raised me, even when my parents were around," Chuck said, shrugging. "You've already seen my dad in his cell, and I can find you a mug shot of my mom." He was grinning, but there was hurt in his eyes. She scooted over to him, and pulled him in. "I'm okay," he said, knowing he would cry if he stayed like that too long with her.

"Chuck, no you're not," she said softly. She felt him quit fighting and the tears began.

"No, I'm not," he said, and he cried as she held him. After a few minutes, he sat up.

"I'm so sorry," he began.

"For what?" she said, bouncing a shoulder and cutting him off. "For being human, for wishing you had a family."

"What about you?" he asked. "You and your dad seem to have…issues." Sarah sighed.

"I think you're deflecting, but I'll let you have this one," she said, her eyes narrowing. "He wants what's best for me, regardless of what I want."

"So you changed your name to stick it to the man?" Chuck asked, grinning.

"I changed my name so no one would immediately know Sarah Walker is the mayor's daughter," Sarah said.

"Be known for who you are, not who you're related to?" he asked. She nodded. "Yeah, I get that." She had her hand around his neck and rubbed it. "Okay, that's serious enough, about the movies," he began.

"Why do you do that?" she asked. He turned to her, and lost the ability to speak. She was looking at him intently with those eyes, all the way into his soul. "Why do you run from conversations instead of dealing with things? Why do you hide?"

"It's all I've ever known what to do," Chuck admitted. "Between dad's problems and mom's we didn't talk about stuff. Ellie tried to help me open up, but then I went undercover and I had to build these walls. Now every time I try to talk, I get weepy."

"Maybe you should see someone," Sarah said. Chuck shook his head. "I didn't mean a professional, although that would probably be best, I just meant someone you trusted you could talk to."

"That's a very short list," Chuck said, barking out a laugh.

"Okay, who's on it?" she asked. Chuck looked at her and shook his head.

"Do I want to play the game and put everyone out there, or just jump to you?" he asked.

"I guess it's if depends if you like to play games or not," Sarah said.

"I don't think I can, ethically," Chuck said. Sarah gave him a look. "Isn't there something about not having a relationship with your therapist?" Chuck asked grinning.

"We're in a relationship?" Sarah asked with a smirk.

"Sure," Chuck said grinning. "We're partners, friends…" he trailed off.

"Something else you want to add to that, Chuck?" she asked, popping the "k".

"You know I have no idea what I'm doing, right?" he said softly. Sarah rubbed the back of his neck again and he turned toward her.

"Looks like you're doing fine from where I'm sitting," she replied. "Come on, I've got much to teach you young padawan."

"Thank you, Sarah," he said. "For everything." Sarah smiled a toothy smile at him.

"It is my pleasure," she said, snuggling up against him to watch Star Wars. Chuck had no idea what was going on onscreen, but that was okay, because that meant they could watch it multiple times.

A/N: I swear the ball is coming…(You guys do remember the date in Unexpected, right? Me either, because it never happened. This one has to because the main story is tied to it…at least that's what I keep telling myself)…Take care…til next time.

DC