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prodagustd · 9 months ago

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the road not taken 03 | myg

part three: four seconds

Summary: If you wanted to stop thinking about Yoongi, the first step was as easy as stop seeing him, but why it seemed like he was following everywhere you went?

—pairing: lawyer!yoongi x actress!oc

—rating: +18

—genre: brother's best friend, one sided pinning (or both?)

—warnings/tags: slow burn,angst, fluff, eventual smut, angst, sexual tension!!!!! flashbacks, ANGST!! Btw english is not my first language !!

—words: 11k

—a/note: HERE IT ISSSSSSSS!!! I'm sosososos sorry for taking so long, but it is finally here!! I swear I will try and update monthly from now on, but enjoy this for now!! It has a lot of backstory so I hope you enjoy it. btw these last months I've been going to a poetry workshop so I was on fire writing this (ok maybe not since I took so long to finish it lmao). As always feedback is always welcomed, and if you want to discuss this part in the asks you're welcomed as well!! ilyyyy

series masterlist | teaser | playlist

Present

When Yoongi turned thirteen, your mother promised to bake a Batman cake as a gift for his birthday party. You had a clear memory of sitting at the counter the day before the party as she decorated the cake with yellow icing that tasted like just like bananas, and the next day when Yoongi gave you the first piece of cake you remembered thinking it was the best thing you’ve ever tasted. A few years ago, when Yoongi turned twenty three, you asked him if he remembered the taste of that cake, and, as he smoked what he swore it would be the last cigarette of his life, he said that he did not. At that time you asked him how it was possible that he didn’t remember the taste of some cake your mom made ten years ago, how was it possible that information of such importance had gone unnoticed? Looking back, you could say that it was not Yoongi’s fault, maybe you were the only one holding onto memories and he was as forgetful as everyone else. After all, Yoongi forgot he promised he would quit smoking that very same night, he would smoke his last cigarette only a year later, but even to this day you couldn’t forget the taste of that cake.

You were just beginning to realize you were condemned to be one of those people who just remembered. Like your aunt, who knew all the birthdays and all the deathdays, all your cousins’ first words, including yours, and was often caught reminiscing every detail of the day she met her husband thirty springs ago. Maybe it was in the family, and it was only a matter of time until you started speaking memories instead of words, so you tried to stop it, but they lived in your mind regardless if you decided to stop mentioning them out loud or not.

Like the perfume of your granddad that he only wore on Christmas, or the way blood and tears tasted the day you broke your teeth when you were eight and tried to play basketball with Yoongi and Simon but tripped. You sobbed like a baby, but Yoongi hugged you so tight that you forgot you were going to be toothless for the following month.

You collected the memories, the words, the smell and the taste, you held them close to your heart, stuck in your chest with a stake, forced to remember everything while everyone around you just forgot. And you didn’t complain, you couldn’t, why would you? Life was like that, happening in front of you as you stood in front of the body length mirror in your mother’s room, as you closed your eyes and tried to remember the yellow icing in Yoongi’s birthday cake, it happened in front of you as you tried to avoid it. You knew you had to stop lingering in the past when all those details, all those colors, and all those memories began to turn against you. Like every January, when your mind reminded you that your body was still stuck in the freezing cold of the morning you decided to leave home four years ago.

That morning, when you decided to go see Yoongi five days into the new year because he had barely texted you since the last day you saw him, January 2nd, when he received the news from his aunt that his mother had an accident during their trip. You walked to his apartment instead of driving because you didn’t think it was that cold, but you were immediately proven wrong when your hands started to get frozen and your feet began to hurt as you walked in the snow, but that didn’t stop you. He said he was going to be home for a second to grab some stuff and then come back to the hospital, where his mom was, so you were expecting the look of surprise on his face when he saw you at the door, what you weren’t expecting was the way he was hesitating to let you in. You remembered the things he did and the things he said that day like they were engraved in your memory, but mostly the way he was looking at you, like he wanted to run away, from you? from his life? You still didn’t know, all you knew is that after that you had no other option than to turn around and walk away.

When you thought about it for too long you could still feel the way the snow lingered all the way home in your clothes and hair, how it stayed on the sole of your shoes for the following years, how your tears froze in your cheeks because you refused to wipe them away. Sometimes you woke up in the middle of the night and could still feel the snow running down your back, making you wonder if winter was still chasing you.

Inside your body it had been winter for so long that your heart seemed to be completely frozen ever since you left home, only now that you were back you realized that perhaps autumn was not warm enough to heal your heart.

That was not the last time you saw Yoongi, but you believed it was the last time you decided to talk to him, the last time you allowed yourself to even lay eyes on him.

You wished you could find peace for at least a moment, but it seemed that you had to work hard for it, it was getting tiring to remember that you were the one who caused the chaos that was your life, and now you were the one who had to fix it: your mother, your brother, Ian and Sally, and even your public image. Doing the last button of your white shirt you asked the universe: why couldn’t those be all your problems? You swore to the man in the sky that if he sent you all your problems in the form of a giant monster you were willing to fight it, only if he could stop you from seeing Yoongi tonight.

Perhaps you should stay in your mom’s room tonight, not attending dinner was okay, your mom made that clear, but at the same time you were twenty five years old now, you couldn’t keep acting like an angry teenager who decided to skip dinner. You knew that it wasn’t going to make things better, but at least seeing your brother was going to make you feel normal, and that was the only reason you decided to set foot outside the room when you heard the bell ring.

Four years ago.

Two weeks before New Year’s Eve.

You should’ve known that it would be useless to stop thinking about what happened a week ago the minute you woke up in the same bed as Yoongi, but you still tried. You tried, and tried, and tried in countless ways, like for example, when you tried to watch a whole season of The Office in one sitting, or when you listened your mom rant about some turkish drama she was watching, or when Minnie texted a few days ago and you let her talk about that job she mentioned that night until you fell asleep. And then, you agreed to meet her for a coffee and she talked non stop about the same open audition four hours away in the city.

You were not sure if she was beginning to convince you or you were just desperately trying to stop thinking about Yoongi, you thought the only logical explanation for both theories was that you were about to go crazy.

But if you were being honest to yourself, you couldn’t help but be interested in it. Minnie pitched the job like a gothic dramatic love story, which sounded just like something you would love. She also said it wasn’t a super big play, but it wasn’t small either, and it was pretty well paid. Minnie mentioned she knew the producers and the director and could put on a good word for you.

“Why don’t you do it, then?” You had asked her, not being sure if you would do the same thing for someone who didn’t talk to you in years. “And why me?”

“Oh, well, I don’t know if it’s my style and… I’m not sure if I’m ready to leave home yet.” She replied with a nostalgic tone in her voice. “And why not you? I don’t know anyone who can pull it off, and you appeared in front of my eyes. Must be a sign.”

You couldn’t understand the first thing, how adamant she was to stay here, as much as you tried to see the world through her eyes, you couldn’t, a few years ago you took the first chance to get out of here and didn’t look back. But sitting there, at the small table next to the window, it wasn’t difficult to tell which one of you two looked more happy (hint: it wasn’t you). Minnie was different, she was still working at The Alley, she loved it there and wasn’t willing to let it go yet.

The second thing, you couldn’t understand either, but it made sense for her to do it. Being kind was natural for Minnie, she didn’t hold grudges, and you weren’t sure if you deserved that kindness. She waved away all your concerns, your whens and whys and hows, she kept repeating the same words; “it must be a sign”, “it’s clearly meant to be”, and you just laughed and tried to not to think about Yoongi. And it worked for a while, because on the way home you allowed yourself to fantasize about it for at least ten minutes. Moving to the city and working there for weeks and weeks and maybe months or years, and not having to pretend you were someone else. But the minute you entered your house you were reminded of what you were trying to forget.

The memory kept sneaking in your mind, just like Yoongi sneaked in your bed that night. The image of his hooded eyes, his pink lips and the reminder that nothing really happened kept wandering inside your head.

That night you entered the house giggling like babies and when both of you were changed and ready to sleep you got under the covers, not thinking whether it was right or wrong. And yes, your bed was big enough for you and him, but your arms and legs still slightly touched during the whole night, and when you woke up your feet where tangled with each other, leaving you wondering if you were stupid for thinking something had changed between the two of you, or maybe the way he looked at you when he opened his eyes was just your twisted imagination.

Yes, you were probably crazy when you thought he was looking at you differently when you made him breakfast, like you promised. You were crazy for thinking it felt like you were in a different universe when you sat in the kitchen island the whole morning and then found Nightmare Before Christmas on tv and discussed if it was a Christmas or a Hallowen movie on the couch.

And then, of course, he left, bringing you back to reality. But then during the week he came back, and then left again, and came back again. You knew you had to kick him out, you knew it was for the best to make up an excuse and say you were busy, but this time he promised to get your car repaired, so you let him take you to his uncle’s garage.

Yoongi’s uncle was nowhere to be found today, but Namjoon, Yoongi’s friend, was in charge, although he wasn’t very happy with people being loud while he was working. By the time Namjoon established he didn’t want any of you there at the garage, you had already decided you were staying.

You knew Namjoon ever since he started working with Yoongi’s uncle, he was a tall and big guy with a shy smile, he wore glasses and read books, he was funny and smart and you knew that he had more more than one girl waiting for him to text them back, and for some reason, despite being really handsome, and really cute, and really tall… he was still single. Not that you cared, of course, you were interested in… other people…You still allowed yourself to admire him, like when you watched that Turkish drama with your mom because you were trying not to think of Yoongi and the lead actor helped a lot with it.

Now you were there, sitting on top of some dirty table next to a bunch of tools you couldn’t name, trying to keep silent when Namjoon scolded you again.

Yoongi was very good at ignoring him, he pretended he didn’t listen to his friend as he leaned towards you, talking really close to your ear. “Should I give your grandma a Christmas present?” He asked, half joking, half serious. “You know, so she’s in a good mood.”

You turned to him, raising an eyebrow. “A bottle of klonopin, maybe.” You said, making Namjoon scoff loudly.

He turned around, now interested in the conversation, looking at you both. “Why do you want to give her grandma a Christmas present?” He asked, confused. One of the reasons why Namjoon didn’t like people talking while he was working was because he was easily distracted, when he was interested in the topic he didn’t seem too annoyed.

Yoongi turned around to face him, deciding his friend was there all of a sudden. “I’m spending Christmas with her family next week.” He explained, being kind enough to forget that Namjoon explicitly told him to shut the fuck up about twenty minutes ago. “But she’s a bit moody.”

That was one way to describe your grandmother, the other one was to say she was a complete witch.

“Yeah, Yoongi invited himself.” You teased him, instantly feeling one of his fingers digging into your rib, making you jump.

Namjoon quietly observed the scene like something he wasn’t supposed to watch, with his mouth hung open ready to say something, but his mind was still searching for words. You suspected that Yoongi’s answer left him with more doubts that he had to begin with.

“Really?” He managed to say, curious. “I didn’t know you two were… like that.” Namjoon cautiously started the sentence, but didn’t dare to finish it in case he was wrong, although the scene you were making was clearly making him believe he was right.

You jumped in your seat, opening your eyes widely as you understood what he was implying. “Oh, no.” You rushed to say, waving your hands in the air.

“No, not like that.” Yoongi talked at the same time as you, crossing looks as if you were reassuring each other of it. His eyes were as open as yours, shaking his head trying to deny the accusation. “My mom is not here until the first week of January.” He explained, making Namjoon nod, still confused at your nervous reactions. “So I’m alone at Christmas.”

Yoongi looked at you, giving a look that meant “it makes sense, right?” and yes, of course it made sense. You and Yoongi had spent Christmas together before, he knew your whole family since he was a kid, he grew up with Simon, he was family too, it made sense, but Namjoon’s implication made both of you jump in your seats, talking over each other as you laughed nervously.

“So all of you three are spending Christmas together?” Namjoon continued to ask, trying to understand the conversation again. “You two and Simon?”

There was a beat of silence in the room, but you were quick to answer. “Simon is spending Christmas with his girlfriend, so we're on our own.”

Namjoon nodded again, trying not to think too much about it. “So Simon is okay with you keeping all his gifts?” He tried to joke, but the answer only sounded worse.

You looked at Yoongi, but he was looking at his shoes, avoiding Namjoon’s eyes. Neither of you bothered to mention to Simon that you were spending Christmas together, was it really necessary? Why was Namjoon making it sound like it was necessary for him to know? Why did you feel the need to explain to him that it wasn’t weird at all that you were spending Christmas together alone? You weren’t alone after all, there was your mom, and your grandmother, your aunt and some of your cousins too, I mean, you’ll have to share the room, of course, but- wait… You had to share the room. You forgot about that.

Oh my God… Simon couldn’t find out about that.

You were quick to suppress the thought, agreeing with yourself to handle that matter later, but right now Namjoon was looking at you like he expected an answer. You quickly realized that Namjoon was just as noisy as you.

“Oh, he doesn’t need to know.” You said, brushing it off, but your mind was already in chaos.

Present

You were never really interested in astrology, you tried to get into it a few years ago only to understand what Minnie was saying since she talked about it most of the time, but you ended up being too skeptical to believe in anything. You didn’t believe in God, or in astrology and you weren’t even sure if you could call yourself an atheist completely, but you were still curious. Early in life you realized you were agnostic, (you were aware that you sounded like a pretentious man on a first date when you said it out loud), but you still asked every person you met their star signs in case they matched with their personalities, as if you were still trying to prove yourself wrong.

You didn’t know if the universe was right or wrong, but if you were sure about something, it was that Simon was a Leo. Not only because he was born on the first of August, but because he fitted in every category of a Leo. He was charming and confident, outgoing, he was a natural leader and people always felt drawn to him, making him a little bit… self centered.

Like every other Leo, Simon loved his birthday, that was the only reason why you were thinking about it. Two months ago, the first of August, you called him on his birthday like every sister calls her brother on his birthday. You could’ve just sent a message like the past year, but your life was already beginning to feel suffocating. Talking to Simon seemed to ease your heart for a while. He wanted to talk to you about his job at the firm and his girlfriend, the cat they adopted, how they were planning to move to a bigger apartment the following year and asked when you thought it was a great time to propose. You needed to feel like something was in place, like your relationship with Simon was normal, like he could tell you anything and you could listen and just laugh. It worked for the first ten minutes, until he inevitably brought up the topic of his birthday party, and he inevitably invited you, and you inevitably had to say no.

You missed Simon, you missed your mom, you missed your bed and your home, but you weren’t ready to come back, you weren’t ready to see the thousand faces you left behind, you were still hesitant to come back. Now you were there, tense at the end of the stairs because the disappointed tone on his voice lingered in your mind to this day.

Some voice in your head was telling you that it was what adults do, take responsibility for their actions, seeing people even if you preferred not to see them because that was what grown ups do. You were supposed to be an adult of twenty five years old, even if you felt like you never grew out of that bitter phase only teenagers go through, you were still an adult, so why did you feel like a kid at the end of the stairs, waiting for Simon to lay eyes on you?

Your mom hugged him tightly like she hadn’t seen him in months, and when he pulled away from her grip he noticed you, coming down the stairs as you realized that he, like your mom, wasn’t expecting to see you today.

Simon frowned, surprised, but just a second later a smile took over his face “Hey, you.” He said, opening his wide arms, offering you a hug. “What are you doing here?”

You took a deep breath, almost turning around to check if he was talking to another person behind you, but no, he was talking to you. He grabbed your wrists, pulling you closer to hug you the same way your mom was hugging him a moment ago. “Is this not my house?” You murmured against the fabric of his blue sweater, feeling your heart hammering against your ribcage as you tried to make a joke.

“Of course it is.” He just said, leaving a kiss on your hair.

Four years ago.

Two weeks before New Year’s Eve.

If you wanted to stop thinking about Yoongi, the first step was as easy as stop seeing him, because your mind was not helping at all.

After leaving his uncle’s garage you should’ve gone home to start thinking a way of telling Yoongi that he couldn’t sleep in the same bedroom as you on Christmas, you needed to think of an excuse for why he should sleep in your grandma’s one thousand year old couch instead of Simon’s empty bed, which was casually right next to yours.

The following step should be to watch some romcom with Heath Ledger and try to forget the way Yoongi rolled up his sleeves when he was pretending to help Namjoon with your car, or at least the way you stared like an idiot for a good moment before snapping out of it.

He should’ve gone home too, he had no business walking in the same direction as you if his apartment was towards the other end of the street. It didn’t take you long to realize he was following you “for some coffee, since we’re cold”, as he said, already assuming that you didn’t have any plans (he wasn’t wrong).

You didn’t want to chase him away, you were still working on that thing of not being a bitch, and while there was a rational part of you that knew that you were better off not seeing Yoongi, there also was a part of you who couldn’t get enough of him. A better explanation was that you might be a masochist.

The garage wasn’t far from home, but you were walking fast as if you were trying to lose him in the way.

“Is Namjoon still single?” You wondered out loud, trying to redirect your thoughts somewhere far away from him. At least for now it didn’t seem that difficult, you remembered the sweet smile of Yoongi’s friend and the way he lifted his glasses with his finger up to the bridge of his nose. Was he really shy or was he just faking it so girls thought he was cute? Either way, it was working.

“What?” Yoongi raised his voice, frowning at you.

You frowned back at him “I asked if Namjoon is still single.” You repeated, but you were sure he heard it right. “How come he’s still single?”

The wind hit your face, so you made yourself small in your jacket, scanning the street for any cars before crossing in the middle of the street. Yoongi followed you without hesitation, running to the other side of the street before you left him behind.

“Why…?” He yelled, trying to catch up with you, but when he was next to you he lowered his voice “Why do you care?”

The question sounded strange coming out of his lips, but you ignored his tone, turning your head. “I’m curious.” You just said, but he still couldn't shake the strange look on his face. “What?” You pushed his shoulder “Don’t look at me that way.”

“I’m not looking at you in any way.” He defended himself.

He was clearly looking at you in some way, you just didn’t know which. You winced, trying to brush it off “I’m just asking…” You murmured “He’s really cute, don’t you think? He works at the garage, he wears glasses, he’s got cute dimples. How is he still single?”

“It seems like you gave him a good look.” He mumbled under his breath, taking his eyes off you.

“I’m just a very observant girl.” You argued. “C’mon, you didn’t think about it? I’ve never seen Namjoon with a girl…” You kept wondering, staying silent as Yoongi, for some reason, refused to keep this conversation going. You still didn’t know how Simon and Yoongi were such good friends, Simon always knew everything about everyone, how was it possible that Yoongi refused to even discuss the reason for Namjoon's long singleness? Or maybe Yoongi was keeping the reason as a secret, maybe it was something no one was supposed to know. Suddenly, you connected two and two together, interpreting Yoongi’s reluctance in the most logical way. You gasped “Oh! Or is he…?”

Yoongi rolled his eyes, making a sound of annoyance when he realized you were still talking about the same thing. “No, he’s not gay, Pinky.” He sighed “He’s just not into dating.”

You turned the corner of the street, making Yoongi follow you. “Like my brother?” You asked, remember how everyone said the same thing about Simon.

He snorted “No, not like your brother.” He said “Simon was a mess… Namjoon is just a shy guy.”

You arched an eyebrow. That was the lamest excuse ever, it wasn’t enough explanation for you. Maybe Yoongi was right and Namjoon was just-a-shy-guy, or maybe Yoongi didn’t know the real reason why he has been single for years because men never communicate their feelings with each other, maybe Namjoon was dating his first love for years until she broke her heart, making him never want to date again, or maybe…

“Stop.” He said, interrupting your train of thought. Now it was his turn to push your shoulder “Don’t even think about it.”

He gave you a warning look, which made you confused for a moment… Wait, what was he thinking? Did Yoongi confuse your nosiness for something else? Did something that you said made him think your intentions were different? … Was he really thinking you were interested in Namjoon?

You pursed your lips, trying to contain your laugh. You could explain to Yoongi that he misunderstood you and deny every accusation, but something inside you told you that the current scenario was more fun.

“I’m not thinking about anything.” You said, faking innocence, and even if you really weren't he looked at you like he didn’t believe you.

“Yeah, right.” He huffed “Didn’t sound like that.”

“Really? How did it sound, then?” You teased him “Enlighten me.”

Yoongi did not say another word after that, refusing to follow your game. You've known him for longer than you could remember —literally, he said he remembered meeting you when he was four and Simon invited him into the house so he could meet his new baby sister, but you had no recall of it—, even so, you had no memory of him ever being mad at you, not even slightly annoyed, so you were a bit confused when his expression remained serious for the rest of the walk home. Was it so bad to show interest in Namjoon?

“Don’t even think about it.” What did that even mean?

Present

You were trying to avoid the memory of Ian’s proposal for weeks now. It was painted in your mind, the excited look on his face, his mom’s ring on his hand, the flowers, the cool white lights, the ringing in your ears that warned you something was wrong. You remembered wondering if he knew that you read all those texts he sent to other women, if he knew how ridiculous everything looked. It still made you cringe when you accidently thought about it. Did he really think you were the same as him?… Weren’t you different?

Despite being the most embarrassing moment of your life to date, you weren’t trying to hide it, you were planning to tell your family about it when the time was right. Like tonight, for example. You thought you could talk to them about it, that you could have time to explain everything, to apologize for not saying anything, maybe for a couple other things too… But your plan was ruined the moment your mom told you she had planned a dinner in your absence on the same day you arrived.

Now Simon was looking at you like you were thirteen and you got your heart broken for the first time. He rested his elbows on the table you and him just set, sighing. You were aware that the rest of the guests were on their way, but you tried to ignore it. It wasn’t that difficult since Simon’s thoughts were echoing in the room, making you shift in your seat. Of course Simon already knew about it, you were sure he already read it in some tabloid before you got the chance to tell him first.

“Stop doing that.” You said, breaking the silence. He didn’t seem surprised, but still narrowed his eyes, trying to play dumb.

“Doing what?”

You weren’t sure what he was doing exactly, maybe you were just imagining the way he was looking at you: with pity, but it was annoying you, and he knew that, perhaps it was the reaction he was expecting from you. He was laughing five minutes ago, making fun of you when he saw you trip on the step of the entrance to the kitchen like nothing changed between the two of you, but now he was sitting in silence as if he was preparing you to ask you the question.

You wished Florence, Simon’s girlfriend, were here. She would fill the uncomfortable silences with gossip about the neighbors and ignore the elephant in the room. She was away visiting her family, so instead you were there with him as he tried to play the big brother role, but failed terribly.

“Are you going to ask me about it?” You asked, not hesitating.

Simon let your question linger in the air, pretending you didn’t just read his mind. There were only a few people you could say you knew like the palm of your hand, one of them was your brother. Even if you spent years separated, you’ve always been as thick as thieves, you still saw right through Simon, and the only problem with that was that he saw right through you as well.

“Are you going to tell the truth?” He calmly asked, enjoying the look on your face when he heard you gasp, offended.

It hurt to know how implicit it was that you hadn’t been honest these past years, it was easy to catch you off guard. While you were out in the world, away from your family, Simon stayed here and visited your mom every sunday and tried to ignore the fact that you didn’t answer any of their messages that week, saying that you were busy working when you really were trying to avoid invitations for the next weekend. It was obvious that Simon was the one that spent more time with your mom, you thought about that the second he used the same tone as her when she was scolding you.

You crossed your arms over your chest, frowning “Maybe, I can think about it.” You said in the same tone as him. Simon just scoffed, shaking his head.

“Fine. That was too much to ask for, I guess.” He snarked, mocking you “I have a simpler question… are you okay?”

Despite his attempt to appear casual and keep bickering, his concern was evident. That question could have felt like a caress to the soul, a sigh of relief, the feeling of home, but instead it felt like Simon had punched you in the stomach, leaving you without air. How easy it was to fight with Simon, how easy would’ve been for you if he didn’t hug you when he saw you thirty minutes ago. It would’ve been less difficult than witnessing his blue eyes showing you mercy. It was clear that he cared for you, but you weren't sure if you deserved it, not from him of all people.

“Simon…” You murmured, shaking your head. It was an easy question, but difficult to answer knowing this wasn’t the right moment, this wasn’t how you planned things.

“What?” He questioned, reading your mind “I’m not asking you just because I have to, I’m not waiting for you to lie to me and tell me that you’re alright so I can forget about it, I care.”

“I know you care.” You breathed out “It’s just…” You sighed, vacillating “Listen… I haven’t- I’m not okay, really… But I can manage. I just feel like this is not the right moment to talk about it.” You looked at the entrance of the door and his sorry eyes followed, understanding what you meant. Simon nodded, but he didn’t stop looking at you like you were a wounded animal.

“That’s fine, I understand.” He murmured “That’s what I wanted to know. I was just wondering if you were going to be okay tonight.”

“I’ll be fine, as long as I don’t have to talk about myself. We’ll have time for that” You assured him.

“Are you sure?” He continued to question, doubting you.

You squinted your eyes “Yes, I'm sure, Simon.” You said, annoyed, even if you couldn’t blame him for not trusting your word. “I’m not planning to run away.”

“Not again?” He tried to joke, but you didn’t dare to laugh.

“I assure you, not again.” You rolled your eyes, hating that that was the image your brother had of you, hating to know that he was right. “You can stop looking at me like I’m a lost puppy now, I’m not a lost puppy.”

He scoffed “Are you not a lost puppy?” He asked “Where are you sleeping tonight?”

You frowned, offended “Here, of course… I mean, on the couch probably, but here.” You tried to defend yourself, but you immediately realized that your room was still a mess, and instead of cleaning a bit before dinner, you spent the whole afternoon sleeping.

His lips curved into a mocking smile, knowing that there wasn’t much difference between you and a lost puppy. “You can sleep at mine.” He offered.

“I wasn’t asking” You resisted, too proud to say yes right away.

“I know.” He said, and he shushed you to stop you from talking, pretending that it was the end of the discussion.

You shook your head, trying to reject those kind gestures you didn’t deserve. You opened your mouth, willing to keep arguing with your brother until you heard the bell ringing for the second time this evening, making you almost jump in your seat.

Your mom yelled from the kitchen, announcing that she was getting the door followed by the sound of her noisy shoes making their way to the door. It happened in a matter of seconds, you heard your mom rushing to the hall and opening the door, you heard muffled sounds, mixed voices, your mom greeting the guests while you waited on your chair as Simon turned his head over his shoulder, expectantly observing the entrance of the dining room.

Then, you heard steps approaching, laughter and chatter, but something else was happening in your head, something that was restricting you from hearing clearly —from thinking clearly—.

You fixed your eyes on the door, wishing no one appeared for as long as they could delay the arrival, but soon your field of vision was occupied by a short woman with curly hair and pearls in her ears. Nari, Yoongi’s mom, watched her step while she supported herself with a cane as she entered the room. Nari was just a few years older than your mom, but since the accident four years ago it has been difficult for her to walk without help, that’s why you and your brother both stood up at the same time to help her get to a seat faster.

The sound of both of your chairs being pushed back and your brother’s rushed steps filled the room. Simon was quicker than you, he approached Nari, smiling and saying hello as he grabbed one of her hands to help her find a seat.

You were not hearing anything clearly, but you were sure that Nari was complaining and telling Simon that she did not need any help, but he ignored her as he asked for her coat so he could hang it on the coat rack next to the door.

You felt clumsy, awkwardly standing in the middle of the room, unsure of what to do with yourself for the next four seconds. Four seconds that could’ve been four years, because when you lifted your gaze you realized you were standing face to face with Yoongi. An older Yoongi, a Yoongi you haven’t seen before, even if you didn’t remember when was the last time you dared to look him in the eyes, you were sure that back then he looked very different than tonight. His hair was longer, it was pushed back like he ran his finger through it, he was dressed like he just got home from work, a white dress shirt, slacks and a long black winter coat. He was dressed like an adult, a version of him that you never met and maybe never will. His gaze met yours the same way everything met you: by accident. He was not expecting to see you tonight, you knew that, now he was looking at you the same way you were looking at him, like he saw a ghost, maybe you were, maybe he was.

Yoongi opened his mouth to say something, and you had exactly one second to prepare for what he was about to say next, but you didn’t.

“Oh, Pinky.” Two words escaped his lips, tripping over each other as surprise and regret took over his features. He immediately realized he said something he wasn’t supposed to, but you still couldn’t hear clearly, you weren’t sure if you heard that right.

The nickname sent a chill down your spine, you couldn’t answer to it, and he knew it. It was like he said some forbidden word to make you freeze in your place. You couldn’t help but feel like the dumbest person on earth.

You had been thinking the whole afternoon about it, trying to think of ways of looking unbothered when Yoongi showed up tonight, but it took one stupid word for you to stop functioning normally. You wanted to say something, say hi to him and forget that he even dared to call you like that, but you refused to do it.

“Sweetheart! What are you doing here?” Suddenly, your ears were working again. Nari’s high pitched voice snapped you out of your trance, making you look away from her son’s face. It was like she didn’t notice your presence until Yoongi called you by that stupid nickname “I didn’t know you were coming!”

She attempted to stand up again, but you rushed to meet her so she wouldn’t move from her chair to let her pull you into a tight embrace. You took advantage of it, there were no more places to hide in this house, not your mom’s room or behind your brother, so you closed your eyes, hugging her back.

It was only then when you realized how much you missed being hugged like that, you remembered how much you missed such affection. Especially from her, who was always so loving to you, it was a shame that you couldn’t look her son in the eyes.

You shook those thoughts away, acting like his presence didn’t affect you. “I told my mom!” You explained “But she forgot, can you believe it?”

“She should've told me.” She said, pulling away to cup your face in her hands “I haven’t seen you in so long, angel, you look beautiful!”

“Not as much as you do, Nari, are you wearing makeup?” You tried to joke, making her giggle.

“No, darling, I don’t need that stuff.” She shook her head. “C’mon, sit next to me, we have to catch up!”

Four years ago

Seven days before New Year’s Eve.

There definitely was a logical reason why you and Yoongi were locked in the tiniest closet of your Grandma's enormous house.

The answer was somewhere in your mind, somewhere deep where your brain functioned just fine, somewhere where you weren’t trapped between Yoongi’s body and some shelf that was digging on your shoulder blade.

You were looking at each other in silence while you heard your name being called from downstairs. The palm of your hand was covering his mouth, preventing him from saying another word and his fist was clenched around your shirt to maintain his balance. You were trying to ignore how his knuckles were digging on the skin of your stomach, or how his chest was pressed against yours or the way his knee was digging in your inner thigh to keep you from crashing against the shelves full of cleaning products.

You looked at him through your eyelashes, quietly observing how his hair fell on his eyes like a curtain. You took a deep breath, thinking of the reason why you were there in the first place, which was… uhm… uh…

Oh yes! You were hiding. Yes, you were hiding from your grandmother, that was why.

This morning Yoongi showed up at your house to pick you and your mother up in his car. He was wearing sunglasses and a baseball cap with the name of his college on it. He smiled cheekily as he helped you put your bags in the trunk and you rolled your eyes when he opened the door of the passenger seat for you. Your mother was delighted, not only because she didn’t have to drive for two hours to your grandmother’s house, but also because Yoongi had that effect on everyone… including you.

Of course your grandmother loved Yoongi as well. Through her eyes, he was like another version of Simon; he was studying the same thing, he was about to graduate just like him, of course she was delighted to welcome Yoongi with open arms. You weren’t saying that you were not welcomed, or that your grandmother didn’t love you, but you were never received the same way. Yes, she hugged you and kissed you and told you she missed you, but that didn’t mean that later on she would not make comments on the way you dressed, or the way you laughed, or whether you should eat another gingerbread cookie or not.

You could endure all those things, you always did, it was nothing new to you. What you could not endure, howerever, was another second in the presence of your grandmother talking about her neighbor’s daughter. You hardly knew Aria, —the tall and blonde girl with gorgeous blue eyes that was sitting in the living room next to your grandmother— but you knew pretty much everything about her since your grandmother insisted on comparing you to her.

Ever since you were a kid your grandmother liked to compare you to every other girl of your age. You were sure Aria was a nice girl, it wasn’t her fault your grandmother was such a bitch, but you weren’t in the mood to face her today, especially when Simon wasn’t around. You knew she was coming with her family, since your grandma loved to invite the whole neighborhood when the holidays arrived, so when you heard your name being called from downstairs so you would come down and greet the guests, you hid in the nearest room of the house, the cleaning closet towards the end of the hall on the second floor.

After a few seconds you stopped hearing your mother calling for you, but then you started hearing Yoongi, approaching in the hallway as he was looking for you in the room you were staying in. You quickly opened the door, grabbed him by his arms and dragged him into the room with you.

You resolved that problem, the next step was figuring out how you would get out of the current situation.

Yoongi gently grabbed your wrist, removing the hand you were using to cover his mouth. “Aren’t you a little dramatic?” He whispered, completely ignoring the short distance that separated your face from his.

Yoongi’s breath smelled like the red wine he was drinking during lunch, and that should send some alert to your mind to warn you that he shouldn't be this close to you, but your brain seemed to be functioning on a different astral plane, and it was pretty much only focused on Yoongi’s lips.

You felt his hand opening to let go of your crumpled shirt, but then he slowly slid it back to your waist, grabbing you gently.

You gulped.

That seemed completely normal.

“Of course I am.” You whispered back, and you congratulated yourself for being able to speak. “That’s why I am hiding in a closet.”

“And you dragged me with you.” He remarked.

“You were screaming my name, you were going to give me away.” You accused him, digging a finger on his chest.

He nodded, pretending that what you just said made sense “Right, I get it. So… why are you hiding here instead of your room?” He said, emphasizing his words.

You took a quick look around the tiny dark room that wasn’t made to have two people in it. It smelled like bleach and it was full of brooms and dust. It wasn’t the most comfortable place to hide but it seemed like no one opened this room for the last four weeks, so it was safe. You returned your eyes to his face, biting your bottom lip. “My room wasn’t safe.” You explained, dead serious. “Do you think they stopped looking for me already?”

Yoongi rolled his eyes “You sound like someone is trying to kill you.”

Well, no. No one was trying to kill you, but why did you feel the need to run away as if someone was?

“No, it’s worse. If they find me I would have to tell everybody that I dropped out of college.” You effused, making him shake his head in disbelief “You are supposed to be here to support me, aren’t you?” You tried to remind him.

“I am here to support you.” He emphasized. “I am hiding in a closet with you, aren’t I?” You kept silent, knowing he was right. “But you can’t run away from everything, especially if it’s not worth the run, we’ll leave eventually and you’ll forget about your grandma for the rest of the year.”

You sighed, defeated. “I still don’t want to see fucking Aria.”

He scoffed, biting his lip to contain a laugh. “We don’t have to talk to her, we can just say hello and leave.” He said “I mean, but first we have to get out of here.”

He looked around, signaling the room you were squeezed in. He was right, again, he always was. You knew that it was absurd that you were hiding here in the first place, but something inside you urged you to stay there for a few seconds longer. Now you didn’t know if you wanted to stay there to avoid the guests or because you were getting too comfortable in his arms (you already knew the answer).

You had no idea what was happening in Yoongi’s mind, but you were too busy swimming in the warm brown of his eyes to even care, you were too busy dreaming to be interested in what this meant.

You must’ve been long gone for a few seconds, because you were only made aware that you’ve been silent for a while when you heard his soft voice.

“Pinky,” He called for you, pulling you out of the haze of your mind, but the thing that finally snapped you out of it was when you were suddenly caught off guard when you, out of nowhere, felt his hand touching your face, squeezing your cheeks between his fingers “are we going to stop hiding or not?” He calmly asked, making your heart skip a beat.

You blinked, feeling your knees getting weak. If you were speechless before, now you have become completely mute.

What. Was. He. Doing.

And what was he playing?

You couldn’t miss the way his eyes shined in the dark and how your heart swirled in your chest, becoming small the second you watched a flash of a smirk tugging at the corner of his pink lips. Was he fucking laughing at you?

And why were you standing there with your mouth hung open, racking your brain for something to say? Your mind couldn’t process if he was just playing with you, not right now, not ever. You didn’t know what game he was playing, but you decided you were not letting him win regardless. You grabbed his wrist, pulling his hand away from your face.

“Don’t treat me like a baby…” You said in a low voice, but you didn’t know what you were talking about anymore. Everything stopped making sense the moment you dragged him into this room.

He squeezed your waist, digging his fingers on your skin over your cotton shirt. “But you sound like a baby.” He murmured, leaning over you just enough to make your noses brush with each other.

Your heart dropped to your stomach, leaving you without air. God, you felt sick. This wasn’t real, this was a product of your imagination, like every single second you spent with Yoongi these last weeks. “Yoongi…” You whispered, trying to warn him, but instead it sounded like you were pleading. You might as well have done both; warning him because if he didn’t stop you would start believing whatever he was doing, and pleading because you were not sure if you could take it.

He freed himself from your grasp, grazing his thumb along your jaw bone. You couldn’t recall a time, not even in your darkest dreams, where he touched you like that.

“What?” He whispered back, his voice hoarse. “What are you going to do?”

The room laid in profound silence for a moment, the weight of your heart suffocated you and the urge to answer him, to smack him in the face, to run away, increased in your chest. You held your breath, watching him open his mouth about to say something, but then the room shook when someone knocked on the door like they were about to knock it down, being followed by the strong sound of your mom’s voice, making you jump away from him.

“Dear, don’t tell me you’re there again.” She yelled loud enough for the whole block to hear, knocking again for good measure.

Yoongi’s arms fell on each side of his body, and you couldn’t help but feel disappointed. He lifted an eyebrow, ignoring what just happened. “Again, huh?”

You rolled your eyes, pushing his chest to keep a proper distance between your body and his “Shut up.” You gritted your teeth, refusing to acknowledge the warm temperature of your face. You hated to see that there was no trace of embarrassment on his features, just pure amusement. Meanwhile, you didn’t need a mirror to know how red your cheeks were.

Three more knocks. “C’mon, get out there already!” Your mother kept yelling.

When you finally turned around and opened the door, your mother’s gaze fell upon you, looking at you with everything but surprise. It wasn’t the first time you hid there, you did it a couple times when you were a kid and fought with Simon. Your mother was well aware of your hiding place, you just expected her to think you were too old to be found here again.

The surprise came after, when her eyes caught a sigh of another face in the dark. She knew you were going to be hidden here, what she didn’t expect was to find Yoongi right next to you, maybe way too close to each other.

Her eyes widened, out of words “Oh, dear,... Yoongi… Uh, I didn’t- I didn’t know you were both here...” The sentence died in your mother’s lips, but you ignored her reaction, you stepped out of the room, fanning yourself with your hand to cool down and storming out of the situation.

“Sorry, I was dragged into this, Lila.” Yoongi explained, sounding way more composed than you, but the situation didn’t look good for either of you.

“Well, I can only imagine…” She said, but you did not miss her undertone.

You walked back to what was supposed to be your room (and Yoongi’s), leaving both of them behind.

“Your daughter can be very persuasive.” He continued to explain, his voice following you.

A low hum of your mom finished the conversation, she left trying to put together what she just saw, and you hurried your pace so you could lock yourself in the room and leave him outside.

“Pinky!” He exclaimed, stopping you at the door frame.

You needed a second alone, but he was not willing to give it to you.

You turned around, exasperated “What!?” You snapped, but he didn’t care one bit.

“Didn’t you want to get out of here?”

Present

The day Ian came to your apartment to pick up the last box with his things, you finally called your mother to tell her you and him had broken up. You had only told Minnie by then, but it got stuck in your throat for two weeks, ready to be vomited at any moment.

Your mother always said that it was important to grieve things, to be mad about them, to be sad, to cry about them, otherwise you were going to carry that weight while pretending to be okay until, someday, it would explode in your face in the worst possible way. When you broke up with Ian you patiently waited for the tears, for the pain in your chest, for the sad memories of three years with him to arrive one night at three am. You waited for the grief in your car when some sappy love song started playing, or when you went for the groceries and came face to face with the huge advertisement with his face on it, but it never came.

You had an affection for Ian that was not easy to understand, but you liked his company, you liked his unconventional jokes, that he was politically incorrect, that he laughed in the worst moments, but you were never sure you loved him, were you a horrible person for that? For not feeling bad, for not crying for him?

When your mom picked up the phone and you told her why you called, you broke down crying before finishing the sentence, you felt all the emotions stacking up your throat as you sobbed uncontrollably. You soon realized you weren’t crying for Ian, you weren’t crying because you missed him, not even for the proposal, you were crying because you needed a hug from your mom and she was four hours away.

“Women grieve during the relationship.” Minnie theorized when you told her that you didn’t feel bad for Ian “It’s normal if you don’t miss him.”

Maybe she was right, but maybe you were not grieving your relationship with Ian, but the person you were before leaving home.

Now that you were there, sitting at the table with the people that have always been your family, you knew that you were supposed to feel at ease, but the anxiety you felt at the thought of someone mentioning the big break up, as Minnie called it, was stronger. You knew everyone knew, and you knew everyone was thinking about it. Everyone but you, because you were a bit too distracted with a certain someone sitting across the table, just in front of you. A certain someone who couldn’t stop crossing looks with you.

“Aren’t they planning to make a movie about that?” You heard Simon ask, shaking off your thoughts.

As much as you wished not to be the center of attention, you should’ve known that none of your wishes would come true tonight, because every topic, every question, every comment was being redirected at you and your life in the city.

You weren’t paying much attention to the conversation, but you were sure they were talking about a play you starred in two years ago, which contained one of your most acclaimed performances. You remembered those days with pure contentment and pride, but you had numerous reasons for not wanting to talk about it.

“So I’ve heard.” You just said, looking at the half eaten portion of lasagna on your plate.

“Shouldn’t you be in it?” Nari asked this time “You were wonderful in that.”

You smiled, shrugging. “Thanks, but if they don’t offer it to me beforehand I would have to audition again. It’s a different process of casting I suppose.”

You heard almost everyone humming in response, and felt a pair of eyes fixed on the side of your face that you were still trying to ignore. In that moment you decided you would not concede said eyes another single glance tonight, as if you could ever keep your promises.

“But wouldn’t you like to be in it?” Your mom nonchalantly asked “If it were the same casting, I mean.”

You looked at her for a moment, expecting her to realize what she was asking, but she didn’t. You knew she had no business remembering every play you’ve been in, or every casting, or every detail of the life you decided to never share, but you still waited for a moment, expecting her to remember that in that very same play you ended up killing Ian’s character by stabbing him in the heart.

Nothing like reality, you thought.

“Not really.” You chuckled, bitterly “Some things are made to be done just once, it might wear off.”

You breathed out, thinking that you successfully avoided the topic without having to give any explanations.

But of course, once again, you were wrong.

“Oh, sorry, baby.” Your mother backtracked “I forgot you were there with…”

The name died on her throat, immediately knowing that the comment was unnecessary.

You pursed your lips, shaking your head “It’s fine…”

The conversation could have followed its course then, you could have changed the topic yourself, you could have perfectly saved the conversation by making something up, but Nari was quicker.

“Oh, darling, I’m sorry about that, I just heard about it this morning.” She followed your mom, giving you the condolences as if someone just died. “I had no idea.”

“Mom…” You heard Yoongi’s voice echoing in the room as a warning, and without noticing, your gaze landed on him again for a brief moment, immediately breaking your promise. You mentally cursed yourself, taking your eyes off him when he offered an apologetic smile.

Nari looked at him, annoyed at him for scolding her, “I’m just saying, I hope you’re okay, I know it’s not easy.”

“Mom.” Yoongi spoke again, this time more insistent, but his mother paid it no mind.

“It’s okay.” You said without looking at him “I’m okay, things like this happen.”

You didn’t know what things you were referring to, if the break up, the proposal, the leaked pictures, the fact that your ex boyfriend stabbed you in the back. Things like that did not happened everyday, you weren’t supposed to get used to them, but you acted like you already were.

She nodded, looking at you with eyes full of concern. “I was so surprised, honestly. Didn’t you want to get married?”

The directness of the question caught you off guard, so you couldn’t help but chuckle nervously. Everyone could sense how invasive and personal was the question, but the fact that she wasn’t trying to tip-toe around you made you smile softly. You loved Nari, and you knew she meant no harm, so, only for now, you decided to answer with the truth.

“Well, yes, someday.” You quietly professed, the words leaving your mouth like a sigh “But with the right person.”

That was enough to end the conversation, she smiled at you the same way you smiled at her and you could swear she could sense the pain in your heart, not because of Ian, but because of everything else.

Then, Phil began talking about something else and everyone joined the conversation, too scared of saying something wrong and making you cry, but you were still stuck in the moment. After some minutes, when you felt the ache in your chest increasing, you excused yourself and left the table to exit the house through the back door in the kitchen.

You took a deep breath, letting the cold air fill your lungs as you closed the door behind you. You sat at the bench next to Phil’s plants, trying to catch your breath. You were sure you were about to find a home somewhere, you found yourself surrounded by everything that used to feel like it, but you still felt like a foreign person, you still felt like a stranger, a traitor. You couldn’t find the person you were, or the fragments that you didn’t make disappear.

You weren’t strong enough yet, you understood that now. The wind in your hair reminded you that you still tried, but the lack of air in your lungs just told you how immature you still were. Still, you were mindful none of this would be easy, but you just needed a few seconds to compose yourself and then you could come back to the dining room to finish your lasagna. That sounded just fine.

When you were about to get up from your seat, you heard it. The creaking sound of the back door opening, you observed the trace of warm light that came from inside, and then, you heard that voice again.

Inevitably, your eyes met him again, whose head was peeking to verify if you were outside, and when he saw that you were, in fact, there, he closed the door behind him, leaving the two of you alone in the cold darkness of the night. What was he doing?

“You’re here.” Yoongi’s words were accompanied by some misty breath, lingering in the air before disappearing. You lowered your gaze, nervously looking at your feet. ‘You’re here’, he said, and for some reason he sounded relieved.

You were confused, you didn’t understand why he chose to follow you to the backyard, but he invited himself to stay there, leaning on the wall far enough from you.

“It’s cold here.” He announced, trying to dissipate the tension you were creating by staying silent.

You nodded your head, agreeing, but you believed you shouldn’t even grant him that.

Yoongi sighed, “I’m sorry about my mom,” He finally said “I’m sure it wasn’t her intention to put you in an uncomfortable situation.” You tried not to roll your eyes. Was that was he doing? Playing the role of an advocate? “She didn’t mean to sound rude or anything, she just has no filter.”

“It’s okay, I know.” You murmured under your breath. “It wasn’t her fault, it’s just me.”

He kept quiet, he didn’t seem too content with that answer but what could he do about it? You both knew it was the only thing you were going to tell him.

“Fine, but… you shouldn’t be out here… without a coat.” He awkwardly said, making you frown “It’s cold.”

You suppress the urge to punch him in the face, instead, you put your hands between your thighs because he was right, it was cold and you didn’t have a coat on, if you stayed too long outside you were going to get sick.

“I know it’s cold.” You acknowledged “I’m going inside in a second.”

You waited patiently for him to leave, expecting those words to be enough for him to leave you alone for a few more seconds, but he didn’t. He stood there, in the other corner of the porch looking at you like he had something else to say. You didn’t care, you wanted to not care, it was meaningless.

“Are you… I just, uhm… Are you okay?” He stumbled over his words, but you dismissed the way your heart clenched in response.

“Yoongi…” You groaned, intending to sound annoyed at him, but the name came out of your voice like something intimate, something like a secret, it echoed in the air, resonating with the same tenderness that he pronounced your nickname upon seeing you tonight.

“What? I mean-”

“I’m okay, I’ll be there in an instant.” You interrupted him. He didn’t have another option but to agree.

He made his way to the door, but lingered in there for a moment. With one hand on the doorknob, he glanced longingly at you as if he was expecting you to stop him. “You can go now.” You rushed him.

“I know, I know, sorry.” He said, knowing he was caught. “I’m just glad to see you, that's all.”

Before you even got the chance to curse him, he disappeared through the door like nothing happened, once again.

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traincat · 9 days ago

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hello traincat!!!! just recently gone through my spideytorch rabbit hole again. only now it is worse. and i’m actually considering writing fics about those two losers…

i LOVE your villain!peter fic, and i have seen a few other premise where peter is the Spider. but now its got me thinking and now i have brainworms of villian!johnny. i think of johnny and he will always be that sincere idiot that always puts others needs before his own. maybe if i break him enough mentally….. hmm decisions decisions….

thoughts?

also ur the bestest ever and i spent valentines giggling and reading your fics… i hate those stupid losers(i am obsessed with them…)

Thank you for reading my fics! I hope you had a good Valentine's Day. 💖

So it's my opinion that you can push pretty much any character into villain territory, you just need to figure out the right buttons to push. Some are admittedly easier than others. With Peter, for The Spider and the Last Spark, I had a very definite breaking point in mind. Spoilers for my own fic but the Spider's universe is a canon divergent version of 616 where, during Civil War, the Kingpin's assassin succeeds and murders both Mary Jane and Aunt May before Peter reaches the motel room.

This wasn't a totally original idea or anything. What If? Back in Black goes in a similar direction, killing off MJ, although its Peter is ultimately less successful than mine. I decided to kill off Aunt May too to completely strip Peter of any positive influence, including his own universe's Johnny, who died as a result of the attack he suffers at the beginning of Civil War.

I also took a lot of inspiration from What If? Grim Hunt, where Peter ultimately doesn't back down and decides to kill Kraven. (Notably my inspiration for his costume -- the black suit sans the mask -- was from Grim Hunt, and also his regular collection of slutty, slutty bathrobes.) The regular Grim Hunt makes a prediction via Madame Web that if Peter did kill Kraven, it would set him on a path where he wouldn't be able to stop killing, which is something Peter himself muses on in Spider-Man: Friends and Enemies. So I had a lot of canon information to use as a foundation.

(What If? Grim Hunt) "You killed someone." "I did that for you too!" Haha. Love him. What a freak. The other big thing I was considering with Peter was his personality flaws and how I could magnify those. Peter's big thing is responsibility, which on the flipside means he often assumes responsibility for other people. The ugly flipside here is control. Peter loves to be in control of a situation, and why wouldn't he? He's the strongest, fastest, and usually the smartest person in any civilian room he walks into. That's a big power rush. So take someone who is angry and grieving, who had that control stripped away from along with any positive influence in his life all in one night -- that's a powder keg.

(ASM #542)

Regret was a big factor for my Spider, too. Regret that he couldn't protect MJ, Aunt May, Johnny. Regret over his dead child. Regret that he didn't provide a better life for MJ when she was alive. My goal was to work from a place of pain and transform it into this little kingdom of control. Peter's not powerful enough to take over, say, the world, but he could take over New York and hold it as his own sovereign territory, especially with how broken the community was during Civil War, and especially with a big show of power, which was why I had him kill the Hulk. (Whether or not Peter could kill the Hulk in canon is a debate I'm not interested in. What's important is that Peter does canonically state that he's figured out a method to kill the Hulk, and I absolutely believe that he believes he could do it.)

So how do we apply this method to Johnny? It's a little bit trickier, because I don't have a clear breaking point in canon where I'm like, okay, if we shifted X, Y, and Z, I could see this being a springboard into supervillainy. Johnny is, at heart, an extremely kind and moral character. He's also not self-motivated the way Peter is -- Johnny functions as part of a team, and when he explores things on his own they tend to be hobby related, like racing and pop stardom. He's not usually an independent actor.

On the other hand, we can use that to our advantage. "If you break him enough mentally" sure, that works, but how are we going to do that? My first thought again is to strip the support system. I think Ben in particular has to go -- we see how Johnny spirals when he and Ben aren't on good terms. (Take "has to go" however you want for your individual context. I don't think it strictly has to mean killing characters off. I had to separate Flash from Peter in The Spider and the Last Spark and I had him lead the rebel army.) Reed and Sue, I think there's wiggle room. Is either of them a villain? Johnny's easily influenced by his loved ones, especially when he's young. If you want to play into his naivete, I think there's the beginnings of a villain route there.

Alternatively, we can play into the destructive nature of Johnny's powers. I talked a little about Claremont's take on the origin story recently, where Johnny absorbs the heat from the shuttle crash and then immediately goes Nova. The only reason Sue and Reed survive is that Ben covers them. But traditionally, Ben isn't rocky until a few moments after the crash. What if his own transformation hadn't taken place yet? Ben still covers Reed and Sue, but it's not enough, and Johnny accidentally kills his family. Add in the more modern Fantastic Four origin approach where the Four are held, at least temporarily, by the military, and you've got an isolated, guilt stricken Johnny who is facing his worst fear: being alone.

(Fantastic Four #214)

(Fantastic Four: First Family)

That's easily enough to break him. I think you could write a villain!Johnny based solely on this. But again, Johnny's not a very independent actor. So some kind of outside influence is immensely helpful. Another supervillain? Someone with other motivations who sees a deeply lonely, emotionally scarred young man with enormous power, and recognizes someone easy to manipulate? Would Johnny even care if he was being manipulated at that point?

Which brings me to the big thing with Johnny for me. What does Johnny want most in the world? He wants to be loved. And while I think a solo Johnny villain story is interesting, part of me is always a little bit committed to the idea of villain couple Peter and Johnny. (Which is what the Spider was clearly trying to swing in The Spider and the Last Spark.) Johnny, lost, directionless, craving the affection that Peter has to give in spades, and Peter, with the capability to be protective and devoted, but who also becomes infatuated at the drop of a hat. Peter, obsessive. Johnny, yearning. A huge hole in both of their hearts that's never quite filled. So yeah, why not take over the criminal underground? It's not like they have anything else to do on a Saturday night.

#*replies #spideytorch #traincat talks comics #long post/#sometimes codependency is fun and sexy

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saoirseyun · 2 months ago

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— .ᐟ ౨ৎ . . . 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞. 001

𝖲𝖸𝖭𝖮𝖯𝖲𝖨𝖲 — today is the day, at last. much less to your own relief, however. attending your wedding in the local prefecture, aomori; and leave once and for all that drenched life in the brothel... let's only hope that you last in your new life.

𝖢𝖮𝖭𝖳𝖤𝖭𝖳 𝖶𝖠𝖱𝖭𝖨𝖭𝖦 — unreliable narrator, bad writing? idk its been a while since i wrote long works, blunt humor, mentions of sex, taboos, historical inaccuracies, unsettling behavior from dazai, possibly poor depictions of Japanese culture, no beta we die like oda

𝖠𝖴𝖳𝖧𝖮𝖱'𝖲 𝖭𝖮𝖳𝖤 — happy new year & rn im screaming crying bc here it is! my first fic after march 30th. please do enjoy to your heart's content~

𝖶𝖮𝖱𝖣 𝖢𝖮𝖴𝖭𝖳 — 3.0k words, partially proofread

CHECK OUT HALF AN HOUR FOR LOVE, OVERVIEW.

Japanese terminology; kamuro - a female child servant who serves courtesans temporarily until they graduate. shinzō - a young female servant, older than the kamuros, who also serves courtesans but has now been fully bought by the brothel. one/ne - to refer an older sister. obasan - "aunt" or "middle-aged woman" in Japanese. kitsune no yomeiri - a folktale about foxes having a wedding. The belief varies between being a good omen or a bad omen. nanakorobi yaoki - Japanese proverb for resilience. kanji - Japanese writing system in the form of borrowed Chinese characters.

Honorifics; chan - Term of endearment. san - One with respect. sama - One with higher respect and is formal. dono - Literally used like "My lord." ue - Denotes a high status.

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓.

It poured rain that day; paint the skies with suspense and tension between the pristine clouds, a sunshower. When a beloved shinzō gingerly applied a sweet shade of peach blush to your cheeks and covered your face in salient white powder; stroking bold, black liner to your lower lid with a thin brush as to regard high standards of beauty whilst you remain aimless to admire the falling drops of water hit the eaves of your dormitory—drip back to the ground. You were at the least comforted with the weather's appearance coming abroad to stay as your companion, however still, oh so not much relaxed with the hour of your wedding ticks close to its arrival. You didn't even have a single chance to know who is taking your hand in marriage, for goodness sake. A subtly, a few weeks back you were informed by a close woman that a fine gentleman is likely interested in getting committed to you...

You've perk at the voice of the 30-year-old shinzō. In question, belongs to beloved friendly Akashi. Genuinely the definition of safe haven in your case if it counts close friends. "Oi, Jun'ai! A fine fellow been's collective to have you as his own, aren't you aware? Madam-sama does keeping 'em around too! By the teahouse." Her accent's rough and undoubtedly native to common farm villages—and also not forgetting to mention that charisma's energetic and careless as ever today, without a doubt of surprise of course. And bright yells as the poor Akashi had such terrible hearing, she'll never know how loud she is. Gushing you over to the area, finding the old lady herself amidst the aftermath of such agreement, dare say. There's a signed paper with extravagant black ink, strokes elegant front of the elder—smirking with pride regardless of you chiming in to inquire about the stranger.

Who, you may ask, but she simply says that it's best to keep it a surprise… You weren't able to keep composure since that day.

As who does that?! Outrageous, utterly outrageous, you'd whisper harsh mutters only thinking about it even a single time in a day. Oftentimes resist the urge of cursing at that damn woman for casting you aside in saving grace for the brothel's funding and, many of other's finances.

Eyeing your dear assistant tuck delicate, golden pins and fine décor to your lovely hair—all you can do in anticipation was hope he was also a good-looking, refined man who wasn't either younger or older than your age. Preferably of status, sure, that's a most likely. He manages to pay double the amount for you to leave your workplace, after all. He has to be, otherwise you're immediately disappointed by your own lack of judgement. You need to be a lot more cruel to yourself, but it hurts plentiful.

"...Nee-san? Are you feeling okay?" Voiced the young 14-year-old. Who consist attentive to adding your makeup to the delicate skin and face. Her face visuals a pit of worry you'd rarely see in this type of workload. You weren't even sure how to react. "I will be all right," Is what you answered reluctantly.

But the shinzō knew you best.

She was drowning into you eyes a lot more personal, and, rather heartwarming. A sigh. "Ōnami-chan, I beg. It's not of high relevance..."

"If it refers to you, then it has to be." The younger girl insists while she timid to touch your sleeve. Still much a grown-up child, sometimes you forget that too... Your fingers met the scalp of your head out of stress and uncertainty of what to put it. "...Trust me now. This can be excused." Despite having this unsaturated need to tell your closest servant everything without regard and loosening the grasps of staying ideally perfect, no complaints.

The only thing you were to offer in the end was a weightless fondle in her neat hair. Affection like being a genuine member of one's family or just reassuring an immature girl who, yes—older and very well more aware, still innocent and a tiny tad bit of cluelessness. Two reasons can go a long way.

Perhaps she wondered to your conflicted state as to why the reaction. The situation at hand is, at least by an outsider's perspective, is dream-like. Watching her older sister, the woman she has served since childhood to be married off to some well-known or not handsome noble of the court. What fantasy, unfortunately it's our reality.

"Nee-san, do you adore him to some degree?" How where you to speak to a question as broad and vague as this... That you were obviously not into a man that you didn't even knew existed, how could one love? "To be frank, I am not the most interested..." Even when the life of nobility and esteemed high ranks sound greatly to one's likely. "I can't help imagine but break the poor man's heart sooner or later if it so be it. Either that or potentially unhappy in my own marriage."

"Will I last more than a month there?"

The answer to such is as unclear as midday mist, compared at even evening's pouring drops of rain.

"...Do me a favor, Ōnami-chan. Visit me once in a while—let's say every other month. Then, must you always be sure that I am well and whether or not I'm returning back to this life. I'll write a letter to a buddhist temple in case."

It was too much to do out your own distrust and anxiety in him, of course. Maybe you're exaggerating, and yet only can the Gods know what may happen in time's passing. The most richest people of them all tends to be the nastiest... Heeding your words, the shinzō smiles.

"Okay!" A certain heartfelt warm in your veins. The little girl Ōnami was sure to keep that to her mind.

With the bare minimum of excitement inside of your heart, you've scurry yourself out of the brothel as a final leave to your old world into the carriage—hurriedly saying spoken goodbyes to the kind workers and fellow courtesans, the sweet little kamuros reckless to play out their times in the stunning gardens and hardworking shinzōs… And, yes, of course—do not forget your Obasan on the way. She might as well demean your name quicker in the whorehouse than disgracing the family bloodline and lineage. That out of your way at last, seated on the backseat as the couch leaves the Red Lantern District. To which, the moving world in the foreground of your eyes although you've went into a state of another faint reverie inside your head. On which the scenery fades and soon, a vivid trance that can only be described as unexplainable. Inexplicable dread to your veins just raises your discomfort knowing that you... You were living fine well enough. But... but of course! Why wouldn't the Madam accept such rising numbers on papers? What else was there to make of the situation than romanticise? You must be at least sicker than a loose serial killer.

Stiff optimism fixates your face. Looking out to the carrier and spot every little couple on the roads complete such mundane tasks together under the rain in a sake of not facing loneliness. You weren't sure of a word anymore on what to do. However, making these ceremonies intercept to that kind of point... Ah, how it sickens. The way of ill that's akin to the waves disrupt your unfortunate stomach during a sail travel. In all actuality—case in point—its sensation were although too alike to what you're going through at the moment attending to the wedding. The silence deafens you to a premature funeral! Hearing voices now seems a lot more comforting.

Alas, onwards moment's finality, the carriage stops to the relief of the body. Motion itself places to a hault and your entourage of men escorts you off the ride with the protection of an umbrella covering your head. Here's when your form itself took full stillness and enters a sort, self-control state. Your movements are gracious as ever but you're definitely not moving as to avail. You could only think what's to come. Relentless. Think of your life, over and endless until the head's decomposed itself into liquids. Not even the presence of the clan head's eldest child manages to snap you out of musing.

"...You should be the luxurious Jun'ai-san, is that correct?" The woman sat across the table from yours. She was calm and obviously held regard to such respect in the house as murmurs and shy stares from young maidens chatter about her in disclose, their own little fantasy, a kind of imagination you've grown used to from those disgusting men in the sex industry. What pigs. You've snapped back, forcing your head to the topic at hand as ahe serves the matcha tea. You nod, "Splendid. Then may you refer to me as Dazai Masako, if you will. I'm glad that you're able to make it to our humble mansion." You twinkle at her words and show signs of flattery—although having heard exchanges like these from wealthy clients in the past... "The pleasure is mine to meet you."

"I'm sure you're aware why I've arrived?" You inquire, to be more certain as Masako then flicks her head. Only for it to fade into a slight, disappointed frown. "...Marry my younger brother Osamu, yes, I'm acknowledged. Pardon my critique, however, kind lady. Except you're prohibited to fully engage with my son." Says the clan head's eldest—the sister—who... Pause, what? Hold on. Now hasn't the supervisor explained to you in person that the wedding's immediate? Today, in particular! "Yes, originally so." Masako clarifies, she gestures to an open windows. "Yet as you may noticed much earlier before entering the abode, the weather is not ideal. Therefore, shall it grant misfortune over the lovebirds and ruin the gathering for guests alike. My sincerest apologies..." White powder stains light to your fingertips as you can't foresee this day getting doubled the horrible! It's a tragedy... In your entire own sense, there is not a single opportunity at chance will you ride a half-soggy carriage of return. You didn't knew the folklore of kitsune no yomeiri migrated to Aomori as well. Dazai-ue continues,

"It would be our honour to offer the comfort hospitality of this house. And I suppose it shan't be an issue for you to see him at once. It surely have been long way here to Aomori, yes? We will discuss the formalities soon after meeting Osamu..." ...Roughly translates to tomorrow. The head of the clan's task for you to see him by now seems too easy, but it had to be some pity.

"...Yes." A reluctant answer to your rose-colored lips. Did the products still look good after cold winds meet the face? "How generous of you, ma'am. I prolong my gratitude. For I, can only but offer a mere humble."

It was what matters. You'll commit to this man whether or not you do fundamentally enjoy it—so might as well take a glance at his face. None double taking as you took another deep breath with a servant leading to his room, finally, you think. Meeting him for the first time, when that gluttonous madam of yours hide him from you. Left to the hands of a darling female maid as she takes you to where he resides, parade the prestigious, elegant halls of your presence and careful to approach that damn door and feast your pure eyes.

Said gentle-hearted patron proceeds to leave your wake upon reaching the door facing front of you right now, a polite bow. Gesturing her leave. and instead went off and serve his... Siblings? Assuming so. As your head catches sights of a small, worn-out family portrait next to the door. Clear to not tell which one is Dazai Osamu. Right, right. Your supposed've, soon-to-be husband and hand in marriage, The Dazai Osamu... It's quite bothersome—ponder what's so special about this name particularly and not the father's? Better question yet, why must every woman gossip with a slither of his mention among useless conversations? Now you can't get Dazai Osamu's name out of your head.

And for one reason.

The noise, bleak and rather frank done as if swift in action, behind you caught you off guard and the little silhouette of that man.

"...Dazai-dono, is that correct?" Is what you've been instinctively told by your own gut to try and receive the brunet noble's attention away from the stillness of beautiful ornamental flowers. Unbothered, frozen in the skilled crafts of capture life through the hands of clay and fine arts. Frightened to your snicker, he awkwardly reaches for his fallen smoking pipe. Well, that should be the one causing the single noise but how on earth is it so full of volume...? Can that be a thing?

"And who else shall it be, the one and only, sweetheart?"

His movements—grace akin to the shows of swan lakes and beautiful doves taking leap to the unknown heavens, clouds, and skies with free, open wings; and boundless to the world beneath thee. A skip to your chest, admiring his facial features—the vague dimples wrinkle his lips and stupid, horrendously stupid, smile. Divine mahogany eyes in the corners of an almond-shape and a few cute baby hairs hang behind those pine-shaded bangs. Dazai softly gestures yourself nearer to him, step on the higher platforms of his room, no matter of what status you are, maybe Dazai spoke quietly. Or forgot to use the mouth. The brunet-haired noble examines the physique of that body of yours and fondly admires your face, even though covered and hidden under all of that makeup, he manages to crack a small smirk. "Forgive me, but... Ah, you're... As beautiful as up close."

It's cost him an expense of his whole sense to control his nerves and desire to have you on his lap, held lovingly—darling—precious. Importantly, as embracing your beloved form to his closely as humanely possible. If you're ingenuous in allowing that off the bat... How shameless of him. "Ah, you must be humbling me, my lord. I don't deserve such remarks so early." Gently, you exclaim. Twist the fan to your liking and cover your mouth of kind elegance and timid meekness. By the celestial Gods above, he's head struck although you didn't start seducing the noble with your pretty long lashes... Dear, it stole the time to apply too! Infatuating. That's less time trying to appear loving to him, sure. Well...

It's hard to be doubtful that he does look to love you in those starry eyes and blunt browns. Even harder to imply whether or not if this factor relies importance.... Keeping close to.

"Oh but I am usually quite certain as to what I say whenever, lovely Jun'ai-chan. So to speak... I don't intend to be harsh." Dazai puts to rest his smoking pipe. Cast away soon after picking it up...

"Spare me a good time and listen, I beg, my dear Jun'ai-chan. I am absolutely certain that this must be the most abnormal thing you'll hear today—or ever—throughout your entire lifetime; yet I cannot be held back. Albeit the humble nature resides me, nanakorobi yaoki." Dazai offers his hand, and so you've placed yours in return soon after Dazai reaches to you. "...Since the parade weeks ago sitting adrift by spring's exposition, you've caught these eyes for yourself." Dazai starts. "I—I can't be helped, guilty as charged! But in its climax, I have hurried my legs to the brothel where you used to live. Then... Respectfully having you became a sort of necessity in my brain."

Who's to guess that this fine, handsome young noble is indeed this selfish—greedy?

Then again, who are you to reflect so hasty? Oh, no. How exactly must you put it with him? "What pleasure." You exclaim, feign shock. "In all truthfulness, I'm much more relieved in hearing those kinds of words from you at the moment..." ...And just what are you thinking?! Saying it dilly-dally won't save you from anything. "I'm not disapproving your ways, Dazai-dono. Matter of fact, I appreciate it." He completes a soft-spoken grin that's both boyish and ugly. Ugly in a way that's good-natured, and whole. Akin to the luminous burning sun which lasts eternal and hurts your eyes... Let us become a bit realistic here:

Dazai's hand takes the kettle of refreshing green tea into his hands then proceed to serve you a cup—along a charming smile. "What a merciful woman you are. I hadn't had a message that you were going to be a forgiving type... Well, shall I cherish upon wondrous setting beneath fallen sakura petals of early bloom; and pray to beloved heavens above—with a drenched heart—must it not go soon."

"A heart for poetry?" It's the first you've taken akin to catch on about Dazai.

A couplet, kind of freeform in a sense amidst those twin lines the noble recited with grace and honour.

"Indeed, belladonna. Let me ask you... As it soothes the soul countless of times, how can one not be compromised into the elegance, intricate, and exquisite lines?" To the rhythm of his voice, endear and charming, he takes a pen between two fingers and strokes across a random bit of paper next to Dazai in idle. "What touching words. I much agree." Was all you managed to reply. His writing was neat, written the kanji for what seems to read 'peafowl.' You felt flustered over closely admiring his movements, notably Dazai's fingers. "May we perform poems until the rising sun meets dew grass and kiss the windows clear?"

You weren't expecting your mouth to speak for itself. You only thought of so as light rain drips slowly and comes to a close. It's presumably the late night by now, time flew.

The young noble smiles with such tender elation at the suggestion at hand between him and you. "It'd be ill-mannered for me to decline, no?" He paints a small portrait of himself, modest, he is more than thrilled at your words, isn't he? Although it was basic splats of ink on paper arranged in a way of ornamental flowers Dazai admired his eyes to.

...Maybe you were being a little too arrogant about him.

𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭.

@wasdy-san, @inojuuy, @imkwikly, @nonexistence1199, @emyyy007, @coilai, @writingandmusing, @hypocritic-trash-baby

#일본어 귀족 au #my post #—; unclassified fics.#2024/12/28 #bsd #bungou stray dogs #bsd dazai #dazai osamu #bsd dazai osamu x reader #bsd dazai x reader #dazai x reader #dazai x fem reader #dazai osamu x reader #dazai x yn #dazai x y/n #dazai x you

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rhymeswithfart · 4 months ago

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Please look below for important info taken from this post

"Rania Youssef: Rania's father was the breadwinner of the family. He suffered from an untreated chronic illness that took his life during the acceleration of the genocide. She needs help taking care of her family while they grieve this immense loss."

This is a vetted campaign. Low on funds, €3,157/60,000. Please read and share their story, more under the cut.

El Shab Hussein has vouched for this fundraiser. More info on vetting here.

Rania's story in her words:

"Hello, peace be upon you, free world. I want to introduce myself and my story. My name is Rania, from Gaza, specifically from the north. I am 25 years old. I am a graduate of Geographic Information Systems (GIS). I am also talented in drawing. Let's go to the basis of my launching this campaign. I created this campaign in light of the circumstances we live in in Gaza and the destruction of my future. Therefore, I am trying to collect donations in order to rebuild my future that was destroyed and save my family from destruction due to the war and starvation in northern Gaza. This requires a lot of money, and we are a family of all women (4), including my child who is not married at the age of 13, and I have a brother who is not married at the age of 18. (The money I collect will go to) 1/ To complete my studies and achieve my dreams and live like every girl as it should be. 2/ Some of the money will go to provide food and drink for my family in northern Gaza, which is very expensive due to the famine we are suffering from. 3/ And part of it will go to the evacuation process from Gaza To Egypt for me and my family to be safe

Let's complete my story and the meaning I lived in northern Gaza

/In the first days of the war, we received a threat due to the seriousness of the situation to leave the house. I left my house with my family to my relatives' house. We stayed there for 5 days, then the bombing intensified and we were forced to flee to Al-Shifa Hospital. Here, my meaning began. We lived in very frightening conditions. After several days, Al-Shifa Hospital was besieged and my family and I were stuck there. The reason for the siege was that I lost my father, who suffered from chronic diseases due to lack of treatment. My father was 51 years old. My father was the breadwinner for my family. After his departure, we had no breadwinner except my younger brother. After several days of the siege, we left the hospital to my aunt's house, who lives in Sheikh Radwan, an area called Abu Iskandar. After that, we were besieged again, and until now we are displaced from one place to another, with famine and violent bombing

Therefore, I ask every free person to help me until I reach the goal that I will It makes me and my family live safely

Note the picture above is from the balcony of my demolished house Thank you all."

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midnightlizard · 11 months ago

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Christmas help

Kate Bishop x gn!reader

Summary: basically the plot of Hawkeye, but with reader as Kate's partner

Warnings: Hawkeye spoilers, angst with a happy ending, some curse words

Word count: 5256

"okay I know it may sound crazy, but you have to believe me"

"why wouldn't I believe you?"

"well, because this is really crazy"

"Kate honey, we've been together for a while, I think I’m used to your level of craziness." You shrugged your shoulders.

"no-ugh" She removed one hand from her pocket to grab your wrist and pull you into a less crowded street, which was hard considering it was Christmas time. "this time, it was crazy for me too. I met...an avenger"

At this you widened your eyes. A thing that not many people knew, your girlfriend being one of them, is that you were the newest avenger, fighting crimes for almost five years now, but the other avengers agreed that with you still being a student it was safer to hide your identity. You trusted them not to tell random people who you were, but the thought did cross your mind.

"excuse me, you met who? Who did you meet?" You might already knew the answer by the excitement on her face, but you still wanted a confirmation.

"I met Hawkeye" she whisper-yelled "you could say we're partners now"

"partners...with Clint?"

"yea I figured he's not the most social person in the world but we, wait" she suddenly stops, confusion on her face "how do you know his name?"

...

Shit

"you remember the whole ultron thing? all the avengers' informations got leaked, i read his name" You shrugged. Thank god for those drama classes and quick thinking. "how did you meet him?" you changed the subject, and she seemed to fall into your trap.

"do you remember that charity thing my mom hosted right? turns out there was a big illegal auction and, you know Ronin? yea his suit was there and the tracksuit mafia wanted to buy it but I stole it before they could, I didn't want it I didn't know it was there, I was there just because my mom forced me to go, you know I don't like the parties my mom throws-"

"Kate" you stopped her messy rant, repeating your question. "how did you meet Clint?"

She nodded, collecting her thoughts before speaking again. "Clint knows Ronin wants his suit back, but we first have to take down these people, and it's better if we do it before Christmas because he made a promise to his family to be celebrate it with them."

You sighed, that was typical of Clint, he wouldn't leave if he knew a civilian was in danger. You never heard of this tracksuit mafia, but if it wanted Ronin, it's not something to joke about.

"that's why you have those cuts on you face?"

"yea we got into -a kind of- a fight, after we...got kidnapped, well he did. I just followed him." she responded hesitantly.

"Kate!"

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, but I had to help him. And yes I should have told you but that's why I called you. I wanted to spend a little time with you while I grabbed something to eat." she raised the bag she was holding.

"let's go home, you need to take care of those wounds" you said, knowing she doesn't know how to do that.

"wait let's go to my aunt's place, I told Clint I would bring some food."

- - - -

"Clint? I'm back!" Kate called, closing the door after letting you in "oh right he can't hear" she continued once she didn't get a response.

Said man raised his head from the newspaper he was holding when he saw movement. Once your eyes locked, his seemed to widen. With you being behind Kate, you were able to shake your hand and put a finger on your lips, hoping he would catch the signal.

"Kate why did you bring a friend? You know this is dangerous, they need to go home." Thank god he caught it.

"no no listen, I mean-" she took a notebook from the table and started writing on it 'they're my partner, (Y/N), I trust them completely and they can handle themselves'

Clint stared at the words for a moment, before rolling his eyes while nodding.

"woah..okay thanks, I thought it would have taken more convincing..." The brunette muttered under her breath. Well...he's better at doing his job than being an actor.

While she went to put the groceries in the kitchen, you signed to Clint 'I'll explain later'

He didn't have time to reply when his phone started ringing. Kate re-entered the room to help him, but you were already by the man's side, signing what Nathaniel was saying.

"uh yeah it's...tonight is movie marathon night, that's right, um I really wish I could be there with you" You and Kate exchanged looks, you could see a glimpse of guilt and worry in her eyes before he continued.

"I think I'll be back in the next day or so in time for our ugly Christmas sweater party. I'll be there buddy"

There was silence on both ends after that, before Nathaniel spoke again, "I love you dad"

You started signing but Clint beat you to it and responded with 'I love you more'.

When the call ended he nodded as a thanks and went into another room. Kate turned to look at you "I didn't know you knew sign language"

You put your hands in your pockets, a light nervousness clear in your voice "well, yeah because I never told you, I was mute for almost five years when I was a kid. Selective mutism to be exact."

She forrowed her eyebrows "I didn't know that either- why didn't I know that?"

You sighed, shaking your head "it's just a small part of my past, one I would prefer not to remember, that's all" before she could respond, you interrupted. "let me mend those wounds."

- - - -

"you want to go to your mother's house? And you want me to come along?" after taking care of kate, you repaired Clint's hearing device, Tony taught you how to, since you and him often had missions together. And now the adult archer was able to listen to your conversation.

"yes, (Y/N). Clint knows what we're looking for and I know all the passwords, we need you to alert us if my mom comes back before the time, entertain her until we are done."

"I don't know Kate...your mom doesn't like me. With what excuse am I into her house? 'oh hi miss Bishop I was just waiting for your daughter and instead of knocking I decided to just break into your house, but oh! would you like a cup of tea? a long cup of tea?' you don't even live there" you tried to explain your point, hoping she would see it.

"they're right Kate, we can't bring them into our mess, it's already bad enough that you are. I can't protect both of you." she was about to rebut but eventually closed her mouth, nodding her head.

"I'll let you two to your mission then." you announced, rising from your spot on the couch. Kate raised too, accompanying you to the door.

Once you arrived, you took her hands in yours, raising you voice just a bit so that clint could hear what you were about to say but not enough to let the girl in front of you notice "call me if you need anything, okay? I'll be ready"

"God I hope I won't need any more help" she mutterd making the both of you chuckle.

"I'll se you soon. Don't be too reckless, follow Clint's orders, please" and to prevent one of her stubborn comebacks, you put your lips on hers, kissing her softly.

"bye kid." shouted the man from the other room after a few minutes, effectively scaring the two of you.

"uh yea, bye Mr. Clint! bye Kate" you got out of the apartment. "I'll text you later, promise" she made a kissy face before shutting the door.

- - - -

You don't know how much time has passed since you last saw your girlfriend, trusting Clint to take care of her you decided to catch up on sleep all day. But it was now nighttime and you were doing a report of your last mission to give Fury as soon as it was completed.

Truth be told, it was more of a distraction, you were worried for the two of them but at the same time you knew how distracting and dangerous a sudden phone call could be. So you just had to wait and hope for the best.

A few minutes later you finished your report, your phone started ringing, '<my archer3' on the screen. Needless to say, you instantly responded. "Kate? oh my God, are you okay? Clint-"

"(Y/N)-" a word was all that it took to make you stop. Her voice...cracked. Her voice never cracks, always so confident and steady. "can I, can I come over? Please" if you weren't so on alert you wouldn't have heard her last word.

"of course you can baby, where are you? You want me to pick you up?"

"no, there's no need, I'm almost there" you internally took note of her now slightly relaxed tone.

"okay, I'll wait for you"

- - - -

As soon as you opened the door she entered the house, throwing the bow on the couch. While she was pacing around, fidgeting with her hands you took in her appearance. Her clothes were dirty and she looked sweaty, but most of all exhausted.

You stepped in her personal space, taking her cheeks in your hands to make her look at you. "Kate, how about you take a shower, there are some clothes on the sink, and then you can tell me what's going on, how does that sound?"

Her gaze shifted between your eyes, before sniffing and softly nodding her head.

- - - -

Once she got out of the bathroom, wearing her pants and your sweater, she found you sitting on the couch and her now clean bow was on the armchair. Sensing her presence you raised your head from your phone, smiling.

"Hey, take a slice of pizza, I ordered it today, I can heat it up if you want"

The archer ignored the food on the coffee table, instead taking the phone from your hands, putting it in her pocket. She sat beside you on the couch, putting one of your arms around her shoulder, while she laid her head in the crook of you neck, sighing.

Combining your free hand through her damp hair, you remained quiet, waiting for her to talk.

"me and Clint fought, well kind of-" she took a deep breath before recollecting her thoughts. She told you everything that happened, from the fight on the roof to the meeting with the masked assassin in her apartment.

"wait, Natasha's sister? are you sure?" she took her head off her shoulder to look at you, nodding. Natasha rarely talked about Yelena and they were mostly just little comments, but still, a desire to kill her sister's best friend was not something you expected from the blonde.

"I tried to contact Clint multiple times to inform him but he never answered, I guess we really are not partners anymore" she began looking at her hands, but she raised her head again once she felt a kiss to her forehead.

"it's okay, we'll figure something out, he may look like a grumpy man tired of his job, but he wouldn't let a teenager in danger, knowing he could be of help."

You tried to reassure her, and it seemed like it worked, judging by the chuckle that escaped her mouth. "when you talk like that it seems like you personally know him."

"I'm...good at reading people, I guess" after a few seconds of silence you focused on her breathing, noticing how regular it was, lowering you head you confirmed your suspicions, she fell asleep.

Being as careful as possible you picked her up bridal style and brought her to you bedroom. When you laid her on the bed she unconsciously wrapped her arms around your neck, as to keep you there.

"I wasn't planning on leaving you here, anyway" you laid next to her, taking her back in your hold, now with her head on your chest. "goodnight, love" you softly kissed her hair and waited for an eventual sign. Receiving back none, you cautiously took you phone from her back pocket to contact the blonde avenger.

'I'm not takings sides'

'but you saw how helpful she can be'

'I can look after her while you do your thing'

You thought for a few seconds about your next words.

'just tell me if you need my help, please'

You sighed, putting your phone on the nightstand you closed your eyes, and thanks to Kate's light snores you were soon able to fall asleep.

- - - -

The next morning Kate decided to go to her mom's house to reassure her, and you were still in your house, since you didn't have any information on the situation there wasn't really much you could do, you found yourself waiting for your girlfriend's messages.

From Clint, nothing. But recently he read the texts you sent him, that'll do for now.

- - - -

It's been two days now and you were once again sitting on the couch watching a movie in complete silence. That was until someone knocked, no, literally broke into your apartment.

You jumped from your spot ready to attack the intruder but your favorite scent and two arms around your shoulders stopped you.

"I talked to him! I talked to him! We're good"

You grabbed her waist to tear yourself away from the jumping girl in front of you, bright smile on her lips.

"Kate, oh my- how-what- it's been two days, mind texting me sometimes?" she opened and closed her mouth before pouting.

"I texted you, they were just a random letter, but-but I did" she tried, ending the hug with her hands on you shoulders.

- - - -

"So, what's the next step?" the dark haired girl shook her head, putting her glass on the coffee table, picking up a slice of pizza instead.

"I can't tell you that, it's reserved." she responded with a professional exterior. You open your mouth in amusement and unbelief which made her throw her head back laughing. "I admit I shouldn't have told you anything at all, but you're my partner and I always want to tell you what happens in my life" she ended on a shy note, looking at the food.

You took a bite from her pizza before she could "come on, what could I do? call the bad guys and tell them your plan?"

"(Y/N) stop, I can't tell you, Clint told me not not to"

You furrowed your brows "he did?"

"...yea"

She surrendered with just a look.

"okay he didn't exactly say not to tell you, but it's better if you don't know. I want to keep you safe and- and stop eating my pizza" she put the palm of her hand on your forehead, pushing you away with a fake annoyed face.

Once she finished eating she rose from her seat. "I'll take a shower and we'll go to bed?"

"yes please, you really stink" you got a punch on the arm as a response.

"shut up, says the one who hugged me all night" she grabbed your cheeks, kissing you quickly, before exiting the room.

While you were putting away the pizza box you heard the ring coming from your phone. You took it from your pocket to read the message.

'eventually, are you free tomorrow night?'

You smirked.

'hello to you too, Barton'

'eventually yes, I am free tomorrow night'

- - - -

"Clint the tracksuit are here" Kate stated through her earpiece. She just got down the building thanks to the rope, trying to chase Yelena.

The avenger exposed himself to the window, looking around and muttered angrily "(Y/N) where the fuck are you?-"

"right here, what do I do?" you responded energetically, barely missing the arrow that was aimed at your face.

"woah! you should really recognize the voice, before randomly shooting, you know?" you took the arrow stuck on the wall, handing it to the man.

"you're late."

"technically you didn't give me a time so I can't be late, you just said tonight"

"(Y/N)." and his stern tone made you drop the jokes.

"right, okay. What do I do?" you repeated your question.

"I need you to help Kate, and if you take down the enemies on your way it would be appreciated." he didn't wait for an answer and marched out of the room.

You shook your head, making little jumps to accommodate the adrenaline in your body. You got down from the window, landing without a problem thanks to your powers.

You scanned the area, finding your girlfriend talking to Jack. Running towards her you landed a flying kick in the ribs to a man behind Kate, probably planning on hitting her with his metal bat.

You suddenly kneeled on the ground to avoid the bow, once again, aimed at your face. "I'm on your side, not need to attack me" you pointed a finger to her face. There was no need to change your voice, since the mask already did it for you.

"what are you doing here?"

You tried making up an excuse "uh well, Hawkeye called, said he needed my help."

She furrowed her brows, probably because he didn't tell her anything. "is that guy on our side? I saw you talking to him" you pointed in Jack's gerenal direction, even tho he was not there anymore.

"it's hard to explain, but yea he's with us" she got the words out after a short minute. You both got into action.

- - - -

After half an hour of fighting you find yourself on the ground, a man's hands on your neck, making it impossible for you to breathe.

You used you knee to hit him in the stomach, causing him to growl out in pain, giving you the opportunity to throw him on his back.

As you straddled him and gave him a punch to the side of his head, you heard Kate screaming, and instantly after, you felt a metal bat colliding with your head.

"oh my God!" the archer exclaimed running to you, after defeating your aggressor. The blow only brought you a sense of disorientation thanks to the mask's protection, but what you didn't know was that the voice changer mechanism was now broken.

"are you, are you okay?" she kneeled beside you, using one of her hands to support your shoulders.

"yeah, go back to the fight, I'll be fine in less than a minute." Kate's concern stopped for a second to let confusion settle in upon hearing your voice.

"your voice" even tho it was just a whisper, you were able to hear her, making you jump on your feet and far from the girl.

"see? All better now, let's go back" you said in an horrible fake voice, turning your back to distance yourself.

But Kate obviously didn't fall for your trick. So she called after you. "(Y/N)? Come back here, (Y/N)."

You slowly did as she said, suddenly hoping for a group of enemies to find you, but it seemed like they were on a coffee break.

The brunette took a few steps forward, until your bodies were only centimeters apart. Knowing it was useless to try and defend yourself, you let her put her hand on the base of your neck, to pull your mask off, revealing your face.

“You’re a superhero?”

"well, 'superhero' is a term used in comic books or movies, we don't really use that word in real life" seeing the roll of her eyes and her clenched jaw made you stop. You sighed. "yes."

"why didn't you tell me? You don't trust me enough?" you immediately shook your head, putting your hands in front of you. "of course not, love. It's not a matter of trust-"

"then what is it?" she looked away and sniffed, like she was about to cry. "and don't tell me it's because you wanted to protect me, or maybe it is? Maybe you think I'm so weak that I can't even protect myself?"

You closed your eyes tightly and pinched the bridge of your nose. She was just putting words in your mouth, making you snap.

“Here? You want to do this here?” you opened your arms wide as if to remind her of the situation you both were in.

She sniffed again, soflty nodding her head. "yeah, you're right, let's not talk about it anymore mh? Let's not talk about anything, anymore."

"come on, Kate you know that's not-" you tried grabbing her arm but she was already out of reach. You let out a loud puff, throwing your mask on the ground in frustration.

After a couple of minutes you hear steps behind you and you quickly grabbed your mask from the floor putting it back on, only to realize that the steps belonged to Clint.

"how is it going here, why is not Kate with you?" he was trying to avoid showing it but the worry on his voice was evident.

As much evident as your own trembling voice when you turned to look at him. "I don't know, she left. She found out and she just left. I couldn't get her to calm down and let me explain."

The man put a hand on your shoulder, trying to calm you down. "(Y/N) stop. You're an avenger. You must put the safety of the civilians before your personal business." it was a stern thing to say, but he knew you needed an emotional slap to get back on track. He continued after seeing you nod. "when did she separate?"

You shrugged your shoulders "three to four minutes ago. Three minutes and twenty-five seconds." Clint smiled lightly seeing your somewhat normal behavior.

"Go help her kid. I'm rooting for you." you raised your eyebrows with a smile, even though he couldn't see your face.

"you are rooting for me? I'm must be fucked then." he jokingly pushed your shoulder with a muttered 'shut up'

- - - -

As you left Clint on his own, not knowing that soon after he met Yelena, you went to look for your girlfriend and heard her screaming from the other side of the road.

She was standing on the ground, with a really big man in front of her. He was leaning to give her another punch but your voice stopped him. "hey. You want to fight someone so bad? Fight me you coward"

Your courage flew out the window when he turned around, showing you his face. Kingpin. Clint told you something about him but seeing him in front of you was even worse.

"oh? Look who we have here to join us." he started with a smile full of malice "Listen kid, I'm not interested in you-" he stopped again, felling something touching his back.

What touched him was actually one of Kate's arrows.

She suddenly looked at you, with both fear and determination strong in her gaze. With a quick look at the arrows lying around in the shop, you knew her plan.

As soon as Kingpin turned to face the girl you jumped on his back, with your arms around his neck and your hands covering his eyes, Kate sprung into action and put the arrows down following her scheme.

Kingpin though, had no problem in grabbing you by the jacked and throwing you across the room, your back hit the wall and then your face met the floor making you growl out in pain.

This continued for some time, with you taking his hits, and Kate arranging her arrows on the floor. Running to hide behind some boxes, she called after you. "watch out!"

With the last breath of air you had left, you gave him a punch under his jaw, effectively causing him to release your neck. You used the time he spent looking at all the arrows laying around to get out of the building, but close enough to be able to look after Kate.

Then, there was a big glowy blue light and the man was the center of it. After a few minutes of silence you thought it was over, Kate thought it too, but you suddenly saw him coming at you.

You gulped, preparing to use your powers but before you could, a car hit Kingpin against the wall of the shop. You relaxed your arms, seeing Kate's mother exiting the vehicle.

You stayed on the side while they talked but you could hear what they were saying.

"is that what heros do? Arrest their mother on chirstmas." Those were the last words Eleanor spoke before a police agent took her away.

You looked to your side, suddenly noticing that kingpin was not there anymore. You wanted to go look for him but you averted your gaze when the archer marched towards you.

"go back to your house and mend those cuts I know you rarely do...god I should have known" she closed her eyes in realization "and all the little information you let slip out about Clint, you even repaired his hearing device for fuck's sake" she threw her hands in the air, shaking her head.

"Kate, I'm sorry. I-" you stopped when she held one finger up. "stop, I don't wanna hear it, I don't want to hear anything from you, I can't even look at you anymore."

She turned her head but you noticed the tears that begged to be let out, and you felt even worse than you already did. You tried to grab her arm but she took a step back.

" don't. I've had enough of being betrayed." that's all she said, before going away a second time, probably to look for Clint.

You sighed taking your phone and opened the chat with the avenger.

'she's coming to you'

'take care of her cuts please'

'merry Christmas'

You shook your head, blinking away the tears, going back to your house.

- - - -

It was now 4 a.m. in the morning and you didn't sleep, too busy replaying the events of the night in your head. You should have told her sooner, you trust her with you whole heart and you know she can protect herself, the worry just seemed to always win.

Suddenly you hear three knocks on your door.

"it's becoming a habit" you murmured as you went to see who it was.

"hi" there she stood with a timid smile on her lips.

"hey, come in" you closed the door after letting her in.

You were not going to lie, the other side of you was kinda angry at the archer, you just wanted her to let you explain. You crossed your arms.

She took a deep breath "okay. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have reacted that way, it's just been a stressful week, you didn't tell me about you being mute and-"

"I said it's something I don't want to talk about."

"I know I know, and I completely understand, I'm just saying that so many things came together and-"

You sighed, you both said sorry and you both explained yourselves so there was no need to keep going. "I forgive you"

"Clint told me how important it is for some heros to keep their identity secret"

"Kate I said it's okay"

"and normally I wouldn't mind because I understand but-"

With her hands in yours you shut her up, with the help of a kiss "I said I forgive you". You pull away from her, chuckling. "God it is so hard to get you to listen."

“I still hate you, ya know?”

You playfully rolled your eyes. "and for what?" you knew from the look in her eyes it was not going to be anything serious, and you almost wanted to laugh at her attempt to keep her frown. "well you are an avenger, every time I talked about Clint or about a theory you always listened to me without saying anything."

You burst out laughing and it only got worse when your girlfriend slapped your chest, keeping her hand there as a barrier when you brought you lips centimeters away from hers.

"don't, don't kiss me you don't deserve it" she whispered with her eyes almost closed.

But once you put your mouth on hers she couldn't help but smile, humming. One of her hands cupped your cheek, the other on the back of your neck, while your hands held her waist. She detached when she needed to breathe. The pout now was completely gone as she looked in your eyes.

"am I forgiven now?"

"mh, almost" she teased, brushing her lips with yours, hinting at another kiss.

But you were planning something else. "I got a proposition for you then" she furrowed her brows in response, slightly upset you didn't give her what she wanted.

“Wanna help me make a new super suit?”

This was even better then a kiss, she put her hands on your shoulders, squeezing them, clearly excited. "wait, really? Can I really do it? Oh I have a lot of ideas if I can"

You looked between her eyes, smiling. "of course you do, you make sure to share every possible design you can think of"

"and now you can use them!" she said matter-of-factly. "but we better get to sleep now, we have places to be."

"where do we have to go?" instead of answering, she kissed you again, pulling you to your bed.

- - - -

"dad! dad you're here!" an excited Nathaniel screamed, running to jump into his father's arms, followed by Lila and Cooper. Laura was a few feet away, enjoying the scene with her arms crossed.

"merry Christmas buddy, all of you" he whispered, kissing every kid's head. Then he raised his own to look at his wife.

"I hope you don't mind, I brought three strays." "uhm, excuse me" you entered the house with a fake hurt, and loud, tone. "I am not a-"

"(Y/N)!" Nathaniel interrupted you, moving away from the avenger only to hug you. You picked him up, and he wrapped his legs and arms around you. "hey little boy, merry Christmas" he chuckled in response "merry Christmas (Y/N)" depositing a sloppy kiss on your cheek.

A bark distracted the happy scenario, making everyone but you and Clint turn to the door. "sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt, I guess pizza dog is hungry." she stood still with a shy smile. You playfully rolled your eyes, taking her hand with your free one.

"come in, you idiot, only you are missing"

- - - -

After that rather clumsy and shy enter, she met everyone, already seeming to get along with Lila. You played some family games, with joyful bickering between the different teams. Once it was time to prepare lunch, Laura instantly scolded you when you went into the kitchen to help, playfully shoving you away and demanding that you needed to rest.

So you were now in the living room while the baby of the house slept on your lap. You felt the couch dip and a little weight on your shoulder. "how are you feeling?" you asked, seeing her yawning and nuzzling her head deeper into your neck.

"mh, tired" she murmured.

Your lips turned into a smile, leaving a kiss to her temple "merry Christmas, my love"

Kate Bishop Masterlist - MCU Masterlist

General Masterlist

#mcu x reader #mcu #kate bishop x reader #kate bishop #hawkeye x reader #hawkeye #x reader #marvel x reader

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honorarysimp · 8 months ago

Text

9: Cold Soles, Lost Souls

series masterlist

Two months.

It’s been two months since that gathering, since you collectively set all responsibilities and beliefs to the side to fight alongside people you barely know.

Against something you can’t even touch.

Two more people have gone missing, it’s the two men who’d volunteered to scour the bottom of the lake to find Wes, it makes you sick.

The water is truly tainted.

That’s one thing that’s consistent, like clockwork, one disappearance per month.

Everyone is working day and night for a solution, but it seems there isn’t one.

You and Tara have gone through everything, everything. So have Dewey and Sam.

You begin to question everything, disgusted with the fact that you understand now why nothing has been done.

Let’s look at the facts:

This thing uses water as its source of power, the lake to be more specific. It feeds once a month, chances are you’re more likely to be taken if you’ve touched the water.

You can’t stop everyone’s heart every time this thing puts a target on someone’s back, and that’s if you manage to catch the signs early.

It comes and goes when it wants. For however long it wants. No reason for who it picks. It wants the whole town, for why? Tara says it’s probably some nature spirit ‘been-here-longer-than-you’ bullshit.

You laughed, Sam didn’t.

The documents Sidney had aren’t much, majorly town historical documents dating back to when it was founded. Mentions of the lake having underground channels beneath town, thanks to blueprints from the town’s original Public Works layout.

It’s like a spiderweb, probably not completely accurate since the blueprints are older than any of you, and there’s no telling if they’ve grown or gotten bigger over time.

With those facts into consideration, it leads to more questions.

Theres one thing you do know, you can’t fucking stand Stu.

Surprisingly, Billy leaves you well alone. He plays his role as a good husband to Sidney, he lingers a lot now that you’re more present. Well, you and the Carpenter sisters.

Stu actively likes pushing your buttons, whispering warnings to you, trying to antagonize you, as if he wants to see you pop off the handle.

You know he’s only desperate for something, you see how he can’t stand seeing Billy dote on Sidney as if the ground she walks on is blessed.

You also know it’s all bullshit. But, it’s nuclear warfare, and you know you could easily drop this information at any point. However, one brown haired, brown eyed, freckled first responder has you keeping your mouth shut.

For now at least you do, you don’t want to put her at risk. Sam too, you’re pretty sure you’re friends at this point. Regardless you’ve already put Tara through enough, and Sam seems to agree as she just… never speaks of it.

Tara is a raging ball of spitfire any time either men look at you, and to be honest, you kind of like how she gets when she’s angry.

Especially when it’s not directed at you.

It’s another late night, Tara and Sam had left a while ago to grab some food from the diner, for once you find yourself alone with the Mayor.

You’re yet again going through town records, bags under your eyes more prominent than ever, the coffee mug off to the side long cold.

There isn’t enough coffee in the world to give you the answers you need right now.

A fireplace crackles softly in the corner, providing a welcome source of warmth on the cold night, as well as a silence filler in between pauses of conversation.

The flickering light from the fire cast dancing shadows on the walls, mockery of an innocence that doesn’t exist.

“How’d you know?” You find yourself asking, rubbing your eyes tiredly.

Sidney looks up at you, she looks fairly exhausted herself, but she wears it well. You write it down as years of practice from blindsiding and polished by a talent for withholding information.

“Know what?”

“Jill said her aunt was the one who told them you had to stop your heart for that thing to let you go” you follow up, forearms dropping to the table as your eyes meet hers across the table.

Sidney hums, nodding absently, tiredly.

“I’d been marked. Like you, like Kirby. Like the others. I’d been having the nightmares, waking up with gashes, seeing things that weren’t there. We all were the superstitious bunch, we stayed away from the lake. Except… that doesn’t exactly keep you safe does it?”

You sit up straighter in your seat, your muscles aching from sitting still for too long. You’d asked Sidney this question before, she’d give you a ‘now isn’t the time’ response.

“There was another one of us, in our group, he found the method. He never said how, or why, but we were desperate. People were disappearing left and right, it was a bad time. We’d already so lost people close to us, friends and family. As you’ve learned, desperate times call for desperate measures.”

The Mayor's forehead was creased with a frown, her fingers rubbing at her temples in a vain attempt to ease the tension of a headache she was sporting.

You incline your head slightly, brow furrowed with a bit of curiosity, “what was his name?”

The ghost of a sad smile tugs at her lips, her eyes flicking up to meet yours again “Randy Meeks, I’m pretty sure you’ve had the pleasure of meeting his niece and nephew, friends of Tara’s.”

You sit up a bit straighter at the recollection. You hadn’t seen either of them since Wes’s disappearance, you know Tara has been in touch with and seen them. But you wouldn’t be surprised if not as much lately, all things considered.

“Randy, he… was the last one I was ever sure could find a solution. Before he up and left town right after saving my life, he didn’t even stick around for graduation” Sidney begins to explain, wringing her fingers atop the table as her gaze gets cloudy, staring off at nothing specific “no one has seen him since, and out of respect for my… oldest friend, I never bothered him. I owe him my life after all.”

“He just… left? That’s it? You never tried to find him? Bullshit.”

She glances off again, clenching her jaw, “I don’t blame him for running alright? We all should have, but this place? It sucks you in and you just- you don’t leave.”

You scoff, leaning back in your chair “super reassuring, thanks-“

“Don’t be a smartass” Sidney cuts you off, stern expression on her face, “I would never force Randy back here, he left for a reason and I will always respect that.”

A pause, and then “even if it means never knowing why he left? You’re okay living with that?”

The room fell silent, the only sounds being the faint crackling of the fire and the quiet breathing between the two of you.

Sidney is giving you a hard look, “you go find him then, ask him yourself.”

You laugh, dryly, because it’s not actually funny “what?”

“It’s what you do, it’s what you signed up for. Find missing people? Find Randy, find out how he learned about the method, maybe it’ll give us something-“

“Are you fucking kidding me? You do it” you shoot back, crossing your arms, “he’s your friend, he saved your life, don’t you think he’d wanna see you after all this time?”

Sidney looks away, and you can tell there’s more to it. There’s more to what happened back then, why she never went looking for him.

And then, a thought occurs to you. It hits you hard in the face, so hard you can’t believe you didn’t see it sooner.

“Is Randy the reason you’re allowing your husband to have an affair?”

For a moment she looks horrified, and you think you’d misread your conclusions, but then her expression falls and her shoulders slump.

“Billy… walked in on us together. Not that it’s any of your business, but Billy and I were dating at the time. I didn’t learn about him and Stu until about three years ago, I never said anything because, well… it made sense honestly.”

Your brow furrows as you lean forward, “and that makes it okay for him to sleep around with someone else? Sidney-“

“You don’t get to judge me” she cuts you off, expression cold and hard “I love him and support him, he’s all I have after-“

She stops when her voice cracks, steeling herself, “Randy left, Billy is here. Stu has been a good friend-“

“They buried me alive, Sidney” you blurt out, horrified by the revelation that had escaped you.

Only, she seems to take it metaphorically “I get it, I appreciate you keeping this to yourself but this secret doesn’t have to bury anyone.”

“No, that’s not what-“

“Just let it be, okay? That way everyone is happy” Sidney says, which has you looking at her in complete bafflement.

Her denial, delusion, runs so deep that it physically hurts you. Even if you sat here and tried to tell her anything, she won’t accept it.

“You’re not hearing me out-“

“The only thing that matters is ending this thing for good, Randy may be a key in solving this” Sidney says, more resolute as she completely steps around what you’d been talking about.

“Sidney-“

“That’s Mayor, Detective” she corrects you, completely shutting you down now, leaving you slumped in your chair and dumbfound.

She’s giving you nothing, and you’re practically hitting brick walls, so you just… drop it.

Sam and Tara will have a field day on this one.

“Fine, but if your psychopath for a husband comes near my friends I’ll kill him myself” you say lowly, pushing up to your feet, making the chair groan and protest as it scrapes against the wooden floor.

You aren’t capable of much physically, considering the fact you aren’t much of a fighter, however… the thought of someone bringing harm to Tara or Sam makes you feel a level of unhinged fury that scares even you.

Sidney jolts in surprise at your abrupt action, mouth opening to speak but she’s clearly taken aback, you don’t give her the chance as you walk out briskly.

Hands shaking, heart pounding, and mind racing. You exit the town hall, your breaths uneven as you fish your phone out of your pocket. You pull up Tara’s contact, then hesitate. She’s with Sam. And you’re not entirely in the mood for a grilling from her for word vomiting.

So you head for your car and shoot Tara a quick text, letting her know to meet you at your hotel room when they finish up.

By the time you get settled, boot up your laptop, and start digging, your phone chimes with a reply from Tara.

You pause and grab it, not even getting a chance to open it before there’s a knock on the door. A moment later, it opens, by the graces of the spare room key you’d given her weeks ago.

“Do I even want to ask?” Tara starts, a plastic bag dangling from her hand as she bumps the door shut with her foot behind her.

“I’ll explain on the way” is all you offer, eyeing the bag over your shoulder as you return your attention to your computer, typing in a few more commands “those leftovers for me?”

“Explain what?” Tara asks, walking over and dropping the bag on to the desk to your right, you feel her grab the back of your chair from behind you and lean to look over your shoulder.

Her eyes scan the screen as you write down the address you’d found, “Randy Meeks? Like, as in Chad and Mindy’s uncle? What-“

“Explain on the way, no time” you say as you stand, shoving the paper into your pocket as you scoop the bag of food and turn to her, “Sam?”

“With Danny, I convinced her that just because we might all die doesn’t mean she can’t work on her commitment issues” Tara says as she heads for the door, making you cast her a curious look as you reach around her to open it for you both.

“Danny? Who the hell has the balls to date your drill Sargent of a sister-“

“You’ve got questions, I’ve got questions. You show me yours, I show you mine how about that” Tara shrugs far too casually, somehow finding a bit of humor as she exits, making you laugh through under your breath as you follow.

“Perv.”

____________________________________________

Finding Randy was the easy part.

Getting him to open the door is the hard part.

When Tara bangs her fist against the apartment door once more, aggressive and irritated, you’re about ninety percent sure it’s on the cusp of being kicked in by her.

“He might not be home-“

“He is home. And I’ve got some fucking questions-“ another hard slam of her fist against the door, “-that need answering.”

You purse your lips, glancing down the hall both ways. No one had come out to complain, or yell, or anything. But then again with the area you’d found the complex in… you wouldn’t be surprised if everyone tends to mind their business around these parts.

“COME ON! WHAT WOULD CHAD AND MINDY THINK, HUH ASSHOLE?!” Tara shouts, and as much as you admire her dedication and persistence because yes - you’re in the same boat with your frustration at the lack of your progress thusfar - but your fairly sure threatening the man won’t do any good.

That, and bringing up his family he’s neglected all these years.

Tara looks to you, angry, as if it’s your fault. You quickly raise your hands and take a slight step away from her, expecting a punch to the arm as you’ve grown accustomed to.

“Maybe we should go-“

“Not happening” Tara says sternly, looking back to the door, “if anything I’m getting answers for my friends.”

She raises her fist, unrelenting, but it freezes mid air as the sound of a chain sliding followed by a bolt unlatching can be heard from within. You both take a step back as the door finally opens.

A man, goatee and tousled hair, peers at you both through the crack of the door. He looks wary, distrusting, and tense.

“You’ve got five seconds before I call the police for harassment-“

“How’d you know to stop a heart to get Ghostface to release a victim?” You say bluntly, exhausted with your patience and blunt with the reason you’re here.

Almost instantly he reacts, his eyes widen in fear at the question, and he tries to slam the door shut. But you’re quick, reflexes sharp. You manage to shove the door open before the man could close it, and for a moment you get a jolt of deja vú.

But your patience is clearly wearing thin, and this time you’re not alone in the face of confrontation. Your expression hard as you take a step inside the apartment, forcing Randy to move back.

"Answer the question, Randy" you demand, voice cold and uncompromising.

As Randy scrambled backwards, he makes a desperate attempt to pull out a gun hidden in his waistband. You panic, because you’re not a fighter, instinctively moving to stand in front of Tara as you reach for your own weapon. But to your disbelief, Tara is quicker than you both. She lunges forward before Randy can aim the gun, disarming him in a swift, practiced motion.

The move was almost too easy, a testament to quick reflexes and skill. You watch in complete awe as Tara held the gun in her hand, her eyes trained on Randy who now looks even more terrified, blubbering a quick “okay! Okay! Jesus Christ let’s just relax man-“

With a smooth, practiced movement, you watch Tara remove the magazine from the gun and releases the bullet from the chamber. With a flick of her wrist, she tosses the gun aside, her gaze never leaving Randy’s as it clatters across the wooden floor and out of sight.

You’re not really sure what to do with the way that makes you feel, but goddamn.

“Dude” is all you can say, which has her bravado falter, those brown eyes flicking over to you as she simply offers a shrug, a pink tint rising to her cheeks.

“My sister is a cop, you seriously think she didn’t force me to learn self defense?”

You don’t question it, turning back to Randy and plastering on a more professional and unyielding look.

Your voices cold as you repeat the question. "I'll ask again. How did you know that the entity releases its target victim when the heart stops?"

Randy raises his hands in surrender, his eyes wide and panicked. "I.. I honestly don’t know what you’re talking about," he stammers, his voice shaking.

You see right through his lies, and so does Tara who couldn't hold back a scoff. "Bullshit," she said, her tone dripping with skepticism.

Your calm facade cracks, giving way to a wave of anger and frustration. You clench your fists at your sides, eyes narrowing as you spoke.

"Do you have any idea how many innocent people have been lost in the void because you were too goddamn afraid to come home and help? I mean, you clearly know more about this thing than the rest of us” you snap, voice harsh.

Randy’s expression darkens, his own anger flaring to match yours. "You just don't get it!" he exclaimed, his voice growing louder. "I can't come back! It won't let me!"

He takes a step forward, his eyes glinting with a manic light. "You think I just chose to disappear? To stay away from my family? You have no idea what I've been through, the torment I've endured! The sacrifices I’ve made!”

“Enlighten us then, Randy” you say firmly, unwavering as you stare him down.

He shakes his head as he turns, storming further into the apartment. You follow, Tara one step behind you. You both watch him after a brief search beneath a loose floorboard in his living room, he pulls out a weathered old book. It looked ancient, the pages yellowed and the cover warped.

The atmosphere in the room shifts almost instantly, a sudden sense of unease rippling through the air. The energy in the room suddenly warps, the air becoming thick with an heavy, oppressive aura. The old book in the man's hands seemed to radiate an almost sinister energy.

"This..." he said, his voice quivering with disgust as he held the book out. "This fucking cursed book. It all started when I picked it up. That's when it smudged me."

Both you and Tara exchange a puzzled glance at Randy’s words. Tara is the first to speak up, her eyebrows furrowed.

"What do you mean, smudged?" she asks, her voice laced with confusion.

Randy grimaces, his grip on the book tightening, as if his personal vendetta against it makes him wish he could tear it to pieces. "Smudging," he repeats, his voice barely above a whisper. "It's a term I use to describe what happens when you touch this goddamn book. It attaches some kind of bad energy to you, or something, tainting your very essence. Ghostface can sense it.”

Randy’s eyes darken as he recounts his harrowing experience. "Any time I’d get within a five-mile radius of town, that thing would comes for me, man," he said, his voice quivering. "It's like it can sense where I am, like it's tracking me down. It's brutal. Rageful. Unstoppable. I can hear it, feel it, even when I'm asleep. You thought you knew what a nightmare was before? Think again. It's always there, in my subconscious, watching me."

Uneasy, you ask, "What exactly is this book? And how did you find it?"

Randy’s eyes flick to the book, his expression a mix of fear and resignation. "I don't know exactly what it is, but it speaks of the entity. It’s how I learned the method" he admitted, his voice a hoarse whisper. "I just... I found it. Out in the woods. Just laying there, waiting to be found."

Your instincts tell you Randy is holding something back, that there is more to the story than him conveniently stumbling across the book. You lean in, gaze intense, and press for an answer.

"You’re a shitty liar, you're not telling us everything," you said, voice firm. "Where did you really find the book?"

Randy shifts uneasily but stood his ground. "I can't tell you," he repeats, his tone defiant. "It's... safer for everyone if you don't know."

“Why don’t you just tell us what’s inside it then?” Tara prompts, “I mean, you have read it? Right? So just-“

“No” Randy firmly shakes his head, eyes hard and unwavering, “reading from it only makes it worse, I need you to understand the severity of this thing.”

Despite your initial skepticism, you relent for now. But as Randy continued, a warning in his voice, the tension in the room thickened.

"You need to understand," Randy says, his eyes boring into yours. "Once you touch this book, there's no going back. The more you read, the more of a threat you become. The more of a threat you become? The more determined it will be to kill you. The entity will be able to sense you, to track you. You'll be smudged, just like I am."

Randy then held the book out, offering it to you. "Look, you want it? Take it," he said, his voice trembling. "But you have to understand, man. Once you have this book, you're fucked. Ghostface will come for you like it did me. You'll never know peace again. You sure you want your hands on this thing?"

You hesitate, knowing the burden that will come with possessing the ominous tome that promises answers.

But at what cost?

Randy’s warning echoes in your ears, the implications clear. This book is more than just aged paper and ink. It’s a cursed artifact, a beacon for the entity that has been stalking and terrorizing this town like a predator for decades now.

But the need for answers burns deep within you. You need to know more about the entity, to better understand what exactly it is and perhaps find a way to defeat it.

Your hand hovers in the air above the book, almost touching the leather-bound cover. But just as you’re about to grasp it, Tara snags your arm, her grip tight.

"Wait," she said, her eyes wide with worry. "You can't just take it! Are you crazy? You don’t even know if it’ll be worth it! Don’t make what I did be for nothing.”

You look at her, sympathy in your gaze. You know her concern is genuine, but you also know you have no other choice. Randy is locked up like a fortress, you’re lucky enough he’s terrified of it this book to pass it off to you.

Hell, lucky probably isn’t the right word to use.

"What other options do we have?" You mutter, voice gentle yet firm. "People's lives are at risk here, and we've been making zero progress for the past few months. We can't keep running in circles. We need this book, no matter the cost."

“Not when the cost could be your life” Tara says firmly, the look in her eyes makes something in your chest ache. You know why she’s against this, it’s the same reason you’re doing this.

“And if it’s you next? Or Sam? Or Chad and Mindy?” You push, knowing it’s a low blow but you remind her there are other people at stake.

Tara’s expression softens, the fear in her eyes replaced by a flicker of resignation. She knows you’re right. You’re desperate, and there are no other options.

But then Tara looks to Randy, her expression a mix of frustration and empathy. "You've already been smudged," she said, her voice soft but firm. "The book has done its damage. You can't hide from it forever. And your family... they need you. Sidney needs you. You can't keep running away, leaving them in the dark like this. Help us.”

The moment he registers Sidney’s name, his entire demeanor changes in the blink of an eye. He looks at Tara, utterly defeated with deeply rooted conflict in his eyes, torn between the danger entailed and the promise of potentially being able to go home.

In this moment, you find a bit of clarity. Randy left because he cares too much, took a risk and sacrificed his entire life for the woman he loved and his family. But he is also a man with scars, a damaged man with cold feet, a man with years of wear and tear on his lost soul. Cracks in foundation that can’t be filled, and it shows as he slowly resolves his moment of vulnerability, those walls building back up faster than they came down.

Randy bristles at her words, his expression darkening. "You can take the book or you can get the hell out of here," he said, his voice cold. "But I'm not going anywhere. I'm staying here, where it's safe."

The situation had suddenly grown hostile, the tension thick in the air. You lay a restraining hand on Tara’s that still grips your arm, your eyes conveying a silent message. This wasn’t worth a fight, not when the book possibly offers some sort of answers.

Clearly still against it, and frustrated with the lack of cooperation from Randy, Tara pull her hand from you and turns away with a shake of her head. Jaw clenched and face stricken with rebuke.

The room is filled with a palpable suffocating pressure, the decision weighing heavily on you all. The risk of taking the book, of drawing the entity's attention, is real. But at the thought of Tara, her safety, you rationalize that’s more important than anything. You remind yourself that you only came back to solve this to ensure she would be okay. You’d already concluded a while ago that you would do anything, risk anything, to ensure she is safe.

With a mix of grim determination and trepidation, you slowly reach out and grasp the book. The moment your fingers touch the worn leather, you feel a sudden wave of unease wash over you. The room seems to press in around you, and the air grew thick with a pervasive sense of dread.

Randy wasn’t kidding, this is fucking heavy.

The book seemed to thrum with an unknowable energy, and you feel its malevolent presence, like a dark shadow lurking at the edge of your perception.

A single thought is brought to the forefront of your mind, loud and harsh as it bounces around in your head like an echo through a dark chasm.

This action will have consequences.

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#tara carpenter #tara carpenter x reader #tara carpenter x y/n #tara carpenter x you

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livingdreams97 · 1 year ago

Text

Eloise Bridgerton - "The Prince" (Part 1)

Eloise Bridgerton x Male reader/oc

Summary: Two people who have never seen each other before, with the same need and desire to be free in different ways. What could come of that when both people meet each other?

Words: 3.983

Masterlist

POV Narrator

In a castle located three hours from the center of London, two men are in a meeting and in a somewhat heated discussion. One of the men is in his late 40s, while the other much younger looking man is in his 23s.

XY: You will go to the palace with your aunt and you will participate in this year's social season.- declares the older of both.

XY2: You can't do this to me father.- denies the youngest . -You can't force me to look for a wife.- the son denies.

XY: I'm not forcing you to look for a wife, just to participate in the social season and look for someone to love.- he claims to his son. -You are twenty-three years old and at your age, I was already married to your mother and already had your brother.- he reproached him, causing the young man to cross his arms.

Y/n: But I don't want to get married, I want to travel and see the world.- he comments getting up from the chair. -I want to get to know different cultures, learn languages and see places that most people can only dream of.- he says walking through the office.

XY: And you will.- he assures her calmly. -But once you find someone, you fall in love and get married.- he dictates, continuing with his writing.

Y/n: And who assures me of that, father.- he says passing his hand through his almond-blonde hair. -We both know that as soon as I get married, I'll have to take care of my wife and start producing heirs. When will I travel ? - he asks the older man.

XY: I assure you that you will travel.- he says looking back at his only living heir. -What do you think if we make a deal?- he offers leaving the pen in its container

Y/n: What deal?- he asks interested, sitting back in the dark blue suede chair in front of his father's desk.

XY: If you manage to fall in love and get married this season, you will be able to travel around the world for 6 months and I myself will pay for your travel expenses. In addition to that, I promise to give you a house, wherever you want as a wedding gift to you and your wife; without the need for you to generate heirs immediately.- the father offers and this captures the attention and interest of the child.

Y/n: But ... - He begins by meeting his father.

XY: You will have to be really in love, you will show me your love for her and your aunt has to give you the go-ahead.- he finishes speaking. -What do you say, do w have a deal? - he questions his son.

Y/n: Okay.- the youngest nods with a sigh, allowing the light curls on his head to bounce subtly and his father to notice it.

XY: So tomorrow morning you will go to the palace, where you will stay with your uncles and before leaving you will receive a haircut.- He points out his son's slightly long hair.

Y/n: Yes father.- accept tired. - Can I retire to my room now? - he asks and the father nods.

XY: Make sure you have all the clothes ready first thing in the morning.- he reminds him as the young man leaves the office.

And that's what happens the next day. After a haircut and loading the suitcases into the family's navy blue carriage. Father and son say goodbye with a hug, before the youngest gets on the carriage and it sets off towards the palace.

Dear readers,

Have you missed me? Because here I am once again, ready to talk and comment on the events of this new season.

While our respected high society was enjoying their country retreat once more, this author did only one thing: polish my art. Or should I say hatching my plans? No, even better. I was sharpening my knives even more and collecting information.

Apparently, a few hours after the debuts of this season, two luxurious-looking carriages have arrived at the palace and they were loaded with abundant luggage.

Could it be that the queen will host a debutant or debutante of the royal family this season, as she did with her nephew Prince Friedrich of Prussia?

On the other hand, Queen Charlotte has once again done something unexpected and has renamed Edwina Sharma as the diamond this season. It will be that she is not happy with the failure of last season with her diamond, that she is trying to remedy the situation and regain her credibility when choosing the diamond of the season.

We also have the Bridgertons to congratulate, as the Viscount and Viscountess have just welcomed their first heir with open arms. And they will not only celebrate the birth of the little girl, but also the debut of two Bridgertons more. Will the matriarch of the family be capable of directing and helping three children at the same time in search of a partner?

It only remains to wait and see everything that this season has in store for us. What mysteries and secrets our high society hides that they do not want to be known.

Always yours,

Lady Whistledown.

POV YOU

I listen to what my aunt reads aloud as we eat dinner, watching disgust and anger fill every feature of her face. I look at my cousin Friedrich , who continues having dinner and not giving importance to what is being read .

Charlotte: How dare that woman question my ability to select, I am the one who created the idea of the diamond and I have not failed even once, until last season. - she grumbles, leaving the newspaper with force on the table.

Y/n: Aunt, don't give importance to that gossip newspaper, they are not important and you are one of the most capable and intelligent women I know.- I assure her with a slight smile.

Charlotte: You will see my dear nephew Y/n, I appreciate your sincere and encouraging words.- she tells me with a small smile. -But if the people believe what this woman writes, my past successes don't matter, much less if it only reflects my only failure.- she explains and I frown at her annoyance.

Friederich: You are the queen, ignore it and the rest of the town will too.- he comments without much interest.

Charlotte: What I will do is use your presence, to relax the atmosphere and make sure that everything goes well.- she comments with confidence.

Friederich: And what do you plan to do with our presence?- questions with confusion, although I already understand it and I'm not entirely sure if I'm going to like the idea.

Charlotte: You are both here with the intention of finding a woman, therefore I can ensure that one of both of you ends up with my diamond and thus recover the full respect of the town.- she answers and I bite my lip.

Y/n: Aunt, you know that I respect you and that I never disagree with you.- I start a little unsure. -But I'm sure you know my father's opinion regarding marriage and that you only have to marry for love.- I remind her and see how she tries not to smile.

Charlotte: I know my dear Y/n.- she assures me with a certain tenderness in her eyes when she looks at me. -That is why I have decided that Friederich is the one who is interested in my diamond, maybe even something real will come out of this.- she says and I nod in gratitude.

It's not that I really want to marry for love, a few years ago I would be happy to find someone to fall in love with and marry.

But seven years ago my opinion changed and I have not wanted to fall in love and get married since then. When I was 13 years old, my brother had an accident riding a horse in a race and died. My mother went into anger and depression over the loss of her first child.

Two months after the loss of my brother, my mother could not continue and died of sadness. So only my father and I stayed.

I saw my father mourn the loss of my brother, trying to cheer up my mother in her depression and soon after also mourning the loss of my mother. I saw him suffer every day since my brother's death and for another year after my mother's death.

I saw how sad and broken he was when he lost the love of his life. The house was no longer the same, without my brother's laughter or absurd comments, everything felt silent. In addition to the fact that the warmth and happiness that my mother radiated had been replaced by the coldness of her lack.

That's why I stopped wanting to find someone to fall in love with and marry. Because I had seen what the loss of my mother did to my father and how it felt to lose two of the most important people in my life.

So at fourteen I decide to renege on marriage, preferring to remain single and not get close to another person in a sentimental way. But now there's my father's offer, and it's an offer I can't refuse.

I have always wanted to travel and see the world. But my father has never left me, saying that it was irresponsible to go on a trip and leave my chores behind. Although now that my father offers me 6 months of travel around the world, expenses paid and a house to be independent; I can't refuse the offer.

Especially when as soon as he could, my father sent me to university in Manchester and having finished my degree in natural sciences and its use in medicine, along with some medical courses; he wanted to enjoy traveling to find and study new plants as well.

But just because I accepted the offer doesn't mean I'm going to marry for love. But I will try to find a woman, who really does not want to get married; but do not want to stay single and be separated by society.

Friederich: If you think it's the best option, I agree to help her and meet the diamond of the season.- he accepts, causing her to let out a sigh.

Charlotte: Well, I hope you dress as well as possible, because in a few hours the guests will arrive and it's the first initiation dance.- she warns us seriously. -In this first dance I am the hostess and it will be your presentation.- she says and we both nod in agreement.

Friederich: I'll put on my best suit.- he nods puffing out his chest.

Charlotte: One last thing, Y/n Lady Danbury will take care of your introduction into society and will help you in the dances.- she tells me and I nod. -She has more experience and can better help you find a woman.- she explains with a loving smile.

Y/n: Thank you for thinking about my needs aunt.- I thank you with a smile.

Charlotte: I always will Y/n, besides that Lady Danbury is hosting another season at the Sharma and so it will be easier for Friederich and Edwina to get to know each other.- she explains to both of us.

Shortly after, we finish dinner and everyone heads to their rooms. I decide to wear black pants, with a morning suit of the same color with gold buttons and shiny black shoes.

I decide to wear a white shirt, with a navy morning suit and a white Byron tie. I look at myself in the mirror in my bedroom, making sure everything is in place and my hair is neat. ( He has the same hair as Theo , but with a little more curl.)

I grab the white gloves and leave the room after taking a deep breath. I descend the stairs, putting on my gloves and listening to the music from the ballroom in the background.

XY: Sir, Your Majesty requires your presence.- He warns me and I nod with a smile.

I follow the servant, entering the ballroom and immediately feeling the curious eyes of those present on me . I keep my gaze fixed, never taking it away from my aunt and the woman with the cane at her side.

Charlotte: Dear, how good that you have arrived.- she greets me with a smile. -You remember Lady Danbury right? - she asks pointing her head at the woman next to her.

Y/n: Of course I remember her aunt.- I nod with a smile. -It's a pleasure to see you again Lady Danbury.- I greeted taking her hand and leaving a polite kiss on the back of the hand. - You are as beautiful as six years ago.- I compliment her with education .

Lady Danbury was very close to my mother, so from time to time she always traveled to our house and paid us little visits. But after my mother died, her visits became shorter and less frequent.

Until after an argument with my father, because of how he was mourning and his way of focusing on work without showing me affection or support, it happened.

After that discussion, my father asked him to stop coming and that if he wanted to keep in touch with me he could only do so by letters; and so it has been for the past six years.

Danbury: As flattering as always prince Y/n.- smiles making me a bow. -It will be a pleasure to be your supervisor this season.- she assures me with a smile.

Y/n: The pleasure will be mine Lady Danbury.- I assure her politely. -It is said that her role in the Duke's marriage was crucial.- I comment and she smiles holding on to my arm.

Danbury: It was and now I'll get you a wife.- she tells me with certainty. -If you'll excuse us, Your Majesty, I have to expose this boy and introduce him to several possible debutantes.- she says goodbye to the queen and pulls my arm.

We start to walk around the room, while she talks to me about each newcomer we pass by and giving me her opinion about them.

From one moment to the next, she lets out a small exclamation of emotion and pulls our joined arms with a little more force.

Eloise's POV

I can't believe my mom dragged me into this for another year and even less after what happened last season. I very much doubt that any man wants to marry the woman who goes to the market alone and joins companies with radical political ideas.

After what Lady Whistledown wrote about me, or rather; what Penelope wrote, everyone looks at me badly and the scandal did not bring my family much good fortune.

But as much as I have refused, my mother has forced me to participate again for another year and this time telling me that I have to really try. She will even force me to have two complete dances, complete dances with someone other than my brothers or she will take away my books and all my liberties.

I haven't even managed to convince her, saying that she can't supervise Francesca, Colin and me at the same time; and that I would take work away from her by not showing up this season.

But nothing, she has not accepted and has put aside every reasoning I have given her for not making my debut.

And that brings us to this moment. To the first ball in the palace, where as soon as we have entered the door the eyes of almost all the guests are on us and the looks on me are not entirely positive.

Violet: Look there is Lady Danbury.- my mother comments with emotion, but I only look around and I meet the gaze of my old best friend.

I keep looking at her with all the resentment in the world, remembering all the damage she has done to my family and especially to me. I still can't believe that she is Lady Whistledown and was able to write that way about me: her best friend since childhood.

I pay attention to my mother again, when I feel how she pinches my arm and I complain, caressing the area.

Violet: And this is my other daughter Eloise Bridgerton .- introduces me and I look away from my now enemy, finding Lady Danbury with a boy by her side.

XY: A pleasure to meet you all, Lady Danbury often talks about you Lady Bridgerton and always in very high esteem.- He greets her by kissing the back of her hand, as with my sister and approaching to do the same with me.

Violet: I hope so.- she jokes with him.

I just watch as the unknown man gently takes my hand and brings it to his lips while staring into my eyes. After kissing my hand, he gives me a smile and politely lets go of my hand.

Danbury: From what I see, dear friend, this season we will both be very busy.- she comments to my mother and I looked at her with confusion . -You supervising your three children debuting and I supervising Edwina Sharma and Prince Y/n of Hannover here present.- she comments amused and I open my eyes, impressed in the most hidden way possible.

Violet: Oh, so you're going to debut too? - asks my impressed mother to the prince.

Y/n: That's the idea, my father thought that it's the right time to start looking for that special person so I can get married.- he answers with a perfect smile; iugh what a rage of a man.

Violet: It seems to me that your father is quite right, finding a special person to fall in love with and thus be able to get married takes time.- she comments and I can see a certain citric expression on his face, but it's barely perceptible and covers it very fine with a smile

Y/n: It's the same thing he says.- He nods agreeing.

Danbury: Why don't you invite Miss Eloise to a dance, dear.- she suggests and I want to deny it immediately, but I see the look my mother gives me.

Violet: I think it's a great idea.- she supports her friend with a huge smile.

Y/n: I suppose that if Miss Eloise accepts I won't have any problem dancing with her.- he assures looking at me with a small smile and extending his hand.

Violet: She doesn't have any problem, right daughter?- she asks me with a smile between her teeth.

Eloise: No, I would love to dance with you, my lord.- I assure him, bowing slightly and accepting his hand.

Y/n: Perfect, so if you'll excuse us, there's a dance floor and a dance waiting for us.- he tells those present with a kind smile and guides me towards the dance floor.

We were immediately on the dance floor, with one of his hands on my waist and the other connected to mine. While my free hand rests on his shoulder and a new song begins.

Eloise: I have to apologize in advance for stomping on you during the dance.- I repeat what my mother has dictated to me so many times before each dance.

Y/n: It's okay, not everything in this life tries to dance perfectly and in sync.- He downplays it by starting to move. -And tell me, is it your first season?- he asks while we dance and I count the steps.

Eloise: Don't talk or I'll get involved with the steps.- I order, looking down at my feet.

Y/n: It's easier to look at your dance partner than at your feet.- he assures me with a certain amused tone. -If you only look at your feet, you'll end up skipping a step and you won't be able to continue counting the steps.- he explains with evident experience.

Eloise: Perhaps the Prince of Hannover had problems with dancing.- I scoffed with a bit of venom.

Y/n: Well yes and I'm not ashamed of it.- he admits standing up. -The dances and some other points of the social events seem too banal and unnecessary for a day to day .- he explained and I looked at his eyes completely surprised.

Eloise: What? - I ask completely surprised, I would never imagine that someone from royalty, much less the queen's nephew, would think something like that about social events.

Y/n: The fact that i'm part of the royal family does not mean that i do not have my own ideas and that I agree with everything that is done in these events.- he comments without much interest. -Besides, the dances are supposed to meet and connect, which is absurd since there is nothing better than a conversation to get to know someone.- He defends his point of view and I couldn't agree more .

Eloise: Then why are you participating as a debutante and dancing with me right now? - I ask with a frown.

Y/n: I guess for the same reason as you.- he answer directly.

Eloise: And what do you know about my debut.- I say defensively.

Y/n: People like to talk, Miss Bridgerton, besides that your disgusted face and little interest in dancing are clear signs that you 're not making your debut for fun.- he explains and I purse my lips a bit annoyed for how fast he has read me; and for what he will have heard from me.

Eloise: What have you heard about me?- I ask him in a somewhat aggressive way.

Y/n: The dance is over.- he says separating from me . -It looks like we'll have to continue this conversation at another time, Miss Bridgerton .- he comments, leaving another kiss on the back of my hand and guiding me back to my mother. -I return your daughter Lady Bridgerton in one piece.- he tells my mother politely.

Violet: I thank you my lord.- she thanks him and the prince makes a small bow and walks away from us. -How was the dance with the prince? - she asks me excited.

Eloise: Incredible mother, dancing with the prince has been such a compliment, it has been a dream come true and now I can die in peace. - I exaggerate ironically and she looks at me challengingly.

Benedict: He seems like a nice guy.- he comments with our mother. -Besides, he's endured a whole dance with our sister and it doesn't look like he's complained about her stomping.- he comments amused, causing Colin to laugh and for me to hit him on the arm.

Eloise: I haven't stepped on it.- I deny immediately in my defense.

Colin: Yes, you have.- he assures me with confusion and amusement . -You've stepped on him like five times at least.- he points out and I open my eyes surprised at not having noticed.

Benedict: We were betting on how many more stomps the poor man would put up with.- he comments laughing with our brother.

Violet: Stop talking nonsense and laughing at your sister.- she tells them seriously. -Now Benedict, help your sister socialize and you Colin; you come with me.- she orders us.

Eloise: And Francesca? - I ask confused not seeing my little sister.

Violet: Your brother Anthony has offered to help her this season with me. - she tells me and I nod in understanding. -Now move all of you.- she says and after grabbing our brother's arm she disappears.

Benedict: Let's go around and discuss some of the ridiculous dresses and accessories of your competitors.- he mocks, offering me his arm and I delightedly grab it with mine.

Benedict is my favorite brother, because he always follows my jokes and he is the person with whom I feel most comfortable to talk about anything. I have always felt a greater connection with him than with any of my other siblings.

As we walk around the room, talking about some of the tacky dresses and hideous costumes of the other debutantes at the ball. I can't help replaying my conversation with the prince during the dance in my head, trying to figure out what he meant by his words and what he knows about me

#eloise bridgerton #bridgerton #eloise bridgerton x reader #bridgerton netflix #eloise bridgerton x male reader #anthony bridgerton #lady whistledown #queen charlotte #benedict bridgerton #violet bridgerton #edwina sharma #kate sharma #oc character #male reader

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itsfairly · 1 year ago

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I loved your latina reader fanfic's so much (especially since I rarely see any and I thank you soooo much)!! So I was wondering if you can write another Nanami fanfic with a latina reader in which she shows him to her family (when they are both attending Jujutsu high as teenagers?). Her mother is a bit skeptical, like all latina mothers are but loves Nanami!

Meeting Over Dinner // Teen!Nanami Kento x Latina! Fem!reader

word count: 3.3k

cw: teen!nanami, fem!reader, teen!reader, established relationship, fluff, untranslated Spanish (like four lines or less), not proofread, use of reader as a name.

summary: Nanami and you have been dating for a while, which means that eventually, you have to bring him to your parents. Yet, everyone knows how parents can be quite picky about their children's partner when meeting them for the first time.

a/n: this took me a while to write, but i am so excited since this is my first ask! thank you @erigaur for dropping a message and for enjoying these latine!reader fics, i enjoy writing them as well! this is also my first time writing for teen!Nanami, so a couple of first happening today with this one. Hope you all enjoy this one!

liked this? show it with a like, reblog, and/or comment. each is greatly appreciated and celebrated!

There comes a time that every person in a relationship fears—meeting your partner’s parents and having your partner meet your parents. Unfortunately, you and Nanami had reached that point and you couldn’t avoid it any longer from your side.

It took a while before the two of you even became a couple due to how different your cultures were. Whereas his culture was pretty restrained and his reserved nature did not make his feelings easy to see, your culture was indulgent and it made you seem like a social butterfly, trying to strike up a conversation whenever you could rather than someone who had a huge crush on him. Neither of you noticed that glint in each other’s eyes that appeared every time you talked. Lucky for the two of you, Haibara did and decided to play matchmaker.

He saw the way Nanami would try to talk to you when all students hung out despite always keeping to himself in such outings and the way you would always offer your food to him first without fail. Most importantly, he saw the way you two always denied your feelings for the other with that same glint. It took a few sneaky moves and the help of his seniors, which was basically stopping Gojo from teasing the two of you when alone, but eventually, you and Nanami started dating.

But dating was a special topic in your family. One that you were constantly reminded of every time you had a family reunion.

After countless times of hearing your aunts asking you “¿y el novio?”, you were finally able to say you started seeing someone. Least to say, your family became curious the minute you revealed this information and not only started to ask you about him but also teased you. You would talk about your day and they would see how you smiled when you mentioned Nanami. They would tease you with squeals and knowing glances at how smitten you looked. You would tell them you were going out and suddenly you had a billion questions regarding your plans with your boyfriend. After a couple of months, they knew you were getting pretty serious about this boy, turning the teasing into nagging about when they would meet him.

Not wanting to prolong the inevitable, you invited Nanami to have dinner at your house, which brings us to this moment with you and Nanami walking to your house. You were quite surprised at how collected he seemed to be about this, which assured you that things would go smoothly since he has always been able to hold his own. However, on the inside, Nanami was freaking out. He wanted to make a good impression on your parents, especially your father. He really really liked you and knew he had to show your father that he was worthy of dating you.

“Listen, if at any point you feel uncomfortable, just tell me. I’ll keep you up with whatever they say in Spanish but don’t think too much if they speak it. They are just more comfortable speaking it.” You told him, a small crease on your forehead as you prepared him for his whole dinner.

Nanami sighs, looking at the door before him. Though he was nervous, it was more obvious how you kept repeating the same warnings that did nothing but grow those nerves of yours the more you went around in circles with your thoughts. He places a hand on your shoulder, giving you a small squeeze.

“I’ll do my best to show the best me, okay? You don’t need to worry about me embarrassing you.”

He was really sweet in trying to assure you. But to you, Nanami was not the one you were worried about. But you didn’t want to give him any more reasons to worry him now that the two of you were at the steps of your front door. Instead, you flash him a small smile, finding some comfort in his words from how he is trying to calm you down. It was sweet. “I know you won’t. Just don’t let their words get to you.”

You open the front door, making your way into your home and holding the door open for Nanami. Taking a deep breath and putting a smile on your face, you announce to your family that you’re home.

The two of you leave your stuff by the front door, making your way to the kitchen where both your mom and dad are busy preparing dinner. When they hear your voice, both of them turn to look at you with a smile on their faces, putting the utensils away and cleaning their hands before making their way to greet you with a hug and a kiss on the cheek.

Nanami watches your parents greeting you home with such warmth that it suddenly makes sense why you are so sweet and lively even during the worst days. Because you came home to such a caring atmosphere. It made him feel nervous, on the other hand, because he was not used to such greetings that seemed too touchy for his liking. He knows that it is one of the cultural differences you have faced in your relationship, but he hopes that your parents can understand that as well as you have.

Your father is the first to greet Nanami, instantly making him feel insecure under his gaze. But the feel of the moment changes quickly when your father smiles gently at Nanami and extends his arm.

“Ah, you must be Nanami, right? We’ve heard a lot about you, it’s really nice that we finally get to meet you.” Your dad beams, his friendliness making Nanami’s earlier expectations of your father completely wrong.

He thought your father would be looking at him with a harsh glare, one that would make him tense on the spot and feel inferior to him. But here he was, relaxing his shoulders as he reached out to your dad’s hand and bowing before him as he greeted him. Maybe your dad wouldn’t be as frightening as he once thought. Not when Nanami could hear the playful chuckle from your dad when he bowed, but he shook it off since he wanted to be respectful.

“I apologize for taking so long to meet you, sir. I should’ve introduced myself the moment I was interested in your daughter.” Nanami says as he straightens up, trying his best to ensure a good impression on your dad.

But once again, your dad laughs, throwing his head back, and lets go of Nanami’s hand. “Sir? No, no. No need to go so far, I do not deserve that much respect, young man.” Your dad said, shaking his hands in front of Nanami to assure him further.

No, your dad was not who Nanami should be worried about like he initially believed. It was the woman before the two of you looking up and down his figure with a polite smile but eyes that were sizing him up the moment he came in. Your mom.

The moment you saw how your mom was looking at Nanami, you could feel your heartbeat accelerate as you tried to make out her reaction to Nanami. You knew the way her eyebrow raised every time you talked about him, impatiently waiting for you to invite him. Your mom was not thrilled to learn you were dating someone who was not Latino, mainly because she wanted to be able to speak to your partner in the language she was most comfortable speaking. Your mom didn’t know much about Nanami other than he was a sorcerer in the same class as you. She was already skeptical of him and how good he would fit into the family.

It is not ideal at all from how her eyes go to his hair first and you mentally curse. Before she could say anything, you decide to beat her to it and speak first.

“Ama, this is Nanami. Nanami, this is my mom.” You say in a cheery tone, hoping that the way your eyes kept darting between each other didn’t give away how nervous you were as you try to make out their reactions to the other.

Nanami extends out his hand to your mom, wanting to greet her with respect. But your mom was surprised when she was already standing there with her arms open, expecting a hug. She looks down at Nanami’s hand, putting down her arms and shaking his hand with a less-than-pleased expression despite her smile.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, miss. Your daughter talks a lot about you, thank you for inviting me to your home.” He says, his tone sounding too serious for your mom’s liking.

The bow he does after it does not really help his case either, it makes your mom flash you a look that you interpret as a he does this every time? To which you responded with a tilt of your head and a be respectful, different cultures, remember? look.

She lets go of his hand, still sizing Nanami up and not looking too pleased about it. In her eyes, he was too formal. You knew it was going to happen considering how warm your mom usually is, but you thought she was going to think of it as a sign of respect. After flashing him a smile and clasping her hands together, she tells Nanami.

“Oh don’t mention it, we were excited to meet the boy that had this one so happy.” Her tone, though still warm, wasn’t the one you were used to. It sounded as if she was distracted trying to learn everything about Nanami from his appearance and greeting alone.

Your mom turns to look at you with that raised brow you know too well and asks you, “¿y este es emo o por qué el pelo le tapa la cara?"

“Do you need help setting up the table? I’m sure food’s almost ready since we took a while to get here” You say quickly as you clap your hands together, ignoring your mom’s comment by changing the topic into something that wouldn't involve her being judgemental towards your boyfriend.

Your mom’s eyebrows jump slightly at the conversation change and it does not go unnoticed by you at the way her demeanor is borderline critical of Nanami, practically disapproving of him without really knowing him. You know she was just getting used to seeing you date someone, but you wanted her to be a bit more considerate and kind to him.

Nanami, while oblivious to what your mother said in Spanish, catches the way you so suddenly offered to help with the table. He nods and looks back at your mom, offering his help as well. “Is there any way we can help? After all, it’s only right since you went through the trouble of cooking, miss.”

Your mom looks back at Nanami, looking satisfied-ish at his words despite his formality. She nods, telling them that dinner will be ready as soon as the table is.

As you and Nanami start setting up the table with the glasses and the utensils, you look at him with worried eyes. Your mom is cautious about him, yeah, she was also pretty stuck on the fact you were not dating anyone from your culture. You know she had no ill will. It's just that every person who would meet your parents for the first time would enter an interrogation with your mom. Since Nanami was not just any person and someone you were dating, you were worried she would be harsher on him, especially as someone outside your culture.

“Hey, so,” You started, putting down the forks and knives on each seat of the table, “my mom can be a lot in these meetings. Ask a lot, say a lot, go over the line and all. What I am saying is that you don’t have to answer her questions if they make you uncomfortable.”

Nanami looked at you from the other side of the table. Tonight was different from what he expected. He didn’t know it would be your mom who he had to look out for, nor that you were this worried for him. While it did make him feel more anxious, he walked towards you after setting down the last glass, shaking his head at your words.

“Your mom only wants the best for you.” He says nonchalantly, trying to hide said nerves even though that sigh that escapes his lips snitch on him. “I’m more than okay answering her questions if it means ensuring your parents know that I care about you.”

“I don’t want you to feel pressured to answer though.” You look at him, placing your hands on the chair and gripping it to calm yourself. you couldn't understand how he could look so collected despite the nerves he felt.

“They are not pressuring me. I’m telling you I want to answer those questions. I was the one who said yes to coming, remember?” Nanami says softly, taking one of your hands and entwining his fingers with yours, giving your hand a small squeeze as he hums. “I’m not only dating their daughter, but I am also someone from outside their culture. If I have to answer a million questions, then I will answer them because I don’t want to miss my chance with this amazing girl just because I didn’t say what my intentions with her are.”

Whatever you were feeling before was gone and replaced with tenderness in your heart. You smile at Nanami, squeezing his hand back as you turn to face him completely. “You think I am amazing?”

“Without a doubt, I definitely would answer a million questions for you, no matter how weird I find them.”

As you giggle at Nanami’s words, your mom is standing at the kitchen’s entryway as she hears the two of you talk. You had that glint in your eyes, both when warning him and when hearing his compliment. You always had that glint when you really liked something, like an ice cream flavor or a toy when you were younger. But it was different somehow, more affectionate and much more hopeful. It was as if all tension left your body and that glint just affirmed such. You looked just as smitten when looking at him than when you talked about him.

Not only that, but she also took the time to look at Nanami. When he came in, she thought he felt indifferent about being here. But when she heard that shaky sigh of his when he comforted you, your mom wasn’t seeing that overly formal kid that bowed before her when he came into her house. She was seeing someone who was putting you before him, that glint in his eye as he talked to you. Your mom was planning on measuring him up, to determine whether this boy was worthy of you and cared about you. But now she wasn’t sure if her questions were that necessary. She would still ask them, but now it was because she was curious rather than cautious of him.

How could she be so critical of him when he was holding your hand so carefully? Or how he seemed as if holding your hand erased all the nerves he felt at the moment? He was just a kid and he seemed to care and feel for you a lot. She couldn’t be disapproving of him now that she saw this.

Your mom returns to the kitchen and announces that the food is ready, serving the plates and bringing them to the table. Nanami quickly offered his help to help your mom bring the tables from the kitchen to the dining table, which your mom accepted with a smile. A genuine one, not a wary one. You noticed the change in her smile, walking to her as she sat down the first two plates. But before you could ask her about it, both your dad and Nanami came back to the table and everyone sat down.

Nanami looks down at the plate before him, recognizing the smell as similar to the food that you have offered him before from your lunch. Deciding that he couldn’t let his whole first impression be based on questions alone, he decided to take a chance and looked up at your mom. With a small smile in an attempt to be as warm as she was with you, he said.

“I’m very excited to try your food, miss.” He lightly tilted his head in your mom’s direction, taking a deep breath to keep his heart from beating any faster from his worry to look good. “Reader always brings very good food as their lunch and is kind enough to share it with me sometimes. I can only imagine it tastes better when just made.”

Your mom looks at Nanami, her fork in the air as she processes what she just heard from the young man. You look at your mom and then at Nanami, whose smile starts to falter as if he feared he said something wrong or as if his comment was too much of a step for your mom. But he quickly relaxes when your mom gently laughs in delight.

“I didn’t know you had tried my food before.” She explains, placing a hand on her chest.

“Well, Reader has tried to show me more of their culture so I could learn about it before we started dating. Yet, food has always been something I enjoyed and they have shared with me the basic dishes. I have tried to follow a few recipes but I am afraid they are never as good as the lunches you prepare for them.”

It was as if a switch flipped in your mom’s brain regarding Nanami, smiling so brightly at the compliment. She put down the fork, making you and your father exchange glances at how quickly she dropped her guard at Nanami. Though the compliment certainly goes a long way, the little moment between you and Nanami from earlier was now warming her heart much more now that she knows he has tried to learn about your culture. Maybe as long as there was that dedication for her daughter, then Nanami could fit in just fine.

“I didn’t know you cooked, let alone that you have tried to cook something from our culture.” Your mom beams, her gaze softening despite her excitement as the tension leaves Nanami’s body with this new attitude. After all, he didn’t feel like he was being interrogated in the way you feared.

Dinner goes smoothly. Your mom asks the essential questions to know more about Nanami and how your relationship with him has been going so far, your dad shares embarrassing stories of you that you would’ve rather keep until after a year of dating Nanami for him to hear, and your mom offering her help to Nanami so he could get those last touches when cooking. But one constant was how hard you were smiling, you didn’t expect things to go this well. Yet, you weren’t one to complain.

Once Nanami is at the front door picking up his stuff and getting ready to head out, your mom walks up to you two and turns to Nanami.

“Thank you again for coming, Nanami. Please do come more, next time I’ll make sure to write a few of my own recipes. Maybe even come earlier so I can teach you how to make them.”

“Of course, miss. Everything was delicious and I am glad I have finally met you. I’ll make sure to keep your offer in mind for next time.” Nanami says, feeling quite sheepish at your mom’s excitement.

“Well, it’s getting late and you should probably get going. Be safe.” Your mom says, reaching out for his hand and shaking it once more.

Nanami nods and you offer to walk with him to the train station. Though before you can go, your mom gets close to you and asks you to invite him more often since she could definitely use more hands in the kitchen.

You sigh at your mom but nod nonetheless before you close the door and start walking to the station with Nanami, hand-in-hand. As you talk about tonight’s dinner, you two agree that Nanami meeting your parents was much easier than you both expected at first. After all, your mom was already nagging you to invite him next Thursday.

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kasssscali · 1 year ago

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Hi hi! I’ve got Digital Circus brainrot and I need to share this idea with you

What about some headcanons of Jax with a really tiny s/o? Like when they showed up at the circus, they’re just automatically tiny (I mean like small enough to ride on someone’s shoulder tiny, like toad sized)!

And they’re super chill- very go with the flow, just vibing. (Like someone picks them up and they just like “OoP I’m up here now)! I think it’d be a silly concept! Big asshole rabbit and his tiny s/o

Thank you and have a wonderful day/night!

A/N: yaasssss i gotchu

When you first arrive to the digital world, everyone is in aw of your size, yes they have seen and witnessed numerous things Caine has put them through

however, you are the first shock. At first everyone thought you where an npc given your small size

once Caine informed them that you where indeed NOT an npc you were quickly surrounded by everyone asking you questions you couldn’t even answer yourself

The tall chess piece named Kinger even asked you if you wanted to be apart of his insect collection given you’re small size

of course you said no.

“Looks like you got a little competition Pom Pom”. Jax said, now that you officially introduced yourself as the smallest of the group, you basically threw Pomni off her short throne

secretly Pomni didn’t mind at all, for her it was tiring to literally look up to basically everyone in the digital circus

but now it was your turn to receive that attention

and no, its the the type of attention you want at first, the attention feels similar to a situation where all your aunts would pinch your cheek and make remarks about how big you have gotten

obviously it wasn’t as direct as THAT, but the constant babying for a while was really annoying

but eventually it went away, your personality was a go with the flow type of vibe. And once everyone stopped gawking about how short you were, it was easier to bond with everyone

People picking you up? You were all for it

Even though the babying stopped overtime, it didn’t FULLY go away like you wanted

just that one particular had to make it more infuriating, and yeah ya’ll know who this ass rabbit is already

“how’s the weather down there?”

”OOP- sorry shorty! Didn’t see ya there!”

the lack of creativity was enough too drive you insane, your relationship with Jax wasn’t the best obviously. Jax didn’t have a structural relationship with ANYONE

it took some time, it took a lot of time actually but you were able to tolerate his existence after a while

your feelings from annoyance, to friendship, quickly enhanced to romantic feelings towards him

and once he realized that he shared romantic feelings with you too, you’re relationship between the two of you changed

the teasing of course didn’t stop, hell of course it would never stop

once Jax learned to be more affectionate with you, he would start surprise picking you up and throwing you over his shoulder

your so light compared to him, it’s hard for him to resist that urge to just pick you up easily

Because of your size, often you have a hard time keeping up with everyone in the circus

Jax will gladly throw you on his shoulder and let you enjoy the ride

while you’re sitting on his shoulder, he’ll have his hand over your thigh just to keep you safe and secure

he might drop you purposely for the fun of it

#jax x reader #digital circus x reader #Tadc x reader #tadc jax x reader #the amazing digital circus Jax x reader #jax #tadc Jax #the amazing digital circus #tadc

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jhondoe789 · 7 months ago

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One Bad Day

This is my first ever post on tumblr and I’m not sure if anyone will ever see it or if it’s worth reading but I had this thought and I wanted to share it with others. If anyone does read it I’d love to hear your thoughts.

In the famous comic/movie “The Killing Joke” the Joker says that it only takes one bad day to drive a person insane. As a fan of the Lackadaisy I had the realization that this can applied to all of the current and former main Lackadaisy characters (Mitzi, Mordecai, Victor, Zib, and Rocky). This collective “one bad day” was the day Atlas was murdered. This might not sound like it makes sense or could be applied to everyone but the day Atlas died started a chain of events that permanently changed all those affected by it. To best break it down I’ll go over how this “one bad day” affected each character.

MITZI

As the grieving widow Mitzi let her grief drive her to make increasingly morally questionable decisions that led to her losing Wick and Zib. Her pain led to her manipulating those around her, Wick for money, which would be discovered and ultimately lead to a break up with a woman he clearly had feelings for, and getting Rocky into getting alcohol despite the danger this puts him in. She becomes so obsessed with saving the Lackadaisy that the ounce beautiful Georgia rose was reduced to a prickly bush. When Zib offered her a way out her pain her trauma prevented her from doing so, all stemming from that one bad day.

MORDECAI

a man defined by order and precision, Mordecais meticulously constructed world fell to pieces thanks to one bad day. Atlas raised him and when he was taken away the structures that protected him collapsed. Despite his cold exterior he does hold compassion for those he cares about like Victor and Atlas. He abandoned and crippled Victor, his one and only friend after he refused to retire. Mordecai infiltrated the Marigold to find Atlas’s killer, making reckless choices, like crippling his best friend, getting sucked into a voodoo cult, kidnapping a man for information under the Savoy’s noses, and robbing the Lackadaisy, choices defined by pain, fear and desperation.

VICTOR

he never cared much for Atlas but his death made him lose his one freind who crippled him and now is forced to watch the Lackadaisy a place he helped build, rot. All while being reduced to a bartender and being further damaged by a shotgun blast to the chest, one can compare it to being trapped in purgatory all thanks to one bad day.

ZIB

Zib hated Atlas, not because of what he was but for what he did to Mitzi. Mitzi married a villain and after Atlas’s death became one. He held on to the hope that she would leave, that they could go on the road again. In the end, Zib would give up on her leaving her to pick up her pearls. After years in the Lackadaisy, Zib had been hollowed out, reduced to a drunken, tobacco stained shell of his former self, but watching Mitzi turn into the ruthless criminal she married broke him, a chain of unfortunate events stemming from one bad day.

ROCKY

Rocky is arguably the most tragic of all the characters in Lackadaisy, losing his parents at a young age, dominated by some form of mental illness that leaves him despised by most, kicked out of his Aunts house for an incident he may or may not have been responsible for, finding solid ground with the Lackadaisy only to see it all fall apart. Seeing everything burning around him he gave into his worst impulses in order to make himself useful to the Lackadaisy. His love (plutonic love) for Mitzi and his desire to be a part of the band led him to become increasingly erratic and reckless, he enlisted his cousin and Ivy into the fight, leading to Calvin becoming a killer and Ivy becoming more afraid and confused. Rocky may always have been crazy but the innocent antics of his youth were transformed into something darker and more destructive. One bad day brought the worst side of Rocky out just like the others.

CONCLUSION

“One bad day”, the Joker lost his family and was deformed by chemicals, his already poor life experiences provided a foundation for his madness. Like Joker the characters directly affected by Atlas’s death provided the final push that sent them into a spiral of despair, chaos, sadness and even madness. While none of these characters were exactly “ordinary” or good people in general, they had stable lives but when that was stripped away they were left broken and vulnerable leading them on their respective paths to damnation. Of course this is just my interpretation of these characters and I wouldn’t consider this little essay to be anything taken seriously.

thank you for anyone who took the time out of their day to read this and if you have any comments I’d love to hear them!

#lackadaisy #rocky rickaby #mordecai heller #mitzi may #lackadaisy cats #lackadaisy rocky

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mushroomates · 2 years ago

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frodo headcanons:

has a pickleing cabinet. sam knows of this. merry and pippin do not. frodo is very paranoid and worries about them finding out.

reads multiple books at the same time and sometimes combines elements or characters when referencing them and creates a new, better story

enjoys embroidery. likes to do little plants and animals over small holes, makes patches for friends.

tries to coerce nearby cats to come to him for pets. he is mostly successful.

feeds the strays of the shire (they’re not strays, mr. frodo, and the proudfoots kindly ask that you refrain from fattening up their cat)

has a old quilt that he’s very fond of and guards with his life. it’s made by some great aunt or another, and is terribly comfy.

horrible sleep schedule. almost non existent. will wander around the shire in the dead of night for “a breath of fresh air”

has scared many families while doing this and has been threatened several times

used to call gandalf grandpa. actually did on the fellowships journey. was mocked relentlessly for it.

falls asleep to the rain rather quickly. any bodies of water make him sleepy. he enjoys ocean waves, rushing rivers, babbling brooks and the quiet patter on his windowsill.

loves the beach. collects sea shells.

can not keep plants alive. does not bother, as sam steps in anyways.

has nicknames for people, mostly in his head. sometimes will let them slip. sam is sammy-boy, pippin is pipper or pippy, gandalf is gander. always refers to merry as Meridoc in his head as it’s somehow funnier.

he gets this from bilbo, who also gave his friends/relatives nicknames behind their back. they’d giggle and gossip together using said names.

used to call bilbo “bibbo”. uncle bibbo was all the shire referred to him for a while before the threat of no more bag-end parties was made.

he likes oranges and nuts, but in the summer he likes a good plum.

favorite seasons are winter and the beginings of spring when it’s still rainy. hates the heat.

might be allergic to pollen and/or lavender. still keeps flowers by his bedside and eats lavender tarts.

all couches, chairs and daybeds are piled high with throw pillows and blankets. it’s hard to sit down without being swamped by them.

used to pretend to be an elf as a kid. was horrified to learn bilbo spread this information to the rivendell elves.

sings songs frequently and in public. no one minds this.

likes the idea of hats, looks horrible in them and they mess up his hair anyhow.

cannot wrap presents well

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zablife · 2 years ago

Text

As Long As I Live (Part 2)

Tommy Shelby & Amelia Holland (OC) x Bonnie Gold

Summary: Amelia introduces herself to Tommy and gets acquainted with the Shelby clan, plus one of Tommy's men whom she has particular feelings about.

Author's Note: Requested by the lovely @kpopgirlbtssvt. This has taken some time for me to finish, but it's completed now and will be released once a week until we reach the end. There are 4 parts total.

Warnings: language, mention of pregnancy, mention of a weapon

Part 1

Tommy’s reverie was broken by the sound of boots thudding down the carpeted hallway. His hand hovered over the handle of his pistol as the door swung open, but he quickly released his grip as he took in the sight of a girl, no more than sixteen, standing at the threshold, muddied from riding and cheeks chapped from the cold.

A maid stood behind her out of breath with a ready apology. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Shelby, she ran past and I couldn’t stop her!”

“It’s alright, Clara,” Tommy replied. “Come,” he said with a wave toward the girl, removing his glasses and setting them beside his typewriter.

She hesitated only a moment as she studied him, then as if her mind was made up, dropped the bag she carried and paced toward him purposefully. He sighed heavily, knowing the reproachful look on her brow and the weight which caused her shoulders to slope. The question on her lips would be one he’d heard before, but he would allowed it to be asked just the same.

“Are you Thomas Shelby?” she began searching his steely blue eyes for a semblance of recognition.

“I am,” Tommy said with a nod though nothing in his affirmation was welcoming. His face remained impassive and his arms crossed at his chest defensively.

Amelia gulped, feeling his stare piercing through her and nearly lost her courage, but quickly regained it as curiosity got the better of her. “Then I believe you’re my father,” she informed him, not wasting any time revealing the reason she stood before him. She had a feeling he was a man who appreciated brevity.

“I see,” Tommy said simply, searching his desk for his cigarettes and lighter. Amelia furrowed her brow in confusion as she watched him take his time selecting a cigarette and rubbing it across his bottom lip carefully. “Have a seat. Tell me about yourself and how you came here,” he offered as he lit it and took a long drag. Rounding the corner of his desk, he leaned against the corner, watching the smoke rise to the ceiling as she spoke.

Amelia stood a little straighter, collecting herself to explain in the most direct way possible, but found it difficult to keep emotion out of her voice when mentioning her mother. “My name’s Amelia…There’s not much to tell really. Mum didn’t have much, but she raised me with kindness and love. She said you died in the war so I never thought to look for you until my aunt told me you were alive. I came because she didn’t want me anymore, but…I also wanted to meet you very much,” she confessed, surprising herself when she added the last part.

Tommy only nodded thoughtfully, exhaling smoke slowly as he responded in a flat, even voice that contrasted starkly to Amelia’s testament. “I’m a wealthy businessman and a member of Parliament, love. I get these kinds of visits more times a month than you can possibly imagine. Poor girls like you who tell me I left their mother to raise a child alone in the worst circumstances. I should write them all down and make another fortune in penny dreadfuls,” he said with a humorless laugh.

Amelia felt her blood turn to ice as she listened to his callous words. Her jaw tensed involuntarily and she found herself striking back before she had time to think. “I didn’t come here for your money, Mr. Shelby. I came to find my father,” she said, voice shaking with emotion. “You don’t want to admit it? That’s fine because I would never claim a heartless bastard like you either,” voice raised to match her growing temper as she stood face to face with the man who had chosen cruelty over compassion.

For the first time, Tommy’s eyes fell upon her and the necklace that hung around her neck. His fingers reached for the sapphire and he blinked quickly at the sudden recognition of the gem. “This…this necklace. Where did you get it?” he asked feeling momentarily unbalanced.

Amelia pushed him away, shaking her head in fury, “I didn’t steal it, if that’s what you're asking!”

Tommy’s entire disposition changed in that moment as he was transported back to 1914. He remembered the dappled sunshine of the hazel tree and afternoons spent in the arms of a girl with raven hair as his fingers grasped the air in front of him. “I gave that to a girl before France as a promise. When I returned her family wouldn’t tell me where she’d gone,” he said quietly, more to himself than Amelia as the memories resurfaced. Some members of her camp swore they’d seen his girl, Izzy, with a swollen stomach soon after his departure, but it was a rumor he’d chosen to forget in his heartbreak.

He looked at Amelia now, studying her carefully. “What was your mother’s name?” he asked, squinting at her.

“Isidora Holland,” she replied hesitantly, concerned by the sudden change in his mood. “I-I think I’ve made a mistake in coming here,” Amelia replied, rushing to the door to retrieve her bag.

As the fog cleared from Tommy’s brain, he called out “Amelia, wait! Where will you go?”

Amelia fumbled with her bag, shifting her weight as she replied, “I’ll find a place to make camp. Don’t worry about me. I can take care of myself.”

“I’m sure you can, but let me offer a room as an apology for my remarks…please,” Tommy pleaded. If this was his daughter standing before him he didn’t want them to part this way.

Amelia stared past Tommy and out the large window watching the rain begin to fall in menacing torrents, an inhospitable gloom descending over the house. The crackling fire in the office beckoned to her and she was practically salivating at the smell of something delicious coming from the hall. She told herself she was staying for the comforts provided and not the apology of a man she barely knew or trusted, but a small spark inside her wanted to believe in the love story she'd briefly glimpsed.

———————————

Lizzie took the whisky glass from Tommy’s hands and placed it on the table as he took a seat on the bed. “You’re certain, Tom?” she asked.

Still in disbelief himself, he spoke quietly, “she has the necklace, Lizzie.” She hummed, knowing all too well what it meant. In their early days of acquaintance, when he’d sought her body for pleasure and comfort, he’d confided about his lost love. When the opium and whisky hadn’t dulled enough of the pain, he talked and hated himself for sounding too like Arthur.

Lizzie came to stand over her husband and placed her hands on either side of his face, rubbing her thumbs against his hollowed cheeks in soothing circles. He tilted his head up to look at her, searching her eyes for a hint of anger or jealousy. He found none, only compassion for the young girl who had appeared on their doorstep.

“If it’s true what she says about her aunt throwing her out, we can’t turn her away. She has a home here with us,” she assured him.

Further down the corridor, Amelia wasn’t settling into the idea quite so easily. Running her hand across the beautiful oak dresser in the room adjacent to the nursery, she found a row of gilt frames with family photographs. The first to catch her eye was of Tommy and his wife with their two children, a boy and a girl, a perfect little family. The next was of Tommy smiling for the camera, pride evident in his face, as his son looked up at him in wonderment. Her fingers caressed the glass feeling like an intruder.

As she wandered into the empty nursery and found the children’s teddy bear, tea set and carved, wooden horses, she wondered what she had disturbed when she arrived today. Holding a soft baby blanket to her cheek she ached to be close to her mother again and feel comforted by her. There were so many thoughts and questions swirling in her mind about why her mother's family had kept her mother and father apart and what kind of person her father really was. She knew now she wanted to stay long enough to find out.

——————————

Amelia awoke just before dawn, leaving the house to stroll the grounds in the soft pink haze of the morning light. Listening for the sound of the horses, she ambled slowly toward the stables to visit them in hopes of finding solace there. It was a habit she’d had since she was small and it never failed to quiet her mind and slow her racing pulse when she felt anxious about something.

However, this morning she found she was not alone. As she approached the first stall she startled at the sight of someone beside her horse, the man's white shirt billowing in the wind to reveal a gun tucked into the waistband of his trousers. “Mornin’,” the young man with ruddy cheeks and an easy smile greeted her.

“Who are you and what are you doing out here?” Amelia asked a bit more defensively than she intended.

“Could ask the same of you,” he said with a chuckle, going back to his work.

“I’m here to tend to my horse,” Amelia stated.

“And I'm already doing it, so you might say thank you,” he retorted.

“Didn’t ask for your help,” she mumbled, still trying to decide why a stable hand would need a gun.

Making his way out of the stall, the young man cocked his head at her as he wiped his hands on his trousers. “Are you always so bad tempered in the mornin' lass?” he asked. “Look like you’re ready for a fight!” he said, punching the air quickly before dissolving into laughter.

Amelia was thoroughly irritated with him now, shoving him aside to get to her horse.

Wiping the sweat from his brow, Bonnie took a deep breath and leaned against the door. “Don't be like that. I was just having a laugh. My name’s Bonnie. What’s yours?”

Amelia eyed him suspiciously as she ran a hand down her horse’s neck. “Amelia,” she eventually replied, turning her attention back to the animal and pressing her forehead against the soft fur of its nose, hoping the boy would go away.

“I heard about you from the lads on watch last night. They say you’re Tommy Shelby’s long lost daughter. Are ya?” he asked.

Turning to look him in the eye Amelia scowled. “Who did you say you were?”

“Bonnie. Bonnie Gold,” he said with a grin, his hazel eyes catching the early morning rays and shimmering back at her with little flecks of golden light.

Amelia took a step toward him, recognizing the name. “You were the ones thrown out of the fair last year,” she recalled. Bonnie looked wounded, face falling as she continued with her indictment. “You and your kin are nothing but a bunch of thieves and swindlers. Everyone says your da rigged them fights,” she accused, raising her eyebrows in challenge.

Bonnie’s chest puffed out at the insinuation he’d cheated, stepping closer to her as he asserted, “I could fight a fucking tree and knock it out. Never had to pay anyone to take a fall.”

“If you're so tough, how come you carry a gun everywhere, even to a stable with only little ponies?” she taunted, face inches from his. “What are you scared of Bonnie boy?”

“Oi! What’s going on?” Tommy’s voice boomed from the doorway.

“Mr. Shelby,” Bonnie said in surprise, jumping back from Amelia. “I was just finishing up.”

“Get on with it then, eh?” Tommy said with a jerk of his chin.

“Yes, sir,” he replied, picking up a pitch fork and stalking off.

“Amelia, what was that about?” Tommy asked, noticing the flush in her cheeks.

“Just getting to know your employees,” she lied, turning back to her horse quickly.

“And?” Tommy said, shoving his hands into his pockets and rocking back onto his heels as he awaited an answer. He sensed there was more she wanted to say, but was holding back.

Amelia looked in the direction Bonnie had gone, biting the inside of her cheek. “You should know his family’s got a bad reputation in our community,” she warned.

Tommy huffed out a little laugh. “You should know better than to believe rumors.”

“What does he do for you anyway?” Amelia asked, feeling bold and seizing her moment to ask indirectly what Tommy’s business actually entailed.

“Oh…a bit of everything, but you might be glad to know he isn’t at Arrow House most days,” Tommy assured her.

“Why is that?” Amelia ventured yet another query, studying Tommy to see if he would continue to humor her.

He took a deep breath, eyeing her carefully before continuing, and she knew this would be the final explanation for the morning. “He’s in training at a boxing gym in Small Heath. Bonnie is a gifted athlete and Arthur manages his fights," he explained, taking a step toward the door. Then in a loud clear voice he proclaimed, "Now, if I’ve satisfied your questions, Frances has made us some breakfast." He rubbed his hands together to ward off the cold before stating, “Join me." It was a statement rather than a request and he instantly began walking toward the house at a rather fast pace.

“Wait!” Amelia called after him, running to catch up. “I’d like to take care of my own horse if it’s all the same to you,” she requested.

Tommy stopped to look at her, seeing the note of concern in her eyes, he agreed. “Alright, but you should know Bonnie’s a good lad.” Amelia nodded, though she wasn’t ready to believe it just yet.

—————————

From then on Amelia took up her rightful place in the family as though no time had passed. She played with Charlie and Ruby, teaching them games she learned as a small child. Her fierce protectiveness over them developed naturally, supervising them when she took them for walks by the river or led them around the stables on the horses. Naturally, they adored her and her kind smile which they saw more of as she settled into Arrow House.

Lizzie enjoyed her company as well. It was a comfort to her, having someone in the house who was able to calm Tommy when he came dangerously close to working himself to death. Amelia brought him out of the office and into the dining room when the maids failed to garner his attention. On those occasions, the whole family was regaled by her tales of travel. Tommy and Lizzie were most eager to hear about the years they’d spent apart, but they never pressed her for more information than she was willing to share.

Many times after dinner as Lizzie and the maids readied the younger children for bed, Tommy had a few moments alone with Amelia to discuss any questions she had for him. He was open and honest with her in a way he had difficulty with in the past. He wanted her to know him, feeling guilty for having been absent for so long. Amelia responded to this bonding exercise, constantly keeping Tommy on his toes with her multitude of questions about his ambitions. At times he wondered if he should be so frank with her, but her maturity made it easy to explain.

———————————-

The morning Polly returned from her honeymoon with Aberama, Tommy whisked Amelia away from Arrow House in his Bentley to meet the train. When Polly received the telegram she too was anxious to see what she’d only glimpsed in the cards. Over the years she convinced herself what she saw couldn’t be true, but as she stood beside Tommy on the train platform, the proof was undeniable.

“My God, Tommy, she’s Izzy!” Polly exclaimed, watching the girl from a distance, Amelia's wild, dark hair dancing in the wind. Polly held a hand up to shield her eyes from the sun taking one last look before glancing back at Tommy. He too was staring as Amelia approached, now unable to deny the resemblance.

“How did you find her?” Polly asked in confusion and slight awe, still acclimating to the news that Tommy had another child.

“She found me,” Tommy replied. “Zelda threw her out. Told her to come find me,” he explained.

“That family was always a mystery to me,” Polly admitted sadly. “How’s Lizzie taking it?” she inquired.

“Lizzie knows all me secrets, Pol,” he said and with a knowing look Polly nodded.

“And the children?” she asked.

“They act as though she’s always been here. She’s teaching Charlie to swim and Ruby begs her to braid her hair and have tea parties,” Tommy said with a smile that crinkled the corners of his eyes as he looked off into the distance, inhaling a deep breath of fresh air.

The look of genuine happiness was not lost on Polly. There was one last question on her mind, but she couldn’t ask it of him now, not when peace had descended for the briefest of moments. Amelia would find out soon enough what it meant to be a Shelby and if she was smart, she would choose a life having nothing to do with their business. Polly promised herself to protect Amelia that day as she watched father and daughter together, thinking of the things she might have done differently with Michael.

Continue reading Part 3

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

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#Peaky Blinders fanfic #Peaky Blinders imagine #Tommy Shelby #Tommy Shelby fanfic #Tommy Shelby imagine #Bonnie Gold #Bonnie Gold fanfic #Bonnie Gold imagine #bonnie Gold x OC

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