#it's all i could ever ask for given the situation but i miss my parents and my sister and my cat and my family and my aldeia :') | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

cosmiclily · 3 months ago

Text

.ᐟ chapter one: can you see me using everything to hold back?

wc: 1k

cw: talk about death of parents (literally one sentence)

the first time we met, the first thing I noticed about vi was her ridiculous haircut and how she had the most beautiful blue eyes i had ever seen (which wasn’t saying much, considering I was only 10). i instantly wanted to be her friend. but my mom had told me that she and powder were still adjusting and their situation was a little delicate since they had just lost their parents. so, i held myself back as much as I could.

three weeks later, when the adoption papers were signed by vander and they officially became his daughters, i was given the mission of helping the girls feel at home. they were very shy at first, but ekko and i helped them, and in no time, vander’s house had become their home. from then on, vi and I became the best of friends. i covered for her when she got into fights at school, we studied together, played together, we were basically inseparable.

i remember one afternoon not long after the adoption. vi was sitting on the roof, kicking her legs idly and staring at the stars. she looked lost in thought. I hesitated for a moment, not sure if i should bother her, but eventually, i walked over and sat beside her.

“what’re you doing out here all by yourself?” i asked, trying to sound casual.

“just thinking,” she said, her voice quiet. she didn’t look at me, but her hands fidgeted with the hem of her shirt. “it’s weird, you know? having a new home.”

i didn’t know what to say to that, so i just nodded. “yeah, I guess it would be.”

she finally looked at me, her gaze piercing but soft “do you think it’ll get easier?”

i smiled, trying to reassure her even though I wasn’t sure myself. “yeah, i think so. you’ve got vander now. and powder. and… me.”

she smiled for the first time that day. “you’re not too bad, I guess.”

i laughed. “not too bad? wow, thanks for the compliment.”

──────────────────────

life couldn’t have been better—until we got to high school and vi had a growth spurt and became insufferable. not only did she get taller and figure out how to manage her hair, but she also developed a sense of style and made it her mission to break every heart in zaun. Suddenly, every hallway we walked down was filled with girls trying to catch her attention, and she seemed to enjoy it.

one day, as we walked home together, i couldn’t help but tease her about it.

“you know, you’ve got a fan club now,” i said, smirking.

vi raised an eyebrow. “a fan club? what are you talking about?”

i gestured back towards the school. “those girls who basically tripped over themselves trying to say hi to you. pretty sure one of them nearly fainted when you smiled at her.”

she laughed, a confident sound that only made her more infuriating. “can i help it if people think i’m charming?”

i rolled my eyes. “charming? not so sure. annoying? definitely.”

she bumped her shoulder against mine, her grin widening. “admit it, you’d miss me if i wasn’t around.”

i looked away, trying to hide the flush on my cheeks. “yeah, right. you’re just my backup for when ekko’s busy.”

“liar,” she said, laughing again.

i shouldn’t have cared about any of that, but my brain decided it would be a fantastic idea to fall in love with her. so, every time she had a girl around—whether it was someone new she was flirting with or a girlfriend she brought home—i had to pretend life was great and that it didn’t affect me at all.

it got harder as time went on. every stolen glance at her became more unbearable, every casual touch felt like torture, and every time i saw her with someone else, it felt like a reminder that she’d never look at me the way I wanted her to. but i couldn’t show it, couldn’t let her or anyone else know how I felt. i was scared our friendship would suffer the consequences of my feelings, so i buried it deep, pretending that everything was fine.

which it was, it actually became second nature by the time we moved in together for college.

our apartment was small but comfortable, and vi's personality seemed to fill every corner. she had insisted on hanging a crooked poster of a rock band that jinx had gifted her—a band she loved—in the living room, despite all my protests.

“it’s not crooked,” she argued, stepping back and tilting her head. “it’s artistic.”

“it’s crooked,” i said, crossing my arms. “fix it or i’m taking it out.”

vi grinned at me. “if i fix it, where’s the fun in watching you suffer?”

“you’re impossible.”

“you love me,” she said casually, turning to grab her drink from the counter. my heart stuttered, and I quickly looked away before she could see my face.

“unfortunately” i said, but it came out without the bite intended.

──────────────────────

late one night, we were sitting on the balcony, watching the city lights. vi leaned back in her chair, her legs propped up on the railing, as she stared up at the sky.

“do you ever think about what’s next?” she asked suddenly, breaking the comfortable silence.

“what do you mean?” i asked, sipping my coffee.

“like… after college. what we’re gonna do. where we’ll end up.” she looked at me then, her expression softer than usual. “do you think we’ll still be close?”

the question caught me off guard, and I had to force myself to answer without hesitating. “of course. Why wouldn’t we be?”

she shrugged, her gaze drifting back to the stars. “i don’t know. life happens. people drift apart.”

“not us,” i said firmly, surprising even myself. “we’ve been through too much. you’re stuck with me, violet.”

she smiled, her eyes catching the faint glow of the streetlights. “good. i like having you around.”

my chest tightened, and I looked away before she could see the way her words affected me. “someone’s gotta keep you out of trouble.”

“hey, I’m a model citizen,” she teased, laughing. “you’re the bad influence here.”

i laughed too, even though the ache in my heart lingered. she had no idea the effect she had on me.

──────────────────────

album - track 2

notes: chapter one heehee, english isn’t my first language so i’m sorry for any mistakes!! this is basically just an introduction for the characters not much plot going on but i hope you guys enjoyed either way !!

#vi x reader #vi x y/n #vi x you #vi arcane #arcane #arcane x female reader #arcane x y/n #arcane x you #arcane x reader #lily writes

150 notes · View notes

thefiery-phoenix · 2 years ago

Text

PLATONIC YANDERE POTTER FAMILY X READER X WEASLEY FAMILY

In this AU, Harry's parents are well alive

You'd most probably meet the Potter family first before meeting the Weasley family and I have a feeling that they'd be friends with each other. You'd meet the Potter family on the day Harry was going to Hogwarts, James did have quite a legacy at Hogwarts for being one of the best Quidditch seekers the Gryffindor Quidditch team ever had. Harry was looking forward to follow in his footsteps and the two of you met at the Kings' Cross Station. Your parents couldn't come with you to drop you off because they had an important business meeting with some client in Switzerland and they left you with your aunt who only dropped you off at the station and took off almost immediately, leaving you all by yourself surrounded with complete strangers. You've never been to Kings' Cross Station before and you had no idea where in the name of Merlin was platform 9 3/4. You've asked the Station master nearby and he thought you were just messing with him and pranking him which was why he just shooed you away

You were at a loss, you didn't know what to do and whom to contact, it wasn't like you were given an official guide as to where the platform was. You started panicking, thinking that the Hogwarts Express would be leaving without you any minute and you'd miss your wonderful chance to go to Hogwarts. You couldn't help but blink back a few tears of frustration as you felt that the situation was spinning out of control. You sighed and sat down on a bench for a moment to think about what to do next. You spotted a family of 3, a young boy of your age wearing glasses with a scar on his head, along with his parents, a man who resembled the boy's appearance, his father perhaps and his mother with hair as Red as the autumn leaves were accompanying their son with his trolley. "Blimey Harry, can't believe you're going to Hogwarts. Time does fly by fast" said James dramatically as he wiped his fake tears away

His wife, Lily glared at him and whispered "Shh... what if someone hears?" "It'll be all right, muggles don't know a damn thing about platform 9 and 3 quarters and Hogwarts and all that" he waved airily as they walked past you. An idea suddenly formed and took shape in your head as you followed them and when you finally caught up to them, you spoke "Umm... hi there, good morning. I was wondering if you could please direct me to where platform 9 and 3 quarters is...I know it exists, I just can't find it..." you finished with a forlorn look on your face as they stared at you in amazement for a moment and they had a silent discussion with each other through their eyes. You were indeed, one of them. "Don't worry dear, we'll help you. Where are your parents though?" enquired Lily as you replied "They're in Switzerland at the moment" "Oh...who came to drop you off then?" asked James as you answered "My aunt. She had some work to do back at her law firm. She's a lawyer so... it's just me by myself" you laughed slightly as they felt sad. Even though they just met you, Harry could already sense you were a bit upset and sad about something, the way your eyes had that wistful and wishful lost look in them, James and Lily didn't think too kindly about your aunt and your parents either at the moment

Attending Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry and boarding the Hogwarts Express for the very first time was a magical once in a lifetime experience which would be memorable in one's life. How could your so called family just abandon you like that without even taking the time off from their work to even see you off properly? And did your family not care about your safety at all? What about all the dangerous and unknown strangers lurking around? The society and world these days isn't really that safe you know especially for sweet little things such as yourself. They decided to accompany you and show you the ropes as you tagged along with them and felt grateful that you'd finally catch your train in time

You noticed Harry's scar and when you asked him how he got it, he just had a sheepish smile on his face and replied "I was trying to catch a snitch at the Diagon Alley on my broom and I accidentally crash landed at Borgin and Burkes near Knockturn alley. The owner wasn't really that pleased with me when I smashed some of his stuff but the incident did kind of catch on with the other witches and wizards from the magical world. Some thought it was amusing and they think I'll follow in my dad's footsteps to become a great seeker like him" "What's a seeker?" you asked him with a confused and bewildered expression on your face. He stared at you for a moment and then it dawned upon him that you could have spent your life living with muggles and you probably had no idea what he was talking about. However no matter, he'd show you and teach you everything

You guys reached the platform just in time and you thanked them for their help as Lily hugged you and smiled "Enjoy yourself dear. Stay safe and have fun but don't get into any trouble" your heart warmed at her words, it was the sort of advice a mother would give to her child before sending them off into the real world all by themselves. You nodded as you boarded the train with Harry, saying your farewell and goodbyes to the Potter family. James and Lily couldn't get you off their minds for some reason, they were concerned with your safety and wondered if you were being treated well at home. Perhaps they'd better write to Harry after he reached Hogwarts to check up on you and update them about you. Just to be safe

You were talking with Harry and your conversation was interrupted when a ginger haired boy around your age dressed in black robes, with freckles on his face peeked in and spoke "Excuse me, do you mind? Everyone else's is full..." "Not at all" replied Harry as he motioned for the guy to take a seat in front of him. "I'm Ron by the way. Ron Weasley" he introduced himself as Harry introduced himself and you introduced yourself as well. The three of you were engaged in discussions when the sliding door opened again and this time, a girl with brown hair asked if any of you had seen a toad, a boy named Neville had lost one. The three of you said you hadn't spotted a toad and when she saw the wand in Ron's hand, she spoke "Oh, you're doing magic? Let's see it then" with an interested look on her face. Ron glanced at the two of you nervously but composed himself as he straightened his posture and uttered a spell which you were pretty sure wasn't even real because instead of turning his pet rat Scabbers yellow, he just made it frightened and it started scampering around everywhere till he finally managed to calm it down

The girl introduced herself as Hermione Granger and she disappeared after she told you three to change into your robes. You finally reached Hogwarts after a few hours and you were speechless by the magnificence and splendor before you. It looked exactly like the sort of castles in your bedtime stories your mother used to read for you when you were little, before she wasn't too preoccupied with her work and had time for you. You went along with the other first years led by a giant of a man named Hagrid who you thought was quite nice and friendly. Then the head of the Gryffindor house, Minerva McGonagall who was also the Transfiguration professor gave you all some background information about the houses

"Slytherin is filled with dark wizards and witches. And crackpots too" whispered Ron to you and you felt nervous, you didn't want to get sorted into Slytherin and lose your new friends. Professor McGonagall then asked you all to wait for a few moments as she needed to get some things ready for the sorting ceremony and as soon as she left, a blonde haired guy spoke "So it's true then, the sayings on the train... Harry Potter has come to Hogwarts" as everyone looked at him in surprise and muttered among themselves. "This is Crabbe and Goyle. And I'm Malfoy... Draco Malfoy" as he introduced himself and Ron snickered in a not so subtle manner. Of course Draco heard it and wasn't really pleased with his reaction as he sneered at him. " You think my name's funny do you? There's no need to ask yours... red hair, a hand me down robe... you must be a Wealsey..." as he turned back to Harry and spoke "You'll have to know by now that there are some Wizarding families that are better than the others Potter. You're a part of the Sacred 28 after all,you don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort..." and glared at Ron again

You barely knew Malfoy for 5 minutes when you intervened "I'm sorry, what exactly makes a family a part of the Sacred 28? And Harry can make his decisions for himself. Of course, if you were a part of a Sacred family, your values and morals would be decent as well. Else you wouldn't be insulting people right off the bat as soon as you meet them". Some of the first years around you 'ooohed' when you said that as Malfoy's face grew hot and red with anger as he snarled "Stay out of this. No one asked you for your opinion" and you just rolled your eyes in response. Harry and Ron stared in amazement at your courage as Hermione was observing the scene from a distance away. It was your first day at Hogwarts and you were already getting ready to fight? She looked on rather disapprovingly but part of her admired your courage and loyalty for your friends by standing up for them. Which was why she also gripped her wand in her pockets just in case she could pull it out if the situation got out of hand. She didn't want anything happening to you for some reason

It was time for the sorting at long last, the moment you've been waiting for and Harry, Ron and Hermione were sorted into the Gryffindor house whereas Malfoy was sorted into the Slytherin house. The sorting hat was placed on top of your head and it muttered "Hmm.... interesting. Very very interesting...." as you nervously looked up at it and asked "What is?" "In all my years of sorting students into houses, you're truly something. You have bravery, courage and loyalty, fit to be a Gryffindor and yet, that cheek, determination and lots and lots of ambition to make you a Slytherin. Plenty of brains, the curiosity and hunger for knowledge is in there as well, you'd do well in Ravenclaw. You're also kind hearted and have the good old nature that Helga Hufflepuff was talking about...hmm... where to put you?" it asked you

It was quite an interesting predicament because never before did anyone see the sorting hat have trouble sorting someone into a house. Everyone looked at you with bated breath as you could feel everyone's eyes on you which made you a bit conscious of yourself but you tried your best to ignore the feeling. The headmaster, Albus Dumbledore was watching you quite closely as professor Snape, the Potions professor seemed interested as well. After a few moments of deliberation, the sorting hat finally sorted you into Gryffindor which you felt relieved about. Harry, Ron and Hermione felt immensely glad that you were in the same house along with them. You felt an exhilarating feeling course through your body when everyone clapped for you as you joined the Gryffindor table. You were introduced to the Wealsey siblings present there, Percy Wealsey, the third oldest who was the Gryffindor prefect, Fred and George the twins who were overly fond of pranking people and you made a mental note to not get on their bad side. The last thing you needed was to wake up with horns on your head or something or a tail for that matter

Harry, Ron, Hermione and you became fast friends pretty quick but you refused to talk with them when they didn't include you in the quest for the Philosopher's stone. It broke their hearts but it was for your own good,you couldn't be put in danger like that. They cared for you too much and it drove them crazy when you ignored them or just glared at them angrily and stormed off. You finally softened a bit towards them when they said that they didn't want to put you in danger and they just wanted you to be safe. You started hanging out with them again as usual and they were elated, the days you refused to even spare them a second glance was utter torture for them. Harry, Ron and Hermione were like your three overprotective shadows, always around you no matter what. They've appointed themselves as your official caretakers and grew possessive and obsessive of you really quick

Harry wrote to his parents about you regularly as Ron did to his parents as well. During Christmas your parents forgot to send you your Christmas presents and you felt heartbroken. Harry, Ron and Hermione were mad as hell so they pitched in and got you some treats from the Great Hall and a few Christmas goodies of your own like a journal from Hermione, a cute quill set from Ron and from Harry, a book he thought you might be interested to read along with an encouraging note from all three of them. Of course they've mentioned to their parents that you haven't received any gifts for Christmas and you've received dozens of parcels from the Potter family and the Wealsey family, even though you hardly knew them. But they knew everything about you, more than you could know about yourself. You've received puddings, Tarts, cakes, pastries, sweaters, a maroon jumper with a W stitched on it and a snowglobe with a cute tiny snowman inside it. You felt grateful for their presents and sad at the same time for your own parents and family forgetting about you just like that

You were even more crushed when your parents said that they needed to go to France for a work conference and your aunt would be preoccupied with a huge case in the muggle world which meant you couldn't go back home. You were pretty devastated when you were invited by Ron to spend time with his family as Harry stated that his parents would join them at the Weasley's house for a couple of days. You agreed and upon reaching the Wealsey house, you could feel the warmth and homely feeling the atmosphere radiated. It certainly did give off homely vibes. You wished your family was also like this. You were introduced to Molly, who hugged you and spoke "So you're the famous Y/N my Ronald keeps talking about all the time... it's so nice to finally meet you dear" as Ron heatedly yelled out "MUM!" as Fred and George snickered in the background, whispering about how Ron was a simp for you as he told them to shut up

You were even introduced to Arthur Weasley, the father of Ron and the other Wealsey siblings who worked at the Ministry of magic, Bill Weasley who worked as a curse breaker at Gringotts the Wizarding bank in Egypt, Charlie Wealsey who worked with dragons in Romania which you found extremely fascinating. There was also young Ginny Weasley, who'd be starting Hogwarts next year. She was shy at first but she really opened up to you and she had fun being around you. The Weasley family loved and enjoyed your presence, it felt like you were part of their family already

Percy could see you becoming a head boy/ girl or prefect and he wanted to become your guide but Fred and George kept stealing you away to their room to show you their latest inventions. They loved it when your eyes sparkle and light up in curiosity, they feel proud when you take in interest in their inventions as do the other Wealseys when you enquired about their hobbies and pastimes. Molly wouldn't even let you step out of the house when it was time for De- gnoming the garden, she didn't want you getting injured and everyone agreed that it would be best for you if you'd stayed in while they'd take care of the business

A few days later James and Lily showed up at the Burrow and greeted you warmly as all of you sat down together and discussed various things over some nice hot steaming bowls of soup and a scrumptious feast laid out by Molly and Lily. When you were asked about your love life by Ginny, you literally choked on your soup as Molly patted you on the back and James handed you a glass of water. "Ginevra, that isn't a question for the dinner table" said Molly with a death stare as everyone present there became very interested in what you had to say. "Believe it or not, some guy from our Potions class, Troy Mullers asked me out for Valentine's day" "What did you say?" asked Hermione as everyone felt that sudden protective urge to make sure you were safe by all means necessary, even if it meant getting that Troy schmuck out of the way. They won't stand for someone to romantically court you, you were too kind and innocent to have your heart and feelings being taken for a ride by some random immature guy you barely even knew

"I... I rejected him. He wasn't happy about it and he called me all sorts of mean names but... it's not something I'm not used to" you shrugged it off as they all felt anger course through their veins. Who dared to make you sad and upset by calling you mean names and hurt your feelings? In fact Charlie was ready to send a Hungarian Horntail after them and Fred and George would send them Howlers after Holwers and packages with explosive Dungbombs from Zonkos, the Wizarding joke shop that go off as soon as you open the parcel. They were seething and they all came to a single conclusion, you had to be taken under their care for your own good. And judging by the way your so called family was treating you, you wouldn't want to be spend more time with them anymore which was a huge favor for them. Besides, what good is a family if they can't take care of you? Don't worry dear, they'll look after you and care for you like their very own. You've become a part of their families now whether you wanted to or not and it's like they say, family ALWAYS comes first...

990 notes · View notes

harleehazbinfics · 1 year ago

Text

A day off without you.

A/N: i missed my goobers

--- Cannibal Chef!Reader m.list

You never took any days off, especially when you loved being by Alastor's side. So, what was the point if you took a break when you won't see him? Today however, you were left in the hotel without Alastor. When Charlie saw him leave the hotel without you tailing behind him, this left Charlie with a chance to kidnap you.

"Come on! Let's go to Lu Lu Laaaand!~" she sang wearing a duck hat and waving a yellow flag around.

You tilted your head unable to comprehend the situation while all the others just sighed and shrugged following her lead, pretty used to Charlie aggressively suggesting exercises that would help them 'get along better' however, nowadays they didn't mind it, they pretty much enjoyed each other's company, except for you.

You never really minded them. You always stuck by Alastor's side besides when he talks to them that's the only times you get to interact with them. So, taking the opportunity Charlie brought you along with them.

"Are you sure we should bring cannibal bitch over here?" Angel whispered leaning down on Charlie while you inspected the little hat and eventually putting it on your head with a derpy look in your face.

"Of course! We never really had the chance to talk to them since they're basically glued to Alastor all the time. I want everyone to get to know each other and get along," Charlie explained feeling sorry for you that you never got to experience any relationships aside from what you had with him.

Angel merely shrugs and replies, "You're the boss."

"Ooh! Ooh! (y/n)! Let's go on that!" Nifty excitedly points at the rollercoaster while her other handheld yours, like a little kid with their parent.

"Oh! That's a great idea! Angel why don't you sit next with (y/n) while I sit with Nifty?" Charlie asks holding Nifty by the armpits while the little goofball smiled.

Both of you shrug indifferently as you got on the ride, going on a steady pace to the top.

"Have you ever ridden one of these before?" Angel tries to start a conversation almost awkwardly.

You shook your head not even smiling like you used to when you're with Alastor, and answered in a monotone voice, "No, I'm always with Sir Alastor so I don't really have a chance to. Even when I was alive I was always cooking or playing around with Yuta."

He only looked at you sadly, compared to him you were clearly much younger when you died and spent majority in hell bowing to someone's will even if you were willing. You never had freedom to do something for yourself.

He was snapped out of his thoughts when the ride finally started as you both plummeted from a grand height increasing his adrenaline. With many twists and turns, and lots of excited screaming from him and the back, he turns to you and sees eyes filled with interest and fascination.

On wobbly legs all of you chattered excitedly as you got done from the ride. Angel looks at you to see the excited look on your eyes and a small blush on your cheek from the thrill.

"How was it, doll?" he asks with a grin.

"It was... fun," you reply with a little smile and flushed cheeks.

He purses his lips from disbelief that he saw a genuine smile on your face. He thought that you could only smile if you were given the attention you wanted or when you kill people. But you were still young afterall.

The other also saw this exchange and couldn't help but be happy for you. So, they took you on more rides and made you wear more duck themed clothes and had wonderful times together where they saw you break into a smile or laugh multiple times.

By the time you arrive back at the hotel, Alastor waited for everyone by the balcony drinking coffee by himself.

He sees you from the distance laughing and talking to Angel and Husk sharing jokes and stories from the trip with one another. He smiles candidly seeing you enjoying yourself, however he couldn't help but feel somewhat annoyed that you were giving a smile that wasn't for him.

But he'll let it slide for now.

"Sir Alastor! I brought you some gifts from our trip!" you yell from below him waving your hand enthusiastically.

"Did you enjoy yourself, (y/n)-dear?" he asks appearing before you.

"Yes! I had lots of fun with everyone!" you smile genuinely making the group feel like the trip was worth it after all, ending in a happier note.

mini explaination here why i made reader this way: reader was a culinary student that pretty much dedicated their life pleasing other people that they thought that was the only way for them to be happy (e.i. laugh, smile, etc). that's why they poured their hours on Yuta and Alastor to feel validated. so i wanted them to have a connection with Angel since he's the only one who canonically has siblings, and i wanted them to form that bond for probably future chapters. that and i want to reader to have a chance at a real family, when their's abused them and all. that's all thankkkkssss (also they just hate Vox lmao, probably shift between she and they from here)

300 notes · View notes

jmagnabo92 · 1 year ago

Note

So I saw a post on Instagram, and it said:

‘Isn't it funny how James Potter decided to bully and harass a malnourished little boy from an abusive family just for existing, and years later, James' son became a malnourished little boy from an abusive family that bullies him just for existing’

And all the comments were agreeing and saying things like, ‘Karma’, ‘Glad I’m a James Potter hater’, ‘Don’t understand how he has even one fan’

And I was like… what??? Was so tempted to write a whole thing about it but decided the hate I’d get wasn’t worth it. What are your opinions about this?

WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK??!!!

That's my initial reaction.

Don't these people know that the sins of the father shall not be visited upon the son?

It's not karma for Harry to suffer for James' mistakes. It's bullshit and I hope that no one that believes that has ever done anything wrong in their lives or their kids shall suffer. AND THERE"S NOTHING FUNNY ABOUT THIS BS.

Now, let's point out how else they're wrong.

First of all, I had to re-read the Prince's Tale - and mind you, I did skim it so I could've missed things, but there is NO WHERE that says he was 'malnourished' as a boy. Not a single description said anything was physically wrong with Snape like malnourishment. It talks about his mismatched clothes, and his parents arguing. There's a line about James having an 'air of well-cared for - ness that Snape lacked' but there's NOTHING that he states he was malnourished or even abused.

So that's utter BS. I won't argue about the abuse, but there was no evidence that he was malnourished.

As for the about "just for existing" - I think a lot of people forget that SWM canonically happens *after* James saves Snape's life from Werewolf Remus. The reason that it's easy to figure that out is there is a scene with Snape/Lily arguing about the MM thing and she literally mentions James saving him the other night.

The next scene is SWM.

Now, before get into that importance - I want to point out that in the scene about MM & the saving of Snape, Lily asks, "Why are you so obsessed with them?" and if it was a relentlessly unfair bullying situation there's two obvious answers:

A) he's been bullying me for years

B) I have to obsess so I can get one over on them.

He doesn't say either of those things - you know what he *does* say - he says "Potter fancies you"... and more about 'how great he thinks he is'.... isn't that rather suspicious?

You know what's also suspicious? If Snape's being relentlessly bullied than WHY DOESN"T HIS BEST FRIEND KNOW THE OBVIOUS? Maybe because it wasn't a situation of bully/victim - maybe it was a rivalry like Dumbledore suggested in the first book.

Now, back to the timeline:

So James saves his life and yet says "it's the fact that he exists" - which sounds terrible, right?

Of course it does, but here's the thing - Snape had literally as recently possibly two weeks previously (we don't know *exactly* when but sometime between Nov of 5th year and OWLs) had attempted to (at best) OUT Remus (at worst) KILL Remus - who is ONE of James' BFFs. Now - on top of that - we know that Snape has been obsessed with a theory for ages about Remus. We see this in the MM & Saving conversation - Lily says "I know your theory" with the air of someone that has heard his theories before. Given that he only found out *for sure* within a few days of that conversation that suggests that he has been going after Remus for a while.

So, here we have Snape's attempt to get Remus out or killed and James has every reason to hate him - he's a loyal guy. He believes in his friendships so much it cost his life and literally learned something that could put him behind bars *just to help his friend*. Whatever happened, however it happened, that doesn't matter to James.

What *does* matter is that Snape tried to detrimentally hurt his friend. So he has a reason, but in SWM, he literally *can't* say that. He would be outing Remus and he's not going to do that.

Which means he NEVER did anything *just because he exists* - he had a reason, he just couldn't say it.

Now, why does James have fans?

Because he's a good man. This is the man that did stupid shit when he was a teen, sometimes for good, sometimes for bad, but nothing he did was ever on par with the things that Snape was doing - I've got a while post on that.

After he grows up, he joins the Order - to do good for people that he doesn't have to care about, yet does. He does so much good, he becomes a target. In that, he then goes on to give his life for wife and son. And they think this man doesn't deserve fans? What Bullshit is this??

***

ANYWAY, my longass point here is that: They're idiots, and I kind of wish that some people had more thought into the situation. James deserves better.

#james potter #Pro James Potter #Anti Severus Snape #Anti Snape #Meta

259 notes · View notes

rafesfavoritegirl · 5 months ago

Text

where currents collide

chapter 2: escape

𓂃⋆.˚ Viv, John B’s younger sister, just wants to escape the chaos of the pogues for a little while, after John B decided she can't come to a Kook party. After a night of tension and betrayal, she seeks some peace on her own, but it’s never that simple when you’re surrounded by the Pogues. What starts as a quiet moment alone on the beach turns into something unexpected when old wounds and new faces collide.

word count 1.1k

Content Warning: Mild language, emotional conflict, sibling dynamics, mentions of substance use, and tension-filled situations.

Trigger Warning: Mentions of family trauma (loss of a parent), emotional distress, mild substance use (marijuana), and moments of secrecy and betrayal.

As I watched everyone leave the house, I accepted defeat with humility. They were always going to perceive me as a little girl. I was disappointed in Jj most of all. He never used to choose sides. But now, knowing how he really felt, it stung to realize he was just like the rest of them. It all left me mentally and physically drained, pushing me to take a nap and escape for a little while from everything that had happened.

༄ ༄ ༄

I woke up feeling dehydrated, still unsettled by everything that had occurred earlier tonight. In an effort to clear my head, I decided to build a bonfire. I do not often get the house to myself, so I figured it was the perfect chance. Stepping into the yard, I spotted the hammock that Jj, John B, and I had put up when we were kids, still hanging from the tree. I grabbed some extra firewood to revive the ashes from the bonfire a couple nights before and headed back inside for a lighter, my phone, and my headphones.

Once I was back in the yard, I started to light the fire. When the flames finally caught, I settled into the hammock, slipped in my earbuds, and blasted my favorite playlist. The cool breeze brushed against my face, and for a moment, I realized maybe it wasn't so bad to have missed out on the chaos of tonight.

Just as I started to get comfortable in the silence combined with the arguments that happened previously, I did not hear the infamous sound of the half-broken twinkie entering the front yard, muffled by the music still in my ears. Once settled in, they made their way into the backyard, and suddenly, I could not ignore the look on their faces. They sat down, unintentionally crashing my bonfire, their eyes landing on me in my relaxed state.

"See? Told you staying home wouldn't kill you," John B said with a smug grin, clearly pleased with himself.

It only fueled my internal anger, making it burn even deeper. How could they sit there, knowing I was still upset? No apology, just laughing and reminiscing about the greatest night they have ever had, like nothing was wrong. Seeing my best friends ignore my existence, continuing to smile and laugh while I sat there in utter silence.

Hearing them all talk over one another, what caught my attention was Kie's voice: "Dude, when Jj brought the gun! I swear we were gonna get arrested," she said, and the rest of them laughed, agreeing with her.

I pulled off my headphones, cutting in. "Wait, what gun? What happened?" I asked, concern and curiosity creeping into my voice.

Kie dismissed me with a casual wave. "It was nothing," she said, laughing as she spun around, her back turned to me once again.

That was it. I stood up abruptly, my frustration boiling over. "Fuck this," I muttered, walking off without another word.

I headed to my room, shutting the door behind me, and sat down. For a moment, I just stared at the wall, my mind racing, trying to figure out what to do next. It took a moment, the silence giving me too much space to think.

༄ ༄ ༄

The bright white full moon shined through my window, and suddenly, an idea sparked. I needed to get to the beach—just to clear my head. I knew everyone was asleep by now, either in the living room or in John B's room, given the lack of space in our house.

That thought reminded me of how I would get there? The idea hit me out of nowhere, like a sudden rush of clarity. I could just take Jj's weed and the keys to his dirt bike. I needed a way to get out—escape, even if just for a little while—and the bike would get me to the beach in no time. Jj would not even notice, right? It was not like he was gonna miss it tonight, or even notice it was gone. Fixating on the thought, I convinced myself I would be back in time.

I knew where he kept everything—he always kept his stash of marijuana in that jar on the communal nightstand, and the keys to his bike were usually tossed carelessly on the dresser. I could not even explain why I was doing it, but it felt like the only way to get some space.

With that thought in mind, I quietly crept toward his room, my heart racing, but my mind set on the plan. I quietly opened Jj's door and paused for a moment, glancing at him as he slept, admiring how peaceful and cute he looked. A rush of guilt hit me—doing this behind his back felt wrong, but I could not shake what he had done. I knew he would be furious if he found out, but I had to go through with it. I tiptoed over to the drawer, quickly sorting through his mess, finding condoms and loose jewellery, until I found his dirt bike keys, weed and rolling paper. I left the house swiftly, starting up the bike, the engine roaring to life. I glanced back at the worn-down house, checking the window to see if I had woken anyone up. Coast clear. I grabbed the items I needed, then rushed out of his room, with everything at hand, I knew there was no turning back now.

༄ ༄ ༄

The moon reflected off the blue ocean as I parked the bike and made my way down to the beach—the same one the Pogues had visited not too long ago during their rioting. A few kooks were still hanging around, but I paid them no mind. I spread out my blanket and got ready to roll up.

I sat there, the mix of marijuana and saltwater breeze filling the air. For the first time in a while, I felt at peace, the worn-down headphones that I had earlier playing softly as I drifted into a stoned calm.

The kooks from when I had first arrived were packing up. Their infamous jeeps slowly rolled off the beach, and a part of me did not care, but another part felt relieved to be completely alone now—no talking, no people. Just silence.

That was until I saw a tall, shadowy figure making its way toward me. I did not think much of it, assuming they would just pass by. But then, without warning, the figure sat next to me. I was confused—though, in my stoned state, it did not register right away. I glanced to my right and froze. It was none other than Rafe Cameron.

Follow the wattpad, this fanfic will be posted consecutively every week with new chapters! : https://www.wattpad.com/user/rafesfavoritegirl-

45 notes · View notes

officialjada · 2 months ago

Text

Sukuna x FEM reader

(Toxic relationship.. Of course it's Sukuna)

Love, it was an emotion you held with delicately and close. You never once let anyone take it away from you, you just was keeping it safe as much as you could.

That was until you met him. Sukuna, a man who held violence and rage close to his heart rather than love. Yet he found you interesting so he said. Highschool was supposed to be your escape from him and his other 'friends'.

They would torment you, however Sukuna was worse. He would beat you, shame, touch you, yell at you, what ever you name it. You never felt safe, so when you traveled with your parents, you never came back.

Highschool was a different situation, about your 2nd year he came to fool with you again. His annoying smirk that held nothing but rage and glee. His red eyes pearing into your soul as if he had found his lost toy.

"Thought I would never find you again N/N."

And his torment started once again. And he had managed to make everyone think that you both were dating.

You couldn't take it anymore, everytime you would see him you would move the other way as tears slowly formed in your eyes. It seemed like love was slowly dropping from your hands, replacing itself with fear and sorrow.

Yet you couldn't move as your parents jobs would never allow it, so you suffered silently again.

☆

"Y/n, your grades are slipping again. You're losing sleep and you bearly talk to me again." A soft voice spoke, her hands cuffing your face as she looks into your eyes. Her (e/c) colored ones shines softly as her limp holds a frown. "My baby." She whispered, tears softly formed in her eyes as she continued to look at you.

"Please tell me if something's bothering you. Am here for a reason."

"Mama." You mumbled, voice softly cracks as you blinked. You leaned in and gave her a hug, it really has been awhile since you had given her a hug. You missed that warmth, that love she gave to you. "I missed you, your love your warmth. I really missed you mom." And she hugged back.

☆

"You told your mom about me huh?" Sukuna asked, his grin growing as you slowly backed up. Your eyes were wide as you took multiple deep breaths yet it seemed you couldn't calm down. "You're supposed to be suspended!" You yelped, pushing your self back until the environment turned black. And that's when you realized that you were set up in a trap.

You rubbed your button on your cardigan softly, eyes never once leaving the male in front of you.

"Can't I just give my girlfriend a Valentine gift?"

He rushed forward, locking you in place. His hand just slightly above your head, pulling on your hair as he looks excited. "I got suspended because of you. I didn't really like how my girlfriend was all alone. Any guy could've taken her."

Tears filled your eyes as you shook your head left to right. "No please, j..just let me go." You answered, fear tugging at you as you try to piece together what was he going to do.

He leaned in, his third arm holding your waist as his 4th took hold of your face. Pulling it to him as he squash the face fat to poke out your lips. And he drove right in.

"Happy Valentines Day."

A very late Valentine's day gift, so I thought I would've just do Sukuna's part with it. So here you go!

#Spotify #sukuna #x reader #female reader #jjk #sukuna x reader #valentines day

27 notes · View notes

johnwickb1tsch · 11 months ago

Text

Excessive Force : a Tom Ludlow x Fem Nurse Reader (COLLAB W/ THE AMAAAZING @treedaddymcpuffpuff 😘😘😘) - Chapter FOURTEEN ---> (all chapters)

trigger warnings: mention of police shooting, child trafficking, past childhood trauma, abuse, etc. plz take care!

“Are you serious?!” You have to move the phone away from your ear to avoid a blown drum from Sheila’s screech.

“Yup.”

“Okay, why don’t you sound as excited as me?”

“I’m nervous. He’s really forward. And, I haven’t been on a date in forever.” That didn’t end horribly… You’ve decided not to count the fiasco with Julian. You’re in your room, fingering through the limited collection of nice clothes in your closet. You briefly debate wearing a turtleneck and thick linen pants just to piss him off. But, also, there’s that little sundress you bought at the mall that you’ve never gotten a chance to wear… The pretty, soft color would pair very nicely with your silky cream bra and panty set—that you also have never worn. You’re starting to re-think the whole not being a prude thing.

Plus, it’s hot outside.

Sheila pulls you from your search. “Listen, if he tries anything, just kick him in the dick. Works every time.”

“He’s like eight feet tall. I don’t know if I can reach his dick… with my feet.”

You both giggle.

“That’s why they make step stools.”

“Like, for that exact reason?”

Sheila’s one of those people that has proven to be supportive. You met her on a bus tour your first week in LA and have been buddies ever since. It works perfectly since you both have hectic work schedules and don’t really expect anything from the other one. She calls you for drinks, you call her for lunch. Sympatico.

“Obviously. So, he’s tall. Is he hot?”

You tug your bottom lip between your teeth when you think back to his bare, bruised body on your exam table, those mile long, strong thighs that caged you in and felt more like they belonged to an Amazon Boa rather than a man.

“Okay, that silence either means hell yes or hell no, so which is it?” You hear the grin in Sheila’s voice.

“First one.”

You end up telling her about his persistent hospital visits, him pulling you over, maybe omitting some—okay, no, a lot of the details just so she doesn’t want to kill him just yet. You also haven’t told her about the Julian debacle–or that Tom basically rescued you.

You also leave out that he just happens to be the new superhero on every news channel right now. You’re still processing that yourself, and it’s not boding well for you keeping your cool with this man.

As it turned out, it was the news that informed you of Officer Tom Ludlow’s whereabouts those lonely night’s you’d missed him harassing you on that lonely stretch of highway. He wasn’t ignoring you. He was rescuing two teenage girls who had been kidnapped and trafficked by a gang. According to the report, Ludlow had entered the house after hearing a cry for help, alone, and gunned down every single one of the gangbangers before setting the girls free.

Parts of this story should have alarmed you, but there had been a time in your past when you would have given anything for a person of authority to ride to your rescue, red tape be damned. How many times had the cops come to your house for a domestic disturbance between your parents, and left you in a bad situation because of some legal technicality or another? How had they seen you, scared and dirty, cowering in the doorway, and left you behind? The horrors you could have told them, if only they’d cared to ask without your parents there to overhear and threaten you, but every time until the last time, they’d just left you in the hellhole that had been your childhood home.

How different your life—your sister’s lives—would have been if you had a Thomas Ludlow back then.

The twin girls’ MISSING posters and billboards were all over the city. Most anyone with the power to do something had given up on them as a lost cause, just another sad story, written them off as tragically probably dead in a gutter, but not Ludlow. Ludlow had risked his neck (and possibly his badge, because you’d heard of the old “I heard a cry for help” trick to gain entry, and it was almost always code for “I didn’t have a warrant, what are you going to do about it?”, to get them out, and goddammit if that didn’t just warm you to your toes and soften your heart.

Worse yet, you feel like the biggest asshole for calling him a fraud, to his face, the night after it all went down. He’d just taken it on the chin, and he still asked you out.

Ok, he technically extorted you, but it just doesn’t feel as sinister now as it had last night. He’d been bold, and borderline needy for some human tenderness, and fuck if you didn’t understand all too well why now.

Now, rather than having to keep yourself from tearing him a new one, you were afraid you were going to have to restrain yourself from crawling into his lap at the first opportunity, and fucking his brains out for being such a goddamed hero.

“Oh, he’s a freak!” Despite saying this, she sounds like she’s twirling her hair and kicking her feet.

You snort. “He’s got..uh…nice hands.”

You decide on the sundress and the bra-panty set, but you don’t bother laying them out in preparation, because you’re still telling yourself that this isn’t that big of a deal and you’re not that invested and that if Tom Ludlow kisses you, you won’t burst into flames.

You want to take a bath, leave some scent of those seldom used lavender lemon oils lingering on your skin, but decide against it.

No. Actually. You’re doing it. Taking a nice, warm, spiced soak, rubbing lotion over every piece of you except the very sensitive bits, shimmying into the undergarments. The panties end up being cheekier than you like, but your butt looks cute, and the dress covers everything pretty good, anyway—well, everything that matters.

After putting your hair up in a messy bun and throwing some mascara on, you’re ready for—actually, who the fuck are you kidding, you are the opposite of ready. Borderline panicking at the thought of this man coming to pick you up and taking you out and putting on his lewd charm and ruining this cute underwear.

By the time he buzzes downstairs, it’s too late to decide on another pair of shoes. You have to live with sandals—with the fact that he might just look down and get a full, unfiltered view of your toes curling when he opens his pretty mouth.

You’re totally fucked, here.

You think it again when you open the door, finding his lean form all in black, leaning on the wall with his hands in his pockets and his full bottom lip between his teeth, like he’s already thinking about eating you up. You literally feel it as his eyes look you up and down, from your messy bun to your pink painted toes. It’s been two seconds, and already you are soaked between your thighs.

Doomed. You are just fucking doomed, and a part of you is just ready to surrender, because it takes so much goddamn energy to fight your attraction to this man. You can feel it like live electricity crackling over your skin.

Of course, there’s that other part of you that wants to run right back up those stairs and lock yourself away from this gorgeous devil.

“Hey, beautiful.”

Your mouth opens to reply, but your brain takes a few seconds to catch up, utterly short circuited by how ridiculously handsome he is in his black button down, his dark pants belted low on his hips, those big feet in black boots. It’s a little strange, seeing him without his badge or his gun on his hip–but you can work with this.

“Hi,” you answer, scathingly clever as ever.

“Ready to go?”

You’d brought down your purse, to avoid inviting him into the private sanctuary that is your little shoebox of an apartment, but now you almost regret it.

“Yeah. Where are we going?” You step out the door, but he doesn’t move back, relishing your close proximity with a smirk. But there is a new softness in his brown eyes as he looks down at you that makes you a little weak in your knees. He reaches up to touch your cheek, feather light, and it boggles your mind how this man can be such a beast, and yet so gentle when he wants to be.

“You’ll see.” You narrow your eyes at him, but for once, it’s more playful than fueled by annoyance. “Relax,” he says, his shapely mouth dancing as he suppresses a smile. “You’re in good hands, honey.”

You don’t even flinch, as he drives this final nail into your coffin, the wave of desire inspired by the thought of those oh-so-capable hands and what they just might do to you tonight buzzing down your spine. This is how you die–you are strangely, almost, ok with it.

When he has you safely ensconced in the passenger seat of his sleek black Charger you look over at him, his long arm draped over the wheel as he navigates the hostile environment of LA traffic like a shark patrolling a reef. “So…I saw you on the news last night.”

He lifts one of those dark brows, though his expression remains otherwise unreadable. “Haven’t really looked at what they’re saying,” he admits, like he’s used to the media getting the details wrong towards their own ends.

“They said that you saved two underaged girls that were being traffiked?”

His mouth turns down, and you wonder if you’ve killed the happy vibe of the evening so soon with your nosy questions. But then again–you need to know. It’s a gnawing curiosity in your gut not just for the events that transpired, but the man who orchestrated them. Who you are currently alone in a car with, so you reason you have a right to know.

“Yeah,” he simply answers, not keen to crow his own praises.

“And you…killed all those guys?”

He gives a sigh that seems to come from the bottom of his soul. You sense a weariness in him that he’s never shown on the outside before.

“Yeah.” A long silence draws out between you, before he adds, “They were very bad dudes, y/n. Please don’t be afraid of me.”

You can’t exactly say that you’re not–but ironically, the news of him shooting down those gangsters really has nothing to do with it.

“I’m not. I mean–if they were abusing those girls, then they deserved it.”

He looks you over then, an appraising look as though you’ve given him some new information about your character. Maybe information you didn’t exactly mean to give away, but it’s out there now. He’s going think you’re a kindred spirit–or a blood thirsty gremlin.

Either way, you don’t really want to discuss why you sympathize with those girls, and with him.

“Are you okay?”

This question seems to take him aback, like he truly wasn’t expecting it. He’s surely used to being a pillar of stoic manhood, but you know this shit takes its toll. “Yeah. I’m fine, sweetheart. Thanks.”

You eye his hand resting on the center console, and a part of you very badly wants to reach out to him and take it. Almost as though he can sense it, or maybe because he wants it as badly as you do, he holds out his hand palm up in invitation. It’s possible you stare at that hand for a beat too long, his wide calloused palm and long blunt fingers. Long enough that he tries to play it off, starting to take it back, before you quickly lace your fingers with his. The way he smiles to himself sends warmth blooming all the way to your toes, and you’re glad he’s driving because they do, indeed, curl in your sandals.

You give him a little squeeze, relishing the way your hand feels so tiny and protected in his own, and say, genuinely, “I’m sorry. For calling you a fake cop.”

He clicks his tongue. “I’ve heard worse from people that aren’t half as pretty as you.”

You want to fight with him on that—scoff, roll your eyes—but you just can’t, because as much as that small, whiny part of your brain tells you he’s lying, the bigger, rational part absolutely knows just by the sincerity in his tone that he thinks you really are a pretty, sublime creature.

“But I still kinda think you’re a jerk,” you half tease.

“Mmmm, what happened to that feisty little thing I know? She change into a cute sundress and suddenly become sweet?”

You are loathe to admit the real reason for your change of heart.

“You wish.”

He chuckles. “Bet I can make you sweet.”

You’re a total idiot for what comes out of your mouth, and your underwear is the one that will more than likely end up paying for this mindless insolence. “How?”

He brings your hand up to his mouth, lips brushing over the thin skin of your knuckles, sending a spear of desire through your arm and into the rest of your body. You make a tiny choked noise when his tongue peeks a taste of your skin, going unfocused and fuzzy, radio static and full throttle cavewoman.

He kisses the center of your hand, then murmurs, “With sugar, silly girl.”

It's not only the panties that pay a high price, but also your throbbing heart, pleasantly tense and hot and full of desire.

He must find your slack jaw and blank stare immensely entertaining, because he’s laughing low and soft, rumbling in delight.

“Are you okay?” He asks.

“I’m fine.” There has never been a more heinous lie uttered in this entire state.

You’re fairly new to LA, but you soon realize from your surroundings that he’s taking you to the Santa Monica Pier.

You are thanking the universe and the gods when you arrive at your destination. Five more minutes—hell, seconds—trapped in that car with him and you would have climbed into his lap and started barking.

When he swings into a parking space designated just for Law Enforcement you turn to him with a lifted brow, as though to say, Abuse your authority much?

But you already know the answer to that. This date is a product of it. And so far…it’s not so bad.

“Do you like fish tacos?” He asks, keeping your hand and massaging that bulky thumb over your wrist.

“Shouldn’t you have asked that before you made a reservation?” you taunt him.

“No reservation,” he informs you with a quirk of his mouth. “But the manager owes me a favor.”

He waves around the busy avenue and beach walk bustling with people, peppered with colorful shops and restaurants of every kind. “Pretty sure we can find you something you like, if Mexican food with an ocean view isn’t your thing…” He says it with a smirk, and you’re seriously not sure if you want to kiss this man or smack him. Maybe both, but save it for later, sings out the little devil on your shoulder before you can tell it to shut the fuck up.

Good lord.

You’ve heard of the restaurant–and that it’s famously hard to get into. You wonder if his connection is a product of a favor for a good deed, or a bit of blackmail. Maybe a little bit of both. You’re finding more and more that it’s hard to put this man in a single box.

“Honestly…?” You make him wait for it, and you can tell your effort to put this confident man on the spot only half succeeds, his dark eyes sparkling with mirth. “That sounds pretty amazing.”

This evil, evil gentleman. He opens your door for you, helps you out of the car, stands patiently while you fix your dress, only half looks at your exposed thighs before you pull the hem down and cover them up again.

Then, he threads his arm with yours and leads you onto the pier. You can’t believe you’ve never taken the initiative to come here before. It’s beautiful, lit up like a modern carnival of neon lights.

“Oh, can we go on the Ferris wheel?” You ask, looking up at him.

“Let’s get some food in you, and then we can do whatever you want.” He really needs to stop being so…caring. It’s seriously starting to mess up your insides.

You turn into a fascinated kid as you walk down the salt coated slice of wood built out over the ocean, looking this and that way, pointing things out, mentioning possible after-dinner activities. You feel like you’re getting annoying, but Tom just seems amused by your sunburned tourist behavior.

You pass by a little shooting booth with huge stuffed bunnies hanging from the rack, and he must see the way you’re ogling them, so he leans down close to your ear. “I could win you one of those?”

You grin back up at him. “I can win you one.”

“Oh? Little sharpshooter?”

It sounds like he doesn’t believe you, so you stick your tongue out at him between smiling lips.

He pokes your forehead in retaliation. “Anybody ever tell you how fucking cute you are?”

The restaurant lives up to its popularity and then some. It takes a while to get here, but you just know it’s worth every foot blister when they sit you down and immediately serve a popped bottle of iced sparkling water and delicious, warm salsa and chips.

You made it just in time to catch the purple orange sun sinking below ocean level, and the front row seats really just make the view that much more spectacular. At this point, you wouldn’t be surprised if a dolphin jumped from the water, illuminated by the dying sun, just like in the movies.

“This is… amazing.” You grab some tortilla chips to munch on while he pours you both glasses of the fancy water. “Have you ever been here before?”

“Once.” He doesn’t elaborate, so you don’t want to push the issue, but you can tell there’s some kind of ache behind that simple word.

“Okay, so you’re obviously not from LA—where are you from?” He leans over the table a bit, curious.

“Kansas.”

He opens his mouth, but you stop him because you already know what he’s going to say.

“Don’t do it.” You point a warning finger at him, giggling like an idiot.

“God, but I really want to,” he groans.

“So,” you say, taking another bite of chip. “Why did you become a cop?”

“You start with the heavy questions, huh?” he teases you. “Thought I was the one who was trained in interrogation?”

You suppose he’s right, considering your earlier line of inquiry in the car. But you shrug in response. Considering how you ended up here, you see no reason to tiptoe around things. “Just curious.”

He offers up an easy smile, letting you know you didn’t offend him. “Well, I actually always wanted to be a dentist.”

You snort with disbelief, trying to imagine this man’s bedside manner. But then, dentists do get to cause people a lot of pain… “Ok. Maybe that tracks.”

“I’m fucking with you,” he informs you with a smirk.

You do your best to appear annoyed, and fear you fail at it badly. “Guess it’s not hard to imagine you pulling teeth, is all.”

He huffs at that. “I always wanted to be a cop, since I was a kid. My old man was a detective. Killed in the line of duty. I guess I felt like I needed to pick up his unfinished business.”

You blink at that. You and your big fucking mouth. “I’m sorry,” you say, reaching for his hand across the table. He curls his fingers with yours, playing with your aqua painted fingernails with his thumb.

“It’s alright. Happened a long time ago.”

“How old were you?”

“Eleven.”

You squeeze his hand in yours, saying nothing.

“What about you? What made you want to be a nurse?”

You don’t really feel comfortable enough to tell him your whole coming-of-nurse story, so you give him the cut version: “when I was young and felt like I had no one, a nurse comforted me.”

“How young?”

“Ten.”

He winces. “Maybe I’ll get the full version of that story one day?”

There’s an epiphany, here, in this little restaurant with the comfy blue chairs, and it’s that Tom Ludlow scares you because he makes you feel something deep, deep inside your chest that you can’t even remember being there before he came along. Julian was easy, child’s play; although it stings, you’re writing him down as just another failed fling. You know if Ludlow gets his hands on your little sensitive heart, it will be a very different story.

You take a big drink of water to wash down the salty crunch. “Sorry.”

“For?”

“Being so…cold.”

He chuckles. “Oh, you are so cold. Gonna have to make it up to me.”

Warmth floods the top layers of your skin. “I already said I’d win you the bunny.”

You’re amazed at how easily he can transition back into a smooth, carnal beast. “I don’t know if that’s enough for me to forgive you.” The fake hurt in his tone should not make you squirm in your seat.

You bite like a dumb, good little fish should: “okay, then, how do I make it up to you, Officer Ludlow?”

You’re hoping to faze him with the sultry innocence of your tone, but it just fuels his devilish aura instead. “We can start with me turning you over my knee.”

You don’t have a retort, but your vagina absolutely does, and she gets you squirming in your seat.

He leans forward, knowing smile sure to be your undoing one way or another. “Would you like that?”

“Thought you didn’t want to hurt me?” You challenge, trying to keep cool despite the blazing Ludlow heat.

“Who says spanking has to hurt? Dr. Bitch?”

You can’t help the giggle that rolls out of you, and he seems to find it entertaining that you have to cover your mouth to hide it. “No, Tom, believe it or not, I am a grown woman who has lived an experienced life.”

“And how was it?”

You tilt your head. “What?”

“You know, when you asked one of your vanilla boyfriends to swat that gorgeous, plump ass a little bit? Just to see how it would feel.” He leans his chin on his palm, listening intently for your answer, and you think you might be on your way to spontaneous combustion.

How in the fuck can he just hit the nail right on the head like that? Know about parts of your life that you haven’t shared with anyone—not that there were many to share with. Are you really this readable?

Once again, he has your sharp tongue dulled with arousal and embarrassment, and you shift in the chair. “He did it, like, once and then stopped.”

“And did you like it?” He presses.

“Yes.”

He takes a little sip of his water, raising both dark brows over the glass at you. “Good to know.”

Tom recommends the margaritas and fish tacos, so you let him order for the both of you while admiring the view. You can’t decide which one you like better, his handsome face or the ocean scape.

As you are finishing your delicious dinner the last rays of the sunset are putting on a five star show for you, the sky painted that impossible deep blue and purple, the water shimmering like color-changing opals.

“It’s so beautiful here,” you sigh, and you catch him looking at you out of the corner of your eye with a softness you haven’t seen from him before. You get up the courage to meet his eyes, and he smiles at you, but for once not like he intends to eat you.

“You’re not in Kansas anymore, sweetheart.”

“Goddammit.”

He laughs at that, a real belly laugh that makes you warm all over even without the aid of your two nursed margaritas. “Ready to go?”

“Yeah. I’ve got to out shoot you for that little bunny now.”

This wins you more genuine laughter. “Alright, Annie Oakley. Lead the way.”

#tom ludlow #street kings #tom ludlow x you #excessive force street kings fic #tom ludlow x reader #tom ludlow x y/n #keanu reeves #keanuverse #keanuverse fic #julian mercer x reader #julian mercer x you #keanu reeves x you

80 notes · View notes

piratefishmama · 2 years ago

Text

Forgiven not Forgotten | Part 5

Two years.

Two whole years in that void.

Two years of his life. Gone. And he remembered none of it.

He didn’t even have time to ask questions either, because the moment the words “what happened?” left his lips, someone was pushing to get into the room.

“Everyone not involved with the Hawkins incident, I want you out of this room immediately.” A badge was flashed before the officials could argue, and a woman, unfamiliar to Eddie, but clearly having been through the ringer herself missing an arm and sporting one hell of a scar over the left side of her face, pushed her way through. “That means you officers, out.”

They didn’t argue, both leaving without question. Government.

“Stinson?” Steve was the first to identify her, while the others just looked on in surprise “you’re alive? Is Owens—”

“Despite the real effort those things put in to make it otherwise, yes. I’m here. Owens is permanently wheelchair bound but he’s okay. Mr and Mrs Harrington” She nodded to the two in the back, Steve’s parents holy shit. Okay. “I’ll allow you to stay on account of the fact that I don’t know what you’ve been told already. Mr Thompson, I thank you for your attendance however the government will take over from here. You’re not needed.” ‘Harold’ took one look at the Harringtons, then another to the men waiting outside the door, and chose wisely.

“Sorry John, government. I’m way over my head here.” He uttered, before making his quiet exit.

“I’m never hiring him again.” John sighed with a roll of his eyes, while Lynda stared Stinson down with an air of contempt.

“As if you could make us lea—"

“I’m the government, Mrs Harrington, I absolutely could have you removed. Now—” she turned back to the kids “I’ve already spoken with Hopper and the others, this… this issue is more important than their involvement. I know you don’t want to sign them, I know you have every right to tell the government to go fuck itself, I would too in your situation.” She rummaged through her bag, it took a little more effort than it would have normally given the missing other arm, but she made do, producing a folder from within. She placed it on the bed and opened it. A stack of NDA’s. “The government are prepared to clear Mr. Munson’s name, completely, without it ever going to trial, we have a number of names to take the fall for it, all perfectly believable with fabricated eye witnesses, but they only do this, if these are signed.”

“Are you blackmailin—” John spoke up, only to be cut off by the woman with a stern glare.

“Yes. Yes I am. I would rather not be. Listen, they will throw Mr. Munson under the bus, without hesitation, he’s the easiest person to pin this on as the story is already out there and people already believe it. You want their help, it needs to be a two way street. They are prepared to completely clear Munson’s name, and pin the crimes on someone else, they are prepared to create false witnesses, they’re even offering money. What you know is worth millions, and they will pay it to keep you quiet, but if you do not sign these… the second he’s cleared for release, he goes to jail for the murders of Chrissy Cunningham, Fred Benson, Patrick McKinney, and the attempted murder of Maxine Mayfield. You sign them, he leaves with you, a free man. His name will be publicly cleared by the days end. We’ll even make a hero out of him.”

“He is a hero” Dustin argued, a frown on his face.

“Exactly, I agree. The public don’t though. They will when we’re done with them. We need you to sign these” She looked at the Harringtons. “All of you. I’ll leave you with these and wait outside, call me back in when you’ve made your decision.” And with that, she walked out unhindered, leaving them all struck silent.

Until Steve moved. He grabbed the folder first, picking up the pen.

“Steve” Eddie started before anyone else could.

“You’re not going to jail, Eddie. I don’t give a fuck. It’s one piece of paper to sign and honestly who’d believe us if we told anyone anyway? Monsters running or flying through town killing people? Evil vines putting slugs in dead people, spores that kill shit, toxic air? Other dimensions? We’d be called insane, they’d probably class it as a mass hallucination from a gas leak or some shit, they’d put us all in the looney bin the second we opened our mouths. They’re offering to clear your name, and all we have to do is sign some stupid piece of paper. So I’m signing it.”

It was signed before anyone could stop him. And being legally an adult, it was binding. He passed the folder to Dustin, who while not legally an adult, signed it anyway. Then, both young men turned to the adults.

“Steven…”

“Sign it. Sign it and he’s cleared. These people don’t mess around, mom. No doubt the others have already signed. I get you don’t think it’s right, really I do, but—”

“Give it here, son.” John stepped forward and took the offered folder and pen, and was about to sign on the dotted line when—

“Good heavens, at least read it, John” Lynda took the folder from him, eyes on the document, skimming the lines on the page for anything that could fuck them over. “…Oh, give me the damn pen” she took that too, quickly scribbling her signature on her own before passing it back to her husband to sign. “The nerve of these people. This is blatant blackmail. Did he even—was he ever even guilty? Of anything?”

“No, he wasn’t. Unfortunate case of wrong place wrong time… twice. As unbelievable as that is.” Steve sighed, a huge feeling of relief washing over him. Eddie would be okay. He wasn’t dead, he wasn’t going to jail, he’d be fine. This incredibly stupid boy would be okay. “He’ll need a place to stay, Wayne’s—"

Eddie was sat up in an instant, his body complaining but he ignored it “Where’s Wayne? Is he okay? Is he safe? Is he—"

“Whoa whoa, big guy,” Dustin was quick to his side, a hand on his shoulder to steady him as that heart monitor went wild “calm down, Wayne’s okay, he got out before the barricades went up. We don’t know exactly where he went, but we’ll find him, okay? It just might take a bit of time.”

“In the meantime, he can stay with us.” All three sets of eyes turned to John Harrington as he closed the folder, holding it in one hand, Lynda smiling beside him, apparently content with the idea “Our current house only has two bedrooms, but we’ll make do until we can arrange to purchase something larger. I assume Miss Buckley will be staying too until we can find her parents. It’ll be a full house, might be a bit cramped, but we’ll manage. I’ve been stuck in stuffy boardrooms with more people for hours on end, and we hated each other. It’ll be okay.”

“I… dunno, is that—” Steve hesitated, of course Steve hesitated, Eddie didn’t blame him, they barely knew each other. Sure they had shared trauma but that didn’t really mean much between complete strangers. “I mean—” Steve looked at him “will you be comfortable? Staying with… with me?” and wasn’t that just the weirdest question Steve could have asked him.

“Dude… shouldn’t I be asking you that? I’m the freak here, why wouldn’t I be—sure! I’m fine with that, I mean, stranger things have happened, right?”

“Heh, right… if—if you’re sure it won’t make you uncomfortable or anything…”

“A jester in a palace, hanging out with a king, my my, how in the world could I be uncomfortable with that?” He smiled, wide, teasing, his cheeks dimpled as Steve rolled his eyes with obvious fondness.

Lynda grabbed her husbands’ arm subtly, taking his attention just long enough for her to utter the word “Dimples” at him while Dustin kept the others attention with his complaining about Steve getting to stay with Eddie. Steve immediately firing back with the fact that Dustin was staying too until they could find Claudia and not to be dumb.

He looked down at her with a small frown, then back at Eddie, realisation dawning on him just as quickly as it did his wife.

“Dimples.”

Part 7

#PirateWrites #ForgivenNotForgottenFiclet #Steddie #Post!S5 #Mentions of Kas Eddie #Hurt/Comfort #Miscommunication

656 notes · View notes

creatingblackcharacters · 5 months ago

Note

I was so glad to find your blog, because it’s given me the opportunity to find some awesome resources for my writing, but there was one thing in particular that I think I should send an ask about, so here goes:

I’m writing a story that focuses on teenagers trying to get revenge for different tragedies that they know we’re all caused by the same person. It has a pretty big cast, but there’s one character who I really feel like I need to talk about so I make sure I tell her story the right way. This character is a Black girl who sets out to find her missing younger sister, but there’s some details I’d really like to get peer reviewed first to make sure they aren’t offensive, or see if there’s anything I can do to make them better.

So, this character starts off as a “gifted kid,” kind of— she gets good grades, she plays an instrument, she has tons of friends, all the stuff parents want their kids to hav in school. Until she witnesses an incident that ends up scarring her, that is. (The incident is just a catalyst and not as important to this character, so I’m skipping the details. Someone died.) She suspects something’s going wrong in her town, and that people’s lives are in danger, but no one listens until it’s too late, and her little sister has gone missing. Now, here’s where things get to a point where I want to ask for help. The little sister was killed, and the older sister suspects that she could’ve been saved if the police paid more attention to her, and their ignorance when it came to the situation might’ve been rooted in racism. She develops a distrust of authority, including her own parents, and decides if no one else is going to destroy this evil, it might as well be her. The older sister then goes on a journey to try and solve the mystery for herself and ever silly come to terms with her sister’s death, all the while believing that she can’t go to the adults because they won’t take her seriously. Even if she’s a straight A student, even if they say she’s a bright kid, she worries it isn’t enough. Because when it matters most, they didn’t take her seriously. By the end of her arc in the story, the older sister has faced down the villain, accepted her sibling’s death and helped her spirit move on, while also making sure nothing like that will happen again— at least under those same circumstances. She comes clean to her parents about everything, and she actually has one of the best relationships with her family out of any other character in this story. But that’s pretty sensitive stuff. I feel like I can’t just wing it, I need to talk to people and see where I could go wrong, and where I could go right with this. I’ve noticed there aren’t a lot of stories where Black girls get to go on adventures and face down evil, so I wanted to try writing one myself, but I really want to do this character justice. If there are any tips you have for making this character authentic, any places where I should be particularly aware of the subject material, and any additional resources for writing horror with characters of color, I would love to hear them.

It all sounds interesting to me! But as always, the prompt versus the actual writing can always diverge. This is yet another situation where I'd find a Black sensitivity reader to follow along with your work so that you don't get sidetracked, especially with a topic as complex as misogynoir (there are people on my recent post who have volunteered!) I'm not sure if you read my latest lesson on horror, but there are resources there, plus lessons on stereotypes. I would also suggest finding those books and visual media with Black girl protagonists and watching them, studying how they are done and how the story is told. I'm sure there are lists on Google of media to start with.

#creatingblackcharacters #thatsjusttips #black character design

21 notes · View notes

getvalentined · 1 month ago

Note

For the ask meme: Aerith Gainsborough!

💭 How I feel about this character

Aerith. What can I say about Aerith? I'm in love with Aerith, but everyone is a little bit in love with Aerith. That's my girl, my sister, my daughter, my everything. She's wonderful, she's perfect, she'd never hurt me, she breaks my heart. I think about how much I want her to have a long, happy life, and I literally cry because she never will.

I'll always love the end of Rebirth because finally, over a quarter of a century after losing her the first time, I got to say goodbye. I didn't have to wonder if she knew that she would be missed. I know that she knew she was loved.

Aerith, my girl, I'm so sorry.

💞 All the people I ship romantically with this character

My favorite ship for Aerith is an OT3 with Zack and Cissnei, although I ship her with both individually as well. Zack is canonically indicated to be in a relationship with both of them at the same time in CC (adding his parents recognizing Aerith from letters alone in Rebirth really drives this home, since they also met with Cissnei several months prior and seemingly encouraged her to marry Zack), and the way Cissnei talks about Aerith is so...I dunno, there's a sort of reverence there that you don't hear from her regarding anyone else. They're all good for each other, and they're best for each other all together.

I don't actually personally ship her with Tifa (to everyone's surprise, I assume, given what a raging lesbian I am), but I really appreciate the concept and am in full support regardless of whether I personally feel like they have romantic chemistry.

🤝 My non-romantic OTP for this character

Tifa is a big one—I wish they'd gotten their shopping date with Cloud playing pack chocobo—but my favorite platonic relationship for Aerith is Tseng. Jailer and savior, protector and manipulator, everything she'd ever need and never want all at once, the relationship between Tseng and Aerith is complicated to say the least. There's no doubt that they love each other, but the ways they express love are very different, the roles into which they were both forcibly cast are very different, so it's hard to say if either of them ever really knew how the other felt before it was too late.

I hope they did, though.

🚫 My unpopular opinion about this character

I feel like any Aerith opinion is gonna be massively unpopular somewhere in the fandom, but I guess my most unpopular opinion is that she can't be saved any more than Sephiroth can. If Aerith survives, she isn't in the Lifestream to petition Gaia for aid, Holy never activates, Meteor flattens the planet. Rocks fall and everyone dies. Literally. She and Sephiroth are the scales of power during the Crisis, and they balance one another perfectly without Cloud to tip the situation one way or the other. They cancel one another out, and that means neither of them can be saved—not without the other, anyway.

If Aerith were to survive in the City of the Ancients, Sephiroth would win. Just like if Sephiroth were to have survived in Nibelheim, Aerith would have won—or, more accurately, she never would have had to join the fray in the first place. If one of them makes it through their destined death, they both do. If one of them dies, they both have to die. I could go into the parallels in detail (Cloud having an opportunity and the impetus to strike Aerith down even though he loved her, but not taking it, Genesis having an opportunity and the impetus to strike Sephiroth down even though he loved him, but not taking it; Sephiroth dying on one side of the Masamune in the place where his progenitor was imprisoned, Aerith dying on the other side of the Masamune in the place where her progenitors once thrived) but this is long enough already.

Aerith had to die, and she understood that. The hard part is that nobody else does.

🌟 One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon

I want to see little Aerith and Babyroth interacting in Shinra's labs. I don't know if this ever happened, but there was plenty of overlap during which it could have, so I like to think it did. I don't think we'll ever see it, but it would be so good...

[ for the character breakdown ask game ]

#aerith gainsborough #character breakdown ask game #ask game #headcanon warning #fandom ramble

16 notes · View notes

blue-slxt · 2 years ago

Text

Oldest Children

A/N: Just a quick little fluff blurb that I wrote a while back and I think it's kinda cute. So hopefully you guys like it too. This is just a quick little post until I get the first part of the next series up later this week.

Pairing: Neteyam x Fem!Metkayina!Reader

Warnings: Just fluff

Word Count: 800

Summary: You are the oldest daughter of Tonowari and Ronal and the responsibility of training the Sully kids falls on you and your siblings. You and Neteyam end up bonding over your roles as the oldest children of your families.

It had been about 2 weeks since the Sully family arrived on your shores. You had always heard tales of the Toruk Makto and his legendary triumphs against the sky people. No one ever thought he and his family would come to seek uturu, but given the circumstances, it was understandable. It was the safest option.

As the eldest daughter of Tonowari, you and your siblings were tasked with helping the children learn your ways of life. Teaching them how to properly breathe and ride ilu and hunt.

Even though it felt like a burden, you couldn’t help but take an interest in the family and how different your ways were. In particular, when they arrived, one of them caught your eye. When you and your sister emerged from the sea to see the commotion, you noticed her locking eyes with the younger boy in the family. You instantly knew she had taken a liking to him. It almost made you miss the glance the older boy gave you. He gave you a small smile and nod and you look away smiling to yourself.

It was a big adjustment for everyone and Ao’nung making fun of the kids definitely didn’t help the situation. After some time, and many stern talks, he backed off some.

You sit on the beach with Neteyam, the oldest of the Sully kids, and you trade stories about the forest and the sea. You both bonded quickly during the lessons since you were both the eldest of your families. You could relate to one another.

You sat cross legged in front of him, “hold up your hand”. He does as you ask and you place your hand on his looking at the differences. You take note of how much bigger his hand is than yours, but it was much thinner. Not adapted for swimming efficiently like yours was. And the color, the contrast of his darker blue skin against your aquamarine was striking. “Wow.”

You sit looking at his hand that dwarfs yours, but Neteyam is looking at your face of wonder. Your eyes lock onto his and he threads his fingers through yours. It feels like time stops. His big golden eyes are overwhelming. You clear your throat and drop your gaze, pulling your hand back into your lap. “So, tell me more. How are you settling in here? I know it is much different from what you are used to.”

Neteyam leans back on his hands and turns his face up to the sky. “I like it here, but of course, I miss the forest. But I have to hold it together for my siblings. It is important for me to set an example for them so that they can adjust here too.”

“That makes sense” you think out loud. “It’s hard being the oldest child. Having to be there for everyone else and live up to your parents’ expectations all the time, it’s draining. Sometimes I wonder what my life would be like if I were just one of the people.”

He shifts his gaze to look at you and cocks his head to the side. “What would you do? What do you want for yourself?”

The sounds of the waves crashing on the shore fill your mind as you try to picture your ideal life free of the burden that came with your lineage. “I would live a quiet, domestic life. I would mate with a strong warrior who would protect me and we would have lots of children.” The image is serene and it makes you sigh with content. Your attention is brought back to Neteyam when he grabs your hand. His eyes are narrowed on your face, but they are still so soft.

He leans in closer to your face and your breathing is getting heavier.

“If there were such a man who wanted to give you that life, would you have him?” You swallow the lump that’s formed in your throat and grip his hand back.

“In a heartbeat.”

He shoots you a quick smile flashing his fangs and it makes you feel like you could just melt. Before another word can be spoken between you, his name is being called in the distance.

“Neteyam! Dad says it’s time to come in!” it’s Tuk jumping up and down yelling from far down the beach. You both turn to look in her direction and you breathe a small sigh of relief at the broken tension.

While your attention is still turned in the direction of where the young child just was, Neteyam leans in and places one small kiss on your cheek. Your ears shoot up and your face is a deep purple. You touch the spot he just kissed still feeling the warmth while you watch him stand from his place in the sand and walk towards his little sister.

This boy was going to be the death of you.

#avatar #avatar the way of water #neteyam #neteyam sully #neteyam x reader #avatar fic #awow #neteyam x na'vi!reader #avatar twow #avatar neteyam #atwow neteyam #atwow #neteyam te suli tsyeyk'itan

222 notes · View notes

jiminrings · 3 months ago

Note

MISS MAMA CABINET MEMBER JIMINRINGS can we pls get another sneak peek for the c*ntroversial fics like u did before??? also if yes can u pls pls pls put in matilda i will give u my most prized pc for it

c*ntroversial fics sneak peek (2)

+ sneak peek 1

matilda series — wherein older bf jungkook’s love language is tough love, and he refuses to come through for you even in dire situations just so you could “learn”.

Your friends don’t like Jungkook.

They don’t like him for an extensive number of reasons and given everything they talk your ear off for, you’ve completely lost count about what exactly they hate about your boyfriend.

For starters, Jimin keeps reiterating that Jungkook’s too old for you at every chance he gets. The age gap between you isn’t too big in the first place and Jimin himself told you that he wouldn’t mind it — if, and only if, your boyfriend didn’t make a horrible first impression on him by looking him up and down (with a nasty look no less) and asking you out loud if you were sure about your choices regarding friends.

Hoseok doesn’t like Jungkook either, except this time, it’s for the reason that he’s too sure of himself. He doesn’t mind the age gap, but he does mind (read: loathe) the way that at the one time your boyfriend showed up for a dinner with you and your closest friends, his back remained stuck to the back of the chair with his arms crossed. Jungkook was just there as if he was forced to (he was) and Hoseok hated that smug look on his face more than ever.

Your friends hate the way Jungkook picks up the check, not because he was trying very earnestly to win them over, but because he genuinely thought they were unable to. They despise the way that they’ve had to have a conversation in the car about holding themselves back from cutting your steak or peeling your shrimp, only for Jungkook to not do any of that for you despise them backing off.

Your parents don’t even know about Jungkook’s existence because you’re sure they would disapprove; they’ve always thought that their only daughter would end up with a partner who treats her like precious cargo — not someone who treats you to go look for that precious cargo with your hands dirty and your knees scuffed.

Nonetheless, whether your family and friends don’t and won’t like Jungkook, you still feel the need to protect him.

There’s this overwhelming urge in you to have Jungkook in your arms, even if he’s bigger and tougher and older and more accomplished than you, all because no one’s ever done that for him. You know about Jungkook’s string of exes and he knows about yours, and with it, you know more than ever that you don’t need to change for him.

If anything, you just want to be yourself even more around him — even if Jungkook always tells you to learn how to stand on your own.

Your older boyfriend’s demeanor wouldn’t faze you if it was any other day; his blunt and discreetly concerned tough love for you wouldn’t bother you if only he wasn’t making it painfully obvious right now, out of all the instances, that he won’t bother for you.

Jungkook refuses to come to your aid, even if it’s him that you need the most, under the guise that he’s only making you stronger.

“You have to learn to do that yourself, Y/N,” he groans into the call, the frustration in his voice making it easy for you to visualize the picture of him in his high-rise office, pinching his nose bridge in annoyance as he treats your call for help like its another one of his work dilemmas.

“But I can’t, Jungkook. That’s the thing,” you seethe, running a trembling hand through your hair as you try to ignore the looks that you get from all the people in their fully-functional, intact-with-wheels cars that pass by you.

The whole situation’s nerve-wracking: from the way you keep hearing this awful sound in your chassis, to the way your blinkers are barely even working out of nowhere, and all the way to the sudden feeling that your car keeps veering to the left lane despite driving straightly — you feel like you’ve been blindsided.

You’re both blindsided by the sudden onset of driving anxiety (along with the sheer fact that something’s really wrong with your car), and the long withstanding fact that Jungkook, the man you love most, won’t drive the short distance to help you.

“You’re saying that even if you haven’t tried.”

trophy series — wherein f1 racer jimin thanks his famous ex-girlfriend for always believing in him in his victory speech.

You didn’t like a lot of things before Jimin came into your life.

For instance, you didn’t even like racing (or even stuck your nose into it by doing a grand total of one internet search by your own will) until you got introduced to Jimin by a friend of a friend and had thought that maybe, guys driving around in loops for god knows how many laps isn’t so boring.

Through Jimin, you learned that you could grow past your aversion to a lot of things — him included.

You weren’t the biggest fan of going out not unless you had unavoidable chores to do, and now, you find yourself asking Jimin to go out and do nothing with you every time his schedule opens up.

You didn’t like sharing anything from your personal romantic life to your parents when you were a teenager, but now, your mom asks you to bring your boyfriend more often so he could teach him how to cook, and your dad can’t stop buying matching hats for the both of them.

You hated the spotlight being on you no matter what context it was; whether it was your friend posting a picture of him and you wearing Jimin’s jacket being caught in the background (then posted to Pinterest the next day, which means therefore you’re now posted everywhere) despite not knowing who he was at the time (you were literally just cold and his jacket was on sale at the nearest souvenir store), or actually being with Jimin this time around.

You don’t hate being known as Jimin’s girlfriend — what you do hate is knowing that everyone else knows that someone else came before you and that you have to live with that fact.

You, and not Jimin, have to live with the fact that every time you come down to watch him, you’ll always have Seri, his ex, all around you. She’s on the billboard at the building a few blocks away, she’s on the video edits with whatever vaguely nostalgic-sounding music playing in the background, and she’s even on the white linen polos you’ve been seeing so often lately because it was her trademark outfit to watch Jimin.

Seri, Jimin’s first love and the nation’s sweetheart, came before you and you have to live with that.

“No, seriously. It’s fine. We’re all mature about it,” you reassure Jungkook for the millionth time because he can’t stop squeezing your hand in worry. Your friend’s more worried for you than he is for Jimin, even if he’s just a lap and a half away from clinching a historic win.

You’re mature about Jimin being friends with his greatest love because you can’t rewrite history, and because Jimin and Seri will forever be a part of each other’s lives in one way or another; worse, if they’re just being themselves, because it would mean you’re still you and technically, you’re no one when put next to them.

“Seriously, stop worrying. I’m not bothered.”

You’re mature about it, you convince both Jungkook and yourself, as you try to ignore how the majority of everyone’s eyes only flit into two directions: Jimin’s car on the screen, and Seri by the lower box who’s lost all composure and is cheering for him, for your boyfriend, just like old times.

Unlike Seri, your hands are clenched together, not because you’re praying for Jimin’s win, but because if you were to untangle them, it would immediately register to you that they’re cold upon foreseeing Jimin’s win.

Jimin will win and yet his gaze, like everyone else’s, will go to Seri.

“It makes sense, Jungkook. They’ve been there for each other since the start,” you nod tightly, the feeling of having to explain to your friend amidst all the uproarious cheers and whistles that you’re absolutely not hurt at all being the one to crush your chest.

When Jimin makes it up to the podium, you know not to expect anything. You know by now that you’re not going to get any cheesy remarks from any of the audience, nor will you ever get the cameras pan to your own teary eyes when it comes to Jimin’s win.

When Jimin wins, when he gets the trophy, the world automatically stops for only him and his first love alone.

night, day, noon series — wherein yoongi cheats on you.

Yoongi tore his ACL playing hockey.

It’s his fall from grace as what many of his fans have assumed, seeing to it that his injury could not have come at a worse time; in between the pressure put on his shoulders as the star player to cinch his team’s three-peat win and his own frustrations with himself, Yoongi had reached a breaking point when his injury benched him for the rest of the season.

Your husband’s breaking point is unlike any of his teammates’, even if his injury is nearing the top of the pyramid when it comes to being the worst. Yoongi didn’t turn to any vice nor did he succumb to any of his frustration whenever the realization washes over him that instead of being on the ice, he’s doing everything but.

Yoongi’s breaking point is barely there — it’s a summit the two of you have already conquered but when you do look down, you’re uncertain of where exactly you’re looking at.

Some days, he detests his physical rehabilitation.

Nowadays, Yoongi actually can’t wait to get out of the house just to put himself through a session of what he used to describe as beyond annoying.

There’s not one part of you that doesn’t ache in seeing Yoongi be unlike himself, even if he shows to you that he could be independent without your help.

There’s a cloying and tedious aftertaste to your mouth whenever you can’t help your husband the way he wants you to. He himself can’t tell where he wants you to stand exactly, but even with that knowledge, the lingering fear of inadequacy stays in your gut.

The fear that you won’t ever be enough for Yoongi sinks when he holds your hand to walk, but it floats right back to the surface when you look down on your intertwined fingers to realize that you’re holding onto him tighter than he holds onto you; just as if you’re the one who’s dependent on being needed rather than being the one who yearns.

The ache that you’re not what Yoongi needs is a perpetually grinding iteration in your mind — it preys on you the longer that you delude yourself into thinking that the boost in Yoongi’s step is nothing less than his own motivation to recover, and nothing more than him taking your support however he sees fit.

The realization that you’re what Yoongi has but doesn’t need– doesn’t want, even— comes to you as an image that you can never forget.

You find them in the evening, in the middle of the ice where Yoongi struggles to support himself, yet he finds solace in Dahye that it’s enough for him to relax in his physical therapist’s hold.

His legs barely tremble yet he holds onto Dahye like she’s the world; like her hands are far more deserving than yours to be held because Yoongi’s grip tightens on her without any prompting.

Yoongi, your husband, holds her far too tightly — far too closely and intimately, you’d mistaken her for yourself if not for the blaring absence of a wedding ring on her finger.

His legs barely tremble and his shoulders barely shiver, yet he holds onto Dahye as if she’s what you once were to him — as if she’s this immovable object whom he loves beyond life, enough for him to consider retiring early out of the fear he’ll get an injury he can’t reverse.

You’re not Dahye, and even so, you come to realize as you stand by the nosebleeds that you’re the one at a disadvantage. Not her.

Yoongi holds her far too tightly, and if not for the tears that blur your vision, you’d think then that his only logical follow-up is to kiss her.

You’re immovable now, just not in the same way you once were to Yoongi.

It’s seven in the evening when you watch your husband make out with another woman in the middle of the rink, right before he drags her out to the locker room to fuck her.

breadwinner series — wherein taehyung’s a breadwinner who always thinks you’re pitying him, so he tells you off in the dark.. in the surprise party you threw for him.. for everyone to hear.

Taehyung has never not been hardworking.

You knew from the first day of your freshman year that Taehyung doesn’t have any excuses when it comes to working. He was already on his junior year riding on an athletic scholarship, and even his free ride hadn’t been enough to stop him from working as a librarian in the library (to you, it was a free nap space with charging outlets) that you only loitered at.

You knew it one semester into your freshman year, because as soon as you boldly asked Taehyung out during his shift after having spent months chatting him up and leaving snacks for him, his first question was what time your date would be so he could check if he’ll be able to go to his bartender job after.

You knew Taehyung, your beloved boyfriend, was beyond hardworking when you took him out to meet your parents and he mowed the grass in your childhood home’s lawn out of muscle memory, when you had only left him alone for twenty minutes.

You knew in your heart (more than anyone else in the world could) that he wouldn’t stop at anything in order to put something, if not everything, on the table for his family, because he hasn’t even thought about marriage yet.

“I don’t want to hold it against him, Soomin,” you sigh, smiling sincerely to Taehyung’s little sister who’s persistenly on both his and your heels because she wants you to get married already, claiming that she wants to be a full-time aunt even if she’s only in high school. “You know how it is. I-… I’m not in your situation, but I know where your brother’s coming from,” you nod, pondering over the complex, hardworking case that your boyfriend is.

Taehyung can’t focus on the family he’ll have with you until he decides that he can prioritize his own over the family he came from. You don’t mean to sound selfish nor possessive at all — you’re simply trying to be realistic.

You can’t entertain the thought of tying the knot with Taehyung, all while he’s thinking of putting more than half of his salary into his parents’ accounts instead of your future kids (whom you can’t even picture). You can’t entertain the thought of building a house with him, only for the rooms to be occupied solely by his family members over the thought that he’ll suddenly wake up one day and decide that he’s sick of getting his childhood home fixed.

You love your boyfriend’s family. They aren't perfect, but neither is anyone else’s. You still kiss his mother on the cheek because she’s one of the kindest women in the world to you, even if she had entrusted her debts to her eldest child. You still banter around with his dad because he’s funny and charming, even if he had retired early and gave his family barely anything to live with.

Taehyung loves his parents, and as do you.

Your boyfriend is a breadwinner, and you aren’t.

Love is complicated and hectic for Taehyung, while it only remains complicated and somehow easy for you.

Getting your boyfriend out of the house during his “free time” (read: in between his multiple jobs) had been a herculean task as it is. You had spent the last few months getting everything in order just to give him a surprise early birthday party; for him to finally take a break and live only as himself and not as a provider — you endured the countless minutes of him groaning whilst driving him.

You endured Taehyung turning down countless dates and invites to be with you over the years, if enduring meant you being upset in the morning and sucking it up in the afternoon because you know that he has no choice but to, especially since he’s ingrained within himself.

You endured your boyfriend barely participating in your past birthdays, if not foregoing them altogether, because he was busy.

What you aren’t sure you can endure now is Taehyung turning your surprise for him around, completely disregarding all your hard work even if he doesn’t know the entire situation.

What you aren’t sure you can endure is Taehyung snapping at you in the dark, even if you’re holding him tightly and just a mere few steps away from being welcomed by his closest family and friends.

“What stupid thing is this now, Y/N?” he grumbles, taking off his blindfold yet he still can’t see anything besides a vague outline of you looking at him with surprised eyes.

“It’s not stupid, Tae,” you stutter, trying to regain his hand back into your palm to pull him closer to the hall yet he doesn’t budge at all.

Taehyung stays rooted in where he stands, above you and beneath you all at once.

“It isn’t?” he scoffs, running a hand through his hair as he’s overwhelmed with darkness. “It’s not just another gimmick that you make yourself go through because you don’t have anything better to do?”

big picture — wherein ob-gyne namjoon, your boyfriend, who wants to be a dad but not a husband… ends up meeting your ex who’s willing to be both.

Namjoon and marriage don’t fit into the same sentence.

They don’t fit into the same sentence (not even in the same paragraph), because whenever one of his nosy aunts or just one of his four sisters-in-law bring it up, Namjoon’s suddenly worked up the appetite to eat the meatloaf no one has even touched on the table.

He doesn’t exactly hate people who are married, even if his face for finding a fork in the kitchen is just the same whenever he hears a friend tell him, unprompted, about their marital issues. Namjoon’s committal, and you know it because he’s still with you despite everything: from the age gap between the two of you that made a lot of his friends think (they’re used to Namjoon being the older one in a relationship), to all of your family members asking when you’re going to tie the knot (to which he gives answers that they want to hear), and even to his patients pointing at your picture in his desk, asking if he delivered your non-existent children into the world.

Namjoon doesn’t hate being committed to you. He doesn’t hate waking up and coming home to you everyday, and neither does he hate picturing a family with you.

Hate’s a strong word, especially coming from the likes of Namjoon whom you’ve always known as as a gentleman — you just didn’t expect that hate, or whatever the alternative for it is in Namjoon’s book, coming from him when it comes to the concept of being wedded to you.

You never questioned his affinity for it, or lack thereof, because throughout all the teasing through the years coming from all sides, Namjoon has not once ever turned down marriage. He’s nodded his head about it when your mom jokingly brought it up during their first meeting. He giggled when your co-worker kept telling him what kind of cut you wanted. He even bowed his head and said of course when his grandfather told him to elope with you (albeit in a very old-fashioned, mostly problematic way) in the nearest city hall.

You never questioned that Namjoon detests the possibility of being married to you because he never gave you the reason to think otherwise.

“But Namjoon, I’m older than you,” you exasperate, sitting across him in the same seat that his patients would for consultations.

You didn’t expect to even have this life-altering conversation with him in his office of all the places, the topic suddenly being breached when his assistant teased him by bringing you along and calling you as his missus, to which he audibly winced at.

Namjoon himself is surprised that it would be brought up now; he didn’t even think once that his distaste for marriage would obviously spring up after all his flawless instances of tamping it down, all in the hopes that his opinion would change.

“Not by a lot,” he corrects. “You know that’s never been a problem for me.”

“It’s a problem for me when you’re telling me now that you want a kid with me but you don’t want to give me a ring,” you sigh, looking down on your feet instead of letting your eyes wander around the room because if you do, all the charts on his walls would just provoke you. “What— what do you expect to come out of this, Joon? That I’ll be 40 taking our kid to middle school and I still refer to you as my boyfriend?”

“People call them partners nowadays to sound more mature.”

“Is this funny to you?” you spit, the light smile on his face immediately being wiped once he registers the seriousness in your tone.

“It’s not, I’m sorry, but come on! Why are you losing your mind over something so trivial? If we do get pregnant, we would still be together whether or not we’re married! It’s not much of a difference,” he reasons, running a hand through his hair.

Namjoon, oddly enough, doesn’t feel nervous to have this talk with you. He thought he would be more devastated bringing it up, yet now, he’s more nervous about your reaction towards your present relationship than he is about your future.

“If it’s not much of a difference, then why won’t you marry me?”

The way your boyfriend’s, not your husband’s, face falls is something you won’t ever forget.

You don’t think you’d ever forget the way Namjoon’s lips part, not because you’re internally celebrating what you thought would be a gotcha moment that would change his mind once and for all, but because he looks defeated.

He looks defeated even thinking about the possibility of a lifetime with you — preferably one wherein you share a family, a home, and even a certificate.

“Do you know how many pregnant women I see on a daily basis who are stuck in marriages they didn’t want?” Namjoon sighs, eyes screwing shut as he feels a wave of nausea all of a sudden. “Y/N, I can’t even keep track of all the times their husbands didn’t show up when their wives need them. I had-.. I still have to watch all these women name their babies by their own. I’ve been asked to be a godfather so many times so their kid could have a father figure. I— I’ve delivered more babies than I’ve ever seen husbands in the delivery room.”

“But you’re going to be a great dad,” you argue, hand sliding across the table to hold his hand loosely. “You’re going to be a great husband.”

“We don’t know that,” he chuckles humorlessly, briefly tightening his grip on yours before he detaches his hand.

Namjoon doesn’t feel guilty doing so. Instead, he feels like his chest is heavy with the truth yet not with the pain that comes with coming to realize that the two of you don’t see eye to eye.

You tilt your head in confusion, licking your lips as you try to catch up. “What do you mean we don’t know that? If you want to be one, then-…”

“I don’t mean it like that,” he hollows his cheeks, throwing his head back into his seat as he sounds out the words he’s always thought but never said. “I don’t know if I’m going to be a good husband because I don’t want to be married.”

to the touch — wherein hoseok’s almost The Perfect Boyfriend whose love language is physical touch towards you.. and everyone else.

Amongst your family and friends, even including acquaintances who’ve only met you once, your boyfriend Hoseok has the reputation of being the best partner one could ever ask for.

For instance, your parents commend how he doesn’t let you lift a finger when it comes to helping out, even going so far as to give all your tasks to Hoseok that have always been yours. It was a little different seeing Hoseok make the holiday knit that would go to your grandparents (if not endearing and just a little bit unsettling with how good he instantly is), but you’re awed over his flawless integration to your family.

Your friends can never shut up about Hoseok, whether or not they’re single by the time they see him on your side. He’s too kind to the point he even invites them along for what’s supposed to be your dates, because his heart goes out for your “single” friends (you swear most of them aren’t) who don’t have anyone to keep them warm at night.

You’ve heard time and time again that your boyfriend’s a keeper, and you believe it every time. You’re accustomed to Hoseok being the best partner you’ve had and will ever do in your lifetime. To this day, there’s instances where he can still take you by surprise despite being with you for years.

It’s great being with someone who’s as attentive and loving as him— almost a little too great, that you barely glaze over the fact that you and Hoseok don’t have any hitches in your relationship.

You only ever got to realize it during a massive party that your friend threw, seeing almost every face you’ve ever known growing up. You didn’t question it at first (unlike how people do when they find out you and your boyfriend have never had a conflict), seeing family and friends alike, enjoying their time together as per usual.

You don’t question the liveliness of the event, nor your boyfriend’s constant disappearance from your side.

You don’t question how you’re seemingly alone in a huge party, nor about how you keep hearing of your esteemed boyfriend all throughout the space despite not seeing him for majority of the event.

You don’t question it until Jimin, your friend from college, suddenly popped up.

There’s no customaries he shares with you; there’s no hi or hello, nor is there the default arm touch one gets from someone they haven’t talked to for a while. Jimin just settles to your side with a drink in his hand, eyebrows furrowed and lips pouted, and it’s as if his presence beside you has always been normal.

“Didn’t peg you to be an open relationship type,” he says out of nowhere, taking a relaxed sip of his drink after the bomb he drops on you.

“What?!” you exclaim almost instantly, settling into the immediately warm and almost scalding nature of Jimin; you don’t even realize that he doesn’t have to graze his elbow with yours to learn about his presence.

“You and Hoseok are still together, right?” Jimin laughs boyishly as he licks his lips, snorting at the startled look on your face as he gestures to your missing boyfriend with his head. “Why does he keep rubbing on your friends like he’s expecting a genie to come out then?”

“He’s not rubbing on them,” you immediately defend Hoseok even before your eyes could follow Jimin’s line of sight, the supposed roll of your eyes for his ridiculous words getting cut short when your gaze settles without the cloud of hypocrisy. Suddenly, your eyes narrow. “He’s not-…”

You can’t finish your sentence. You can’t finish defending your boyfriend to a friend who knows more of you than he knows of your relationship, because you’re unsure if you can.

With the way Hoseok is squeezed next to your friends in a gigantic couch, even if it’s only the four of them that occupies the spacious twenty-seater row, you’re not sure if you could uphold his honor.

“See?” Jimin snorts. “I thought he wouldn’t get worse than how he was at college, but clearly, I’m wrong.”

“What do you mean?” you ask with a hesitant chuckle, heart quickening at your chest as you’re barely able to tear your eyes away from your boyfriend whose eyes wander to everywhere and everyone but you.

“Y/N, I think you know what I mean,” Jimin rolls his eyes. “You never noticed it? That’s impossible,” he scoffs. “You don’t know how Hoseok’s so touchy? How he’s just so… comfortable getting his paws on everyone?”

“… I know he’s a touchy person,” you murmur, looking down on your hands as you feel the familiar churn of your stomach.

stationary — wherein single dad jin doesn’t want to marry you, even if his daughter loves you.

It's routine for you to be mistaken as Hwayoung's mom.

It’s clockwork for you to get second and third glances whenever she’s with you, the myriad of compliments she gets (and you, by extension, if you just squint your eyes enough for you to see the resemblance that strangers talk about) making your heart flutter in response.

Hwayoung’s a bright and pretty beacon of light, much like her dad, and you never fail to mention it every time. There’s still some shame left in you whenever you get the comment that she takes up after you, and whenever you segue Jin in somehow, neither you, his daughter, nor the stranger in question flinch.

It’s routine for the toddler to sit on your lap and wait for her grapes to be cut into tiny pieces. It’s embedded in your (almost) everyday life for her to hang out with you, literal baggage and all as she knows by now that mimi (Hwayoung’s designated nickname for you, courtesy of her dad, that’s just a couple syllables away from mama) is a flight attendant, and so is appa.

It’s a given that both yours and Jin’s schedules revolve around Hwayoung perfectly, and nothing less, so that atleast one of you is with her at all times. It’s a convenient, wholesome schedule that parents would take months to craft — it’s a given for Jin and an option for you, to which you didn’t even hesitate in making.

Somewhere along the late nights with Hwayoung wherein the both of you stay up for Jin, and maybe sometime along the rare trips wherein either you or your boyfriend had to drop Hwayoung off to his family because of scheduling mishaps — you had grown too complacent of the routine.

You had grown too complacent of your certainty in their life that you thought had always been promised.

In the nth instance of you being mistaken for Hwayoung’s mother during your grocery trips and the first instance that Jin had the night shift, it had been in bright daylight when the two of you didn’t intersect at all. You were ready to laugh the compliment off; ready to wave the stranger off that Hwayoung takes after her dad, but instead, Jin takes the lead this time with no hesitance — not even a single ounce of fluster as he shuts down the assumption.

“Oh no, no. She's not the mother. She's just my girlfriend," he laughs, pushing the cart just as quickly as it had stalled by the fruit aisle, much to confusion on the elderly woman's face who was left in his dust.

There had been no malice at all on the lady’s tone, and yet, your boyfriend speaks as if a chord has been struck and he’s working overtime to rectify such a godawful mistake.

"You're awfully defensive," you mutter, your tone low not because Hwayoung’s in your arms (she sleeps like a rock), but because if you point it out any louder, you’d be able to hear yourself convincing your mind that Jin was just having a misstep.

"Just correcting her," Jin hums, eyes lazily scrolling through his phone with his shoulders hunched on the cart handle, the quirk of his lips leading to a sigh that he does not want to talk to you at all.

"I don't mind, y'know? Being mistaken to be your wife," you continue, pausing behind him as he scans through his list. “It doesn't even sound like a mistake to me."

"Oh.”

since posting the first sneak peek, i now have 40+ c*ntroversial fics n counting :D i felt rlly happy to be able to post some of them from the series this holiday season for free members!! if u want to get the occasional full fic, you can sign up to be a free member!! but pls do take note that when i do post one, it'll only be up for a limited time :-)

if you wanna know the run-down of all the fics i have for patreon (running count is 200+ atm), u can check here and here :D

if u want to read the entirety of these now n much more + exclusive fics + early access to general fics, you can subscribe to my patreon 🫂🤍

#now the most prized pc... WHERE .#sneak peek

18 notes · View notes

depressedbagpipe · 2 years ago

Text

Ka-Chaow (Charles Leclerc x female!reader)

Chapter three

Words: 4024 Warnings: french cursing?, cringey dialogue, reader being a main character, charles being charles, ferrari being ferrari, mentions of wine, me not understanding how life works in Monaco. A/N: thank you mel for translating the french bits for me, i owe you a coffee. I'm not 100% happy with how this turned out but i think i like the way I'm slowly giving info about the reader. also, life has been hectic lately but I'm slowly back on track. as an apology here you go, a cute Charles gif Series Taglist: @heavengirls111, @roseamongthorns13, @mishaandthebrits, @charlesswife, @silscintilla

Series Masterlist Previous chapter

Monte-Carlo, January 8th, 2023

I had only ever moved twice before in my life. The first time was from a dirty shoe box on the lowliest side of town to a comfortable house in Hammersmith. Namely, I was only two years old when that happened and I don’t recall much, but I know every single detail of everything that happened as it was always conveniently brought up every Christmas dinner; when the entire family would get together and unironically thank God for every opportunity given to them.

The second time happened after I graduated and got my job at Ink’n’Paper. Mr. Williamson needed someone nearby to manage his appointments, and I had been perfect for the job, apparently, so it made sense that I finally moved out of my parent's house and got my own place in the city, closer to the office I lost part of my sanity at every day.

I skipped moving for college, thankfully, so I didn’t have to deal with thousands of other overbearing parents lecturing their kids on how to be responsible 18-year-olds. That also meant I got the lecture later in life, but I still appreciated the tips, like doing laundry at night when light was cheaper, and pre-planning meals for the week –which I now appreciated immensely, due to the hectic schedule my job worked on.

And now, I found myself finally moving the last of my boxes up the stairs to my new Monaco apartment, with tired arms and knees from bending so many times. My back was also strained, but it was nothing a good night's sleep couldn’t fix.

I always prided myself on being an intelligent and strong independent woman, but as soon as the movers left, I realized, just maybe, I could’ve asked for more help. I felt bad after seeing them struggle with the dishwasher and thought I would save them some effort by doing the rest myself, but after the first few boxes, I realized I was doomed. But honestly, what newly-renovated apartment doesn’t come with a dishwasher?

It was also a bit eerie, how I didn’t even see any of my neighbors. I knew the building was entirely new, but I thought maybe a few other residents would have already complained about my grunts in effort and the constant going up and down the stairs. Because, obviously, the elevator didn’t work just yet. Neither did the pool on the roof, or the gym.

‘We need a few more final touches, but all the apartments are ready to be lived in,’ the realtor had explained after the short tour of the building since half of it was still missing.

‘And do you know when it’ll finally be open?’ I had asked, out of pure curiosity. I certainly wasn’t planning on running on a treadmill if I could help it.

The man had only shrugged his shoulders and bid me farewell shortly after, leaving me alone in the middle of the reception hall to wait for the movers to bring my things. That had been over four hours ago, and now I was desperate for food and sleep. Instead, I was struggling with my very last cardboard box full of books, blindingly going up the stairs through a very restricted field of vision.

It was just my luck that, right on my floor, only after walking two steps into the hall to my apartment, I crashed into someone.

Under any other circumstance, I would’ve found the irony and cliché of the situation; accidentally colliding into someone, papers spilling everywhere, getting down to retrieve them and brushing fingers and meeting gazes. Maybe a smile or two. That’s actually how I met Alec. Both of us were running late, him to a band rehearsal, and me to my first interview at Ink’n’Paper. My résumé got mixed with his songs and an hour later we found ourselves sitting at a cute café, sharing stories over warm coffee slowly falling in love with each other. Only this time, I was tired, sore, and buried under a nearly-broken box filled to the brim with books, with some of them unceremoniously lying on the floor half-opened.

The impact with the floor knocked the wind out of my lungs, and for a split second, I debated whether I should just lay there for the rest of my life. But a familiar accent decided otherwise.

‘Oh, mon dieu, je suis desolé, ca va?’ (Oh my god, I’m so sorry, are you alright?)

For a second I froze. Surely, the universe was playing some sick joke on me. I groaned as I stood up, barely noticing the two hands helping me up. I dusted my pants as I looked down at the spilled mess, internally groaning at the thought of having to bend down to pick everything up again.

‘Je vous ai fais mal?’ (Did I hurt you?) the man repeated, and it was only then that I mustered the courage to look up at him. And it suddenly dawned on me that I was standing right before Charles Leclerc.

I shook my head, not knowing how to respond. It was the second time the young driver stood in front of me, but just like the first one, I didn’t know what to do with myself.

‘Sorry, uh, I don’t speak French,’ I stammered. I was trying hard not to tremble, even though I could always blame the pain from the fall for it.

‘Oh, it’s alright. Are you okay, though? Did I hurt you? That was a nasty fall,’ he switched to English as he eyed me up and down, probably checking for any injury.

I tried hard not to blush or giggle, but I couldn’t ignore the fact that my biggest crush was casually there, in my apartment building, and was making sure I was alright.

‘Yeah, yeah, I’m okay. Thank you, though,’ I replied.

He then seemed to notice the box and books on the floor. ‘Here, let me,’ he said before bending down and grabbing the heavy box into his hands.

My eyes scanned over his hands, noticing the way his fingers flexed and strongly grabbed the sides. Again, under any other circumstance, I would’ve found the irony of the situation, but my nerves were making me shake slightly and I wasn’t too proud of that.

I too bent down, taking the scattered books in my arms and not caring about their state anymore. I only wanted to have an excuse to stop my hands from shaking and to look anywhere but at him.

‘It’s okay, really, I can handle these,’ I said, completely embarrassed. Seconds before I had been flat on the ground in front of him. I really just wanted to dig a hole and bury myself in it for the rest of my life after that.

He smiled briefly at me, but his hands remained on the box, effortlessly grabbing it under one of his arms before extending a hand towards me. I stared at it, noticing the rings on his fingers and his expensive watch. Without thinking I took it, and I tried not to dwell too much on the warmth of his skin and his firm grip on mine as he helped me up.

‘Wait, have we met? Your face seems familiar,’ he scrunched his eyebrows while he looked at me.

I was still appalled at the fact that I was talking to him, but I slowly nodded my head, remembering our brief interaction back at the Fiorano track.

‘Yeah, um, we met at Maranello? I’m Mr. Williamson’s assistant,’ I explained, but Charles only seemed more confused. ‘The guy that’s supposed to write the book about Ferrari,’ I added.

His eyes widened in recognition, and my heart beat loudly as I let a breath out.

‘Oh, right! We were introduced at the track! Well, it’s lovely to see you again!’ he smiled, shaking my hand with a short laugh.

I hadn’t even noticed that he was still holding me, and while I would normally be too socially awkward to keep the contact up, I didn’t mind his one bit. But eventually, I let go, because I could feel the grip of the books slipping with every passing second.

‘Yeah, you too! What are you doing here? I mean, do you know anybody in the building?’ I asked before I could stop myself. Surely, the man had more important stuff to do.

To my surprise, he shook his head. ‘Nope. I live here.’

The equivalent of breaking glass was the only sound that went through my brain.

‘Wait, really?’ I asked him.

He nodded. ‘Yeah, I came back a few days ago. And I’m guessing you just moved here too,’ he motioned to the box still under his arm.

I nodded too. ‘Yeah. Today,’ I dumbly answered, feeling the strain in my arms under the weight of the books.

He definitely noticed, because he jumped in his place and profusely apologized. ‘Merde, let me help you with that,’ he looked at the box and then back at me again. ‘So, um, which way to your apartment? In the least creepy way possible?’ he chuckled in embarrassment, yet I found it incredibly cute. (Shit)

I couldn’t help but laugh too. ‘5A.’

His mouth opened in clear surprise. ‘Hey, I’m 5B!’ his eyes almost disappeared when he smiled.

His smirk was contagious, that much I already knew. I would be lying if I said I had never watched his post-race interviews or any other promotion for his team whatsoever, but I obviously couldn’t straight up tell him that. So finding out that not only we were neighbors, but there would only be a rather thin wall separating us, was enough to send me into cardiac arrest.

‘Wow, that sure is a coincidence!’ I dumbly added.

For someone known to have a response for anything, I suddenly ran out of words.

But either he didn’t notice, or he didn’t care.

‘Well, better take these to their new home. I don’t think this floor has been cleaned in a while,’ he chuckled, walking back into the hall and in my apartment’s direction.

I shrugged my shoulders, following after him, thinking all of it had to be some weird dream I was having because there was absolutely no way in hell Charles Leclerc was casually waiting by my door holding a box full of my shit and helping me move into my new apartment in Monaco.

‘Oh, the door’s open,’ I said while I walked past him and inside the flat. With a tilt of my head, I beckoned Charles inside too.

The look he sent me was hilarious. ‘It’s been open this whole time?’

I winced as I put the books down on the kitchen island, which overlooked the wide living space. It was certainly bigger than my apartment in London, but the clean-white walls and lack of furniture made it look like a mansion compared to the other residence, full of books and half-burnt candles.

‘I mean, I was going up and down with boxes and I didn’t want to have to open and close the door every time,’ I said, rubbing my sore arms.

He left the box on the island as well, shyly looking around the pretty empty apartment.

‘Well, nice place you got here,’ he chuckled at his joke. I laughed too, but mine was rather a combination of nerves, disbelief, and sheer anxiety. ‘Sorry, I… I don’t think I remember your name, I apologize for that.’

I shook my head quickly as I answered, saying it was totally fine. Just the fact that he vaguely remembered my face was already a huge accomplishment on his part, knowing that he met new people every single day.

‘Thank you for helping me, by the way,’ I told him, gesturing to the books. I laced my hands behind my back, frantically spinning the ring on my finger in an anxious tic I had developed throughout the years.

He shook his head with a grin, waving his hand in the air. ‘I’m happy to help. Honestly, I’ve been quite jet-lagged lately and I’ve been sleeping all day, but had I been up, I would’ve helped you through it.’

I felt the heat on my cheeks, but I couldn’t tear my eyes away from him. ‘It’s fine, really. You know, I even thought I was the only one here. I saw nobody, literally. And if somebody saw me then they didn’t say anything,’ I frowned at the thought.

He grinned at me again, and it felt weird to see those dimples in real life. ‘I don’t think there are that many people living here yet, to be honest. I still haven’t seen anybody else besides you. Kinda creepy, too.’

I laughed, feeling somewhat relaxed now at the thought of living so close to him. Not as a fan, per se, but as a walking person I could turn to in case I needed salt.

‘I would treat you to some tea but I have absolutely nothing to eat right now. I haven’t gone grocery shopping yet. And I have no dishes or cutlery, either. I do have a dishwasher, though,’ I said, wanting to repay the favor somehow, although everything that came from my mouth felt worse than the previous one.

‘You have a dishwasher?’ he gaped at me.

I nodded. ‘Got it installed this morning. I’m never washing dirty dishes with my hands again.’

He chuckled again before looking back at the door, which had stayed open. It wasn’t like there was anyone that could come in, though. ‘Well, maybe this sounds weird, but, if you’d like, we could have dinner together? As in a… housewarming party?’ Charles offered.

I tried hard not to blush at his request, and I definitely felt the strain in my lips trying to control the grin. ‘Shouldn’t I be the one throwing the party?’ I lifted an eyebrow at him.

He nodded. ‘Yeah. But it’s seven in the afternoon and all the markets are closed,’ he pointed out after checking the hour on his watch.

I gaped at him. ‘Is it that late, really?’ I asked, grabbing my phone and checking the time too, but to my dismay, Charles was right. I had completely lost track of time.

‘Time flies when you’re having fun, eh?’ he tried to laugh it off, and I appreciated it.

‘Well, shit. Guess I’m not having breakfast tomorrow either,’ I joked, yet a pit of anxiety settled in my stomach. I was far too hungry for such disappointment.

‘You’re welcome for breakfast, too,’ Charles added quickly. I stared at him with a frown. ‘Again, if I had been awake, I would’ve helped you, and you wouldn’t be stuck now without food until tomorrow morning.’

My heart ached slightly at his beaten expression. ‘It’s not your fault, Charles. You don’t have to feel bad about it. I mean, you literally have no responsibility over anything.’

He took a few seconds, eyeing me. His eyes then moved to the side, checking the empty kitchen, and the boxes piled right at the center of the living space, and he frowned again.

‘I still want you over. I’m not the greatest chef, but I can make some nice pasta. And I think I’ve got some tea left, for the morning. Not like I’m asking you to spend the night, you know, that’d be weird, but like, if you wanna come over for a quick snack… Although I wake up really early to train, you know… you’re welcome to,’ he rambled.

I stared at him for a whole minute, registering his words. Now more than ever, it really felt like a dream. And despite knowing better than going to a random stranger’s apartment for free dinner on the sole basis of human kindness, I nodded.

‘Alright, I’m not gonna say “no” to pasta. And if you’re trying to murder me, know that my mum is a lawyer. And a really good one at that. And she knows where I am, so,’ I said, pointing a finger menacingly at him with squint eyes. Might as well throw some spice in it.

He smiled at me, again with those dimples showing, holding his palms up in surrender. ‘Great! And I’m not trying to murder you. Then uh, why don’t you come by in like two hours? So I can prepare things and clean around?’

‘Sure!’ I smirked.

‘Alright, then, uh, I’ll see you later!’ he grinned.

‘Great!’

‘Okay, um, ciao!’ Charles said with a final wave. He walked out of the apartment, and I caught his eye as he closed the door, with the ghost of a smirk decorating his lips. (Bye!)

—

‘And you just moved here, then? I asked him.

‘Yeah. Somehow fans found my old address and it wasn’t safe for me anymore. Besides, my neighbors “invited” me to leave so… apparently I yell too much at the simulator,’ he confessed, making me chuckle.

‘I’m sorry about that,’ I said with a grimace, remembering his Instagram posts.

‘Don’t be. I mean I knew stuff like this would happen, just not to me,’ he chuckled.

I stared at him in disbelief. Surely, had to be joking, right?

‘Life works in mysterious ways, I guess,’ I added, taking a sip of the expensive wine he had opened for us at the beginning of the dinner.

‘So, how come you moved to Monaco, then?’ Charles asked before taking a big bite of his pasta.

I swallowed before responding. I still felt quite nervous, trying to look and act decently before him. I had never been one to talk about myself that openly, and it sucked to think our conversation resembled that of a date, even though it wasn’t.

‘Well, as I said, I work at this publishing house as Mr. Stephen Williamson’s assistant, which, for the record, is a pretty big name in the industry. And last November he got this deal to write about Ferrari, so… here I am,’ I tried to explain.

I didn’t want to bore him with the details, but if anything, it only made him even more curious.

‘How do you go from working as an assistant to living in Monaco?’ he asked.

I sighed. ‘I don’t even know. We flew to Italy last month to sign the deal and stuff, and apparently, my boss wanted me to move here to oversee the writing process.’

‘But he’s in London.’

‘Yeah.’

‘I don’t understand.’

‘Me neither.’

He laughed. ‘Well, I’m glad we’re both on the same page.’

‘Right?’ I chuckled too. ‘No, but seriously, I know he’s got other stuff to work on and he thought it better that I was the one to come here in his place,’ I continued, still waiting for further instruction from both Mr. Williamson and Mr. Vigna’s part to proceed to the next phase. ‘Let’s just say he’s not… in the best state right now…’ I bit my lip, not wanting to reveal too much, for Mr. Williamson’s sake. ‘So, effectively, I’m the one in charge of getting all the data, interviews, experiences…’

‘And Monaco is the best place for that,’ Charles finished for me as he also finished his pasta.

I nodded, taking another bite. He was a fast eater, for sure.

‘Exactly. Mr. Vigna said they’re opening a new office here and many workers are commuting so… It shouldn’t be hard,’ I added after taking a deep breath.

‘Wow, and you just left? What about your family? Friends? Boyfriend?’ Charles asked, with his eyes fixed on my face.

I choked on my pasta. He patted my back repeatedly as I brought the wine glass to my lips, desperate to calm my aching throat.

‘Sorry, no, no boyfriend,’ I coughed again. I swore his eyes glistened ever so slightly. ‘And my people understand. It’s not going to be forever, you know? Just a few months. And I’m constantly on the phone with them, and I’ll travel back and forth. But it’s easier when half the grid is already here,’ I answered once I was calm enough.

He nodded. ‘You’re right. So I’m guessing I’ll see you around the paddock this year.’

‘Yeah, you definitely will. I mean, according to Mr. Williamson, until he’s able to commit full-time to this project, I am to become Ferrari’s own shadow. A fly on the wall. Any conversation? I’ll be there listening,’ I recalled the conversation with my boss, thinking he had been a bit too dramatic at first, only to later realize he was being completely honest.

He had made a name for himself thanks to his decent spying qualities, which he favorably used in his work to portray the most realistic picture of whatever matter was at hand. Anyone with a brain knew that required skill and time, and the fact that he had entrusted me with it spoke volumes of his faith in me. Or of his inebriation.

Charles whistled. ‘That’s a huge responsibility.’

‘Well, I’m not Spider-Man, but yeah, it’s a huge power too.’

He grinned. ‘If you need any help, you know where to find me. You know, it was always my dream to drive for Ferrari.’

‘I’m sorry.’

He laughed. ‘Well, last year certainly didn’t go as I expected, but I’m excited for this season.’

Charles’ eyes shone whenever he spoke about driving. I hadn’t spent much time with him yet, but it was easy to share his enthusiasm for the sport, even after going in tangents about laps, sectors, and front and rear wings. He spoke with the excitement of a little kid, and at times, it was hard to believe he was a twenty-five-year-old man.

‘But I don’t want to bore you with it, sorry,’ he caught himself after a while, but I shook my head.

‘Not at all. I’m a fan of the sport too, you know,’ I said, suddenly feeling embarrassed and shy.

But his face didn’t seem to mind it one bit. His eyes, in fact, widened. ‘Really?’

I nodded. ‘Yeah. My dad is a huge motorsport fan so he made sure his only daughter followed his steps.’

‘May I ask which team are you supporting?’ he asked.

‘Don’t want to inflate your ego even more, but Ferrari,’ I chuckled.

He grinned again. ‘Red is the best color, after all.’

‘It’s all about the Italian in us.’

‘Certainly.’

Our dinner was long finished, but we both stayed at the table, drinking wine and sharing stories for the rest of the night.

It was easy to talk to him, contrary to popular belief. When I had knocked on his door a few hours before, I had been a mess of anxiety and nerves. I had tried so hard to come up with the best possible outfit right after exiting the shower, wanting to look good and put-together, yet not too formal. I had rehearsed over and over how to say hello, how to compliment his food, and how to thank him again for the immense favor he was doing me, but all that evaporated as soon as he opened the door. Pleasantries were exchanged, some more apologies as well, and before I could even react, we were already sitting down, enjoying some warm meal over good wine. Charles turned out to be excellent company too, and I could only thank the universe for having met him on my first night in Monaco. I truly felt a bit less alone, all thanks to him.

I had been scared about moving to a different country by myself, away from my parents and my friends. I hadn’t even had time to sit down and think about it. Twenty-four hours ago I was packing my bags after the longest Christmas celebrations ever and now I was smiling and chuckling away with someone I was hoping to call a friend sometime soon. Even after getting in bed, tired, but happy, no tears came. I wasn’t scared anymore. For once, even after all the heartbreak and stress, I was excited for what was to come, despite not knowing what was in store for me. And I was ready to find out.

Next chapter

General Taglist: @angiewhoohooo, @azaleaniath, @mishaandthebrits, @celestialcharles

#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x female!reader #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x y/n #charles leclerc imagine #formula 1 #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 fic

187 notes · View notes

jeyusosqueen · 2 days ago

Text

Gif Credit: @81gb

Southern Charm (Jey Uso x OC)

Chapter 6: Commitment & Wedding Planning

Sara

Sara had already been planning out the wedding with Josh. They were settled on Hawaii. Looking at all the different islands as they were deciding between Oahu and Maui. “I’ve never been to Hawaii, this is a first for me. “ She said looking through stuff with Josh as he had been showing her some things. Josh smiled “I think Jon and Trin got married in Maui and it was beautiful. They could be a big help with this too, dont you think? “ Sara nodded in agreement “Yes, I agree. Have you-have you told your parents that we’re engaged? “ A nervous tone in her voice as Josh shook his head “Not yet. I figured we’d tell them when we go over there today. Hey they’re gonna be happy for us. “ He squeezed her hand and kissed her softly. Sara looked over to him “The hardest part is going to be telling my Dad. I want him to be there, thats my Dad, no matter what. “ Her voice began to crack

Jey

“Hey hey, I got you. “ Joshua took her in his arms as he rocked her as he kissed the top of her head making her look up at him by lifting her chin “Family is important to both of us. Thats what I love most about you. I want him to know man to man, that I will take the best care of you. Man to man, I want him to know how much I love his daughter and I’ll never let her go. You feel me, Uce? “ He pressed his forehead against hers and smiled “From one old man to another. “ He finally heard her laugh as he chuckled and grinned

Sara

“You old? You might be pushing 40 but you sure as hell ain’t old to me. 39 to my 31, my birthday in July, yours in August. I’ll be 32. Age ain’t nothing but a number to me, baby. “ They both laughed as she buried her face in his chest “At least my friends love you to death. Especially Meranda. She’s grown up watching wrestling like me and Lizzie. When I told her we were dating she’s like hell yeah girl, get you some. “ They both laughed again and Joshua smirked, Joshua said “Well you got me on lock, girl. “ She smiled at that as she wrapped her arms around him “Good because I dont want to leave…ever. “ She admired the ring on her finger “Our wedding should be a family affair. Yours and mine, even if it means just my friends but…I want everyone to be there. “ She said to him

Jey

“My family is yours now. I’m gonna make sure as hell my boys are there too. Even if I have to take Kecia to court about Jeyce. “ He said mumbling under his breath as he looked at her “Jaciyah is old enough to make his own choices. But Jeyce is still a boy. I dont want him to think I’m disrespecting his mother or that he comes from some fucked up family. “ He clenched his jaw “I want to be a good father, do right by my kids. “ He looked down at her as he cupped her cheeks in his hands “You’ve given me a chance to do that. Jeyniah and Saraya, my girls. “ He grinned as he then touched her stomach as he bent down to kiss her belly “Daddy loves you and he promises he’s gonna take care of his girls. Forever and always. “

Sara

“You dont think she will allow your son to come to your wedding? “ She asked gently. The matter with his ex was a sensitive one. Yet she also did hear that his ex wife admitted the marriage was open but she didnt quite understand the custody situation. That wasn’t really her business. But it bothered her the way his ex complained that Joshua was beneath himself. That he found himself some country girl. That made her jaw clench and more irritated than ever. “Fucking bitch. “ She thought to herself as she rubbed his shoulders. “I made sure no matter what I was there when my dad married my stepmother. She turned out to be the best choice for him, she’s a nurse, saved his life. “ She looked sad at the thought of sweet Jeyce missing out on the big day.

Takecia’s POV

“He moved on from me to that Southern girl? That girl’s daddy is all kinds of messed up and Joshua wants to invest his life in that? Nah fuck that. “ She thought to herself as she took it upon herself to spy upon Sara’s FB. Then she saw it the sonograms as her heart stopped “He’s really gone, is he? “ She hated herself for everything that happened between her and Joshua. Two kids, together since high school. “High school love doesn’t last forever. “ She saw her friends come and go with their relationships. Then she got a text message from one of her friends Leila as she sent her pictures she had found of Joshua and Sara with the caption “Girl, she has a ring on her finger. He’s gonna marry her. “ Takecia grimaced “Hell nah…” She texted Joshua “Why you gonna involve yourself with that? She got enough shit going on with her Dad. I could be better for you, I’ve changed. “

Jey

Getting the text from Kecia as he grimaced. “Leave me the fuck alone, Kecia! I dont need your ass anymore. You’ve disrespected me enough. It’s over between us! “ He called her up “This is your final warning or else I’m going to file a police report on your ass for harassment, get a restraining order. Are we fucking clear? “ His voice full of venom as he blocked her number. He was bringing food back to Sara as he had her favorite chicken fingers, fries, toast and a cookies and cream shake along with wings and fries for himself. He also got two sweet teas. He walked in the door and set the food down when he saw Sara in tears. “She’s been telling everyone about my Dad’s alcoholism, why I’m not good enough for you. “ She was showing him stuff she found on Jaciyah’s phone. Jaciyah standing by Sara as he looked furious. “Pops, I had to show her. It ain’t right what mom is doing. She needs to stop. “

Sara

After lunch she decided that they would go on a trip to the park where Josh, Jaciyah and Jeyce played some football. She smiled watching the two as she went berry picking and made sure to clean them when she was done. Later she would make some strawberry shortcake. They went and bought ice cream as they walked along. They went back to Josh’s house where the boys played video games as she made the strawberry shortcake and homemade spaghetti from scratch, the recipe she got from her stepmom. She smiled as the boys tasted it, both of his boys agreeing “Mom, I mean Sara is a really good cook. “ Her face instantly went to Josh as she smiled softly. Mom. She was blessed to have a little family at last. Josh looked to the boys “What do we say? “ The boys grinned “Thank you, Ma. “ She grinned as she took the three of them in her arms for the biggest hug

Jey

He smiled as they were in the family hug. Finally a stable family at last. No fighting with Kecia, no worries about being kicked out of the house. Just apart of a family, a relationship where he was loved, his boys were loved. Thats all he wanted. To have a happy family like he did growing up. He couldn’t wait to marry this woman that he fell in love with. All was good in the world. His family.

TagList: @charmed-dreamssss, @nayys-world, @uceyliyahh, @jstarr86, @levisslut

#jey uso #Jey uso x oc #fanfic

6 notes · View notes