[All of this happened because I wanted to write something about Stiles not being able to sleep without his pillow. Spoiler alert: his pillow is Derek.]
Derek tries not to look too hurt when Stiles says he’s going back to Washington, but when the Sheriff claps his back and Scott offers him a friendly hug, he knows he failed. But after everything, after the other night - it just doesn’t feel fair.
“It was a nice road trip, wasn’t it?” Stiles had said after they’ve won, after everything was done, their friends were alive and fine and Derek finally got his loft back. “I mean, we had some fun, right?”
Derek smiled without looking away from the flowers the Sheriff got him as a housewarming gift. “Yeah.” He answered, finally turning around. “It was nice to spend time with you.” It was more than nice and he cursed himself for not being able to say it, still, after everything, after the nights spent driving and talking and fucking in deserted roads.
“Yeah.” Stiles agreed easily. He was the one who started it after all, always showing up to save Derek - despite Derek saving him back plenty of times - always being there, trusting him, smiling and laughing like Derek makes him happy. “What will you do now that you’re a free man again?”
Derek shrugged. “I always wanted to start a farm, maybe raise some sheep?” When Stiles blinked at him, surprised, Derek let out a snort.
“Fuck you, I almost believed it!” Stiles said, punching his shoulder.
“You’re ridiculous.” Derek shook his head, still smiling.
“You’re ridiculous.” Stiles stressed, his hand still on Derek’s shoulder, touching, teasing. “I’m -“ Derek didn’t let him finish then, turning around and just pressing their lips together.
He didn’t want to listen then - and in hindsight maybe he should’ve - but without the haste, the guilt of having a nice time whilst their friends could be dying, Derek couldn’t wait, he just wanted to worship Stiles’ body, just wanted to kiss all the places he couldn’t reach before when they were squeezed in the backseat of Stiles’ car.
And so he did, he made Stiles moan his name the entire night and he moaned Stiles’ own just as louder. Just to have his heart crushed the morning after.
“I’m gonna miss you.” Stiles says, his Jeep packed and ready to go. To leave everything behind.
It’s unfair, Derek knows. Stiles didn’t make promises and neither did he, but he can’t help how he feels. He understands Stiles doesn’t want to be in Beacon Hills anymore and that’s his choice, but Derek made his own and he’s tired of running away.
He’s never felt closer to his family than when he’s here, he’s already lost enough and he doesn’t want to lose his home. But somehow, as Stiles drives away, he feels like he just did.
I miss you, Derek thinks every day, staring at the black screen of his phone and wondering if he should actually write those words and send them to Stiles. He decides against it and despite the fact he was joking before, on the third day after Stiles left, Derek buys a farm.
He tells Lydia first during lunch at her favorite restaurant - she was adamant they had to become best friends and Derek enjoys her company so he lets it happen easily - and she tells him he’s not allowed to wear plaid around her. Then he tells Scott and two days later, he shows up at Derek’s front door with all kinds of seeds - “We need pumpkins for Halloween, Derek. Make it happen!”.
It’s something to do with his hands, something to work on. Create life, instead of ending them, build things, instead of destroying. He feels good, better and healing. Cora says he’s calmer now and Derek smiles, despite knowing she won’t be able to see him, and tells her he is.
Some days Stiles texts him, others he doesn’t. Derek reads the ones he has every night before going to bed, but he never answers them.
everyone needs more tony and babies in their life, right? have a fic. because tony canonically goes to hospitals and hugs babies who need it. (for mobile users, there’s a read-more after a few paragraphs)
Tony Stark isn’t
new to kids, not exactly.
He’s always tried
to visit paediatric wards when he had a moment, letting the kids play
with the armours and telling them stories. He helped Reed and Sue
with babysitting, and he remembers Val’s first attempts at building
microprocessors. He held a newborn Danielle Cage in his arms and he
marvelled at how tiny she was. He’s always glad to help his baby
Avengers with homework.
He likes kids. He
might never have his own, and he tells himself he’s made his peace
with that, but he likes kids and he likes spending time with them,
from babies and toddlers to I’m-not-a-kid-anymore
the moments he spends with kids never get any less special.
Have you tried counting calories. Don't cite stuff telling that it doesn't work. Have you actually tried using MyFitnessPal and a food scale?
So, my lovely blog followers, fat people get asked this question (or variations thereupon) pretty much constantly. This attitude anon has is one that makes fatphobia so rampant in our society. Being fat is considered a personal moral failing which is the result of “eating too much” and “not exercising enough”. Fatness is believed to be an aberration that only occurs when certain individuals “don’t try hard enough.”
You’ll notice that people who hold fatphobic attitudes believe this conclusion without any actual evidence; the result is that, when presented with contradictory evidence, the fatphobic person has to double-down on their fatphobia to maintain their position. It goes something like this:
Fatphobic person: Fat people are lazy, unattractive, bad, and unhealthy! Fat person: *Exists, doesn’t die, is a kind person/is attractive/works hard or otherwise has some “value” the fatphobic person did not expect fat people to have* Fatphobic person: Wait… why are you fat, then? Fat people are lazy, unattractive, bad, and unhealthy. Fat person: That’s shitty and fatphobic of you to say, you don’t know anything about me. Fatphobic person: I know that you’re fat! And fat people are lazy, unattractive, bad, and unhealthy. You can’t expect to be fat and ambitious, attractive, kind, and active! Fat person: Yes, I can. Why can’t I? Fatphobic person: Because you’re fat! And fat people are lazy, unattractive, bad, and unhealthy!!
So, to protect their fatphobic world-view and quiet the cognitive dissonance, anon needs to double-down on their pre-ordained conclusion that “fat people just don’t diet/exercise hard enough to lose weight.” Anon is seeking to verify through a gotchya! ask that their unsubstantiated beliefs which are contradicted by meaningful evidence are actually somehow magically true after all.
Anon, you can fuck off with that nonsense.
For the rest of you, I have a story.
I first started counting calories when I was 15. After an awkward year of putting on a lot of weight (I’d always been bigger, but I was starting to get stretch marks on my tummy and couldn’t fit into my pants anymore… you know, like a normal growing teenager) my mother and older sister approached me with a great plan for the three of us to bond and lose weight, all at the same time! We enrolled in a pricey, new Jenny-Craig-esque local diet clinic.
We had food journals in which we needed to write down everything we ate, even if we had just chewed a stick of gum. The first class was on nutritional food labels. Not something useful like defining unknown terms, explaining nutritional science, daily recommended amounts for proteins, sugars, cholesterol, etc., but how to do the math to answer questions like “how many calories are in 3 peanuts from a bag with a serving size of 1.5 ounces?” This was very important to the program because the diet-plan only allowed for 1,200 calories or less (less was encouraged) a day, and we had to account for every single one of them. There were regular weigh-ins (on a huge bright red scale like those ones at Guess Your Weight?! booths at theme parks, in the open store-front so anyone walking past could see). You were critiqued and questioned by your “weight counselor” if you did not lose weight every week. Even if the calories in your diet journal were under the weight-loss plan’s maximum, you were accused of fudging the numbers or “sneaking snacks” that you didn’t write down.
A year later I was suicidal and had missed a semester of high school.
After I managed to somehow claw my way out of that hole, graduate high school, and make it two semesters into college without completely melting down, I started calorie-counting again. This time, I made sure to make a regular exercise routine part of my plan, so that I would really be getting “healthy” and “doing it for myself.”
That is what I would tell myself while running 5 miles before heading to my 8 am class, and again when I would yawn and groan through a full day of lectures and extracurriculars. I would tell myself that while spending 3 hours in the gym after I got back to my dorm from my part-time job at 10 pm. It’s what I would tell myself when I started fainting once a week. It’s what I would tell myself when I refused to eat anything but 1 cup of cheerios with half a cup skim milk (breakfast), half a head of iceberg lettuce with red wine vinegar and a tablespoon of olive oil (lunch), and 1 cup of chicken broth (dinner) because I hadn’t lost more than a pound in the past two weeks. “I’m really getting healthy! And I’m doing it just for me!”
One day, while I was sweating and sobbing on a stair-stepper, muscles screaming after forcing myself through my regular after-job gym routine, I thought for maybe the 10,000th time “Why the fuck am I doing this to myself?” And for some reason, even though I hadn’t listened to that question the first 9,999 times I asked it, I really heard it this time. I was exhausted, miserable, and alone. I no longer found any joy in my life and had been functioning on auto-pilot for several months.
I realized that I wasn’t any healthier. I actually physically felt like absolute shit most of the time. I had muscle definition that looked good in photos, but I couldn’t repeatedly lift 50-pound bags of feed like I had before I started counting calories again. When I had weighed 60 pounds more, I had prided myself on being *thick russian accent* “strong like ox”….. and now I was having to ask my roommate for help moving my coffee table. And this was nothing next to the dive my mental health had taken since I’d started counting calories again.
I realized that the fact that I had less fat didn’t alter my life for the better in any meaningful way. Sure, I could fit into more clothes now and if I flexed my shoulder you could fit a mini-muffin in the hollow space of my clavicle (which I thought was really neat and hilarious for some reason). But I still thought I was ugly and gross and worthless. I still struggled with depression and anxiety. I wasn’t doing any better in my classes; my grades were slipping. I wasn’t creating or performing or dreaming; I hadn’t written or drawn or painted or sung or thought about my future in longer than I could remember. I wasn’t enjoying the company of the people I loved; I had been actively avoiding friends and family for months, embarrassed that I wasn’t dropping weight as fast as I had been when I first started counting calories again.
I wasn’t any happier than I had been when I was fat.
And for the first time I wondered to myself, “What if the fat’s not the problem at all?”
Almost 10 years later, and 75-ish pounds heavier (I’m not sure, I don’t own a scale), and I am so much happier, healthier, and fulfilled in my life than I was back then. I am so much more proud of who I am. I have experienced so much more than I would have if I had kept counting calories and hating my fat body.
Sorry if that doesn’t fit into your narrative, anon.
And to every fat person, know that whether or not your experiences are like mine, you do not ever need to justify your fatness to others. You are worthy of respect, you are worthy of love, you have value, you are important, and there is nothing wrong with being fat.
“well hello again.” The familiar voice of Tamara Monroe rung out.
Remember how I said Nolan was going to get me killed? I think he just did.
I looked up glaring at Monroe. It was only Monroe and one other guy but, they both had their guns pointed at me. I could take them, I just needed a distraction. She put the barrel of the gun right between my eyes.
“you know I always thought of myself as a bit of a psychic, I had a feeling you were going to die, and well it looks like my prediction came true.” Monroe said moving her finger to the trigger.
“HEY ASSHOLE UP HERE.”
The other hunter turned his attention to where Theo stood waving his arms. He aimed his gun emptying his rounds on him. I took this time to grab the barrel of the gun that was pressed to my head before head butting Monroe in the face. She fell backwards grabbing her bleeding nose.
“I thought you were a psychic, bitch.” I growled before kicking the gun away from her.
The man, realizing what was happening, struggled to reload his weapon. I pulled out my belt clicking it in place. I swung it in one swift motion and the hunter fell to the ground.
His head separated from his body.
I killed him.
Monroe looked in horror, as did I.
“oh my gosh.” I breathed looking at what I had just done.
A arm reached out pulling me away. I looked up at Theo dragging me back to the car we came in. Liam was in the backseat passed out. The tires squealed as we pulled away from the zoo. I stared straight ahead lost in my thoughts. That man probably had a family and I took him away from his family. Nolan was right, I really was a monster now. So many thoughts were going through my head I barely heard Theo speak up from beside me.
“are you okay?” Theo asked glancing at me.
“I killed him. I killed a man.” I said looking at him.
“you get used to it.” Theo said.
“DON’T TELL ME I’LL GET USED TO IT! OH MY GOD I KILLED SOMEONE!” I screamed.
“if you don't calm down you can join Liam in the back seat.” Theo growled.
“HOW CAN YOU EXPECT ME TO CALM DOWN? OH MY GOD SCOTT, WHAT IS HE GOING TO SAY? HE’S GOING TO KICK ME OUT OF THE PACK.” I said putting my head in my hands.
“It was self defense, theirs a difference.” Theo said.
“YOU KILL PEOPLE NOT ME!” I said breathing heavily.
“I haven’t killed anyone today. Can’t say the same for you.” Theo smirked.
He thought it was funny. This most definitely was NOT funny.
“I’m going to add you to my list if you don’t shut up.” I growled finally slowing my breathing.
“are you finally calm?” Theo asked.
I shook my head yes not really believing it myself. An awkward silence filled the car.
“oh god I’m going to throw up.” I said causing Theo to pull over.
I threw open the door releasing everything I had eaten for the past few days. The images of the man's decapitated head filled my mind making me throw up again.
“what’s going on?” Liam asked finally awakening.
“Y/N killed someone.” Theo shrugged like it was no big deal.
“YOU DID WHAT?” Liam asked shooting straight up.
“seriously would you both chill out. He was going to put a bullet through your head if you didn’t take his off.” Theo said.
“I have to tell Scott.” I said looking at my hands.
Theo sighed before making a right turn to Scott’s house. I didn’t know how I was going to tell him but I needed too. I didn’t mean to kill him, I wouldn’t want to hurt anyone. Theo pulled in to Scott’s driveway giving me an annoyed look. I got out of the car taking deep breaths. I walk inside to see Scott, Malia, Lydia, Mason, Melissa, and Chris crowded around a map.
“Scott.” I started causing everyone to look at me.
I wanted to tell him but nothing would come out. He walked over putting his hands on my shoulders.
“what happened?” He asked looking concerned.
“Scott I’m so sorry, I..” I started but was interrupted by Rafe McCall bursting through the front door.
“the guns, they’re all gone.” Rafe said looking at Scott.
“yeah we know.” Scott growled.
“No I mean they were distributed. Distributed to the citizens of Beacon Hills.” He said looking at all of us.
distributed? they were supposed to be destroyed.
“guys.” Lydia said but no one was paying attention.
“GET DOWN!” she screamed.
the first bullet shattered the window making us duck for cover but it was no use they poured in one by one. I cried out before everything became one big blur.
NOLAN’S POINT OF VIEW
“Y/N!” I screamed as she rolled down the hill.
Liam growled coming at me, I tried to move past him but he threw me back. I couldn’t see where she was and it killed me.
“Liam I have to get her!” I said
“THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT.” Liam growled coming closer to me.
He was in full werewolf form backing me to the wall. I flinched as he punched the wall directly beside my head. He kept punching it again and again but never directly hit me. Suddenly Liam fell limp on the ground. Another guy stood behind him glaring directly at me.
“I’d run.” He said.
The other guy grabbed Liam dragging him off. I had to find her. I jumped up quickly trying my best to walk down the steep hill but I fell and went rolling too. I hurt my ribs on the way making it hard to breath. I hit the bottom feeling pretty rough. I was a little ways away but I could see everything. Monroe had the gun pointed right between her eyes.
“you know I always thought of myself as a bit of a psychic, I had a feeling you were going to die, and well it looks like my prediction came true.” Monroe said moving her finger to the trigger.
I tried to protest but I got the wind knocked out of me on the way down.
“HEY ASSHOLE UP HERE!”
the other hunter turned to where the guy from earlier was and started shooting at him. Y/N grabbed the barrel of the gun Monroe was holding before hitting Monroe in the face with her head. Monroe fell backwards clutching her nose.
“I thought you were a psychic, bitch.” Y/N said kicking the gun away from her.
“watch out.” I croaked but it was barely audible.
the other hunter was reloading his gun about to shoot her. Y/N removed her belt which I now know was a sword all along. She clicked it in place before swinging it. I watched in horror as the man’s head was severed by her blade. The man’s body fell limp and his head right next to the body. She jumped back in awe of what she did.
“oh my gosh.” She said dropping the sword.
The other guy came over pulling her away. Monroe got up examining the body of the hunter. She soon noticed me laying in the dirt. She came over helping me up.
“this is who she really is Nolan.” Monroe said pointing at the dead hunter.
I couldn't get the image of the hunter out of my mind. I couldn’t get the image of her doing it out of my mind either. I laid awake all night thinking of it. What bothered me most is her killing him did nothing to me. I still wanted her, I still wanted to help her, protect her, love her.
I walked in to school exhausted from everything that happened yesterday. I managed to make it through my first three classes but there was no sign of Gabe anywhere. I got up when the bell rang dragging myself to the next class. Gabe suddenly appeared blocking my way. He had a cut on his face with blood still seeping out of it.
“we have a problem.” He said grabbing my arm.
He led me to the locker room showing me the cracked mirror.
“what happened?” I asked.
“Liam and Theo, they were here asking about what happened at the McCall house.” Gabe said looking at me.
I gave him a confused look.
“what do you mean what happened at the McCall house?” I asked.
Gabe looked down guilty.
“Gabe what did you do?” I asked.
“I did it for you.” He said.
“Gabe what are you talking about?” I asked again.
“I shot up the house, but I told Monroe it was you. All of them were inside except for Theo and Liam.” He said.
I immediately thought about Y/N.
"why did you do that?“ I growled.
"you should be grateful, you’d be dead if it weren’t for me.” Gabe said getting in my face.
I took a deep breath taking off. I could feel the tears cloud my vision. She didn’t escape Monroe just to get killed by Gabe. I quickly got in my car driving to Beacon Hills Memorial. I ran up to the front desk asking if there was anyone with the last name Yukimura there. The nurse said no sending me away. More tears fell down my cheeks as I got back in my car. I refused to believe she was gone. I drove to her house seconds away from a panic attack. I ran to her door throwing it open.
“Y/N?” I called up the steps.
no answer. I quickly ran up the steps in her room but she wasn’t there either. I fell to my knees letting the tears roll down my cheeks. Suddenly the door slammed making me whip around. Scott stood there with his arms crossed in front of him.
“I knew you’d end up here eventually.” Scott said looking at me.
“where is she?” I asked.
“I can show you, but I’m going to need you to do something for us.” Scott said negotiating.
If I said yes there was no going back to Monroe.
“okay.” I said without hesitation.
“follow me.” Scott said walking out her door.
I followed behind him keeping my eyes on the ground. He led me to a blue jeep signaling for me to get in. I nodded my head getting in the passenger seat. To say this was an awkward situation was an understatement.
“what do I have to do?” I asked.
“you’ll know what to do when the time is right.” Scott said glancing at me.
what the hell did that mean?
“how did you know I would show up?” I asked.
“because I’ve been in love before, and I know what it looks like. You’ve never hurt anyone Nolan because deep down you’ve always known she was different but you loved her anyways. Now you just know what makes her and the rest of us different..” Scott said not taking his eyes off the road.
I took a minute to take in what he was saying. It was true, I always knew she was a little different but that’s what made me fall in love with her in the first place.
“She killed someone and I didn’t even care.” I said glancing at Scott.
“yeah Theo told me. He also told me how she proceeded to panic and then threw up afterwards. She would never mean to hurt anyone Nolan, I know her and so do you.” He said pulling in the parking lot.
I looked up to see the sign for Beacon Hills Animal Clinic. I gave him a confused look.
“we couldn’t take her to a hospital.” He said getting out of the car.
I followed after him. He opened the door before stepping to the side. She was laying on metal table, Liam was there holding her hand. His head snapped up as soon as I entered the room.
“what’s he doing here?” Liam growled.
“easy Liam, he’s here because he cares.” Scott said standing in front of me.
“whatever. I keep taking her pain but it isn’t doing anything.” Liam said.
Scott walked over leaning over her. She wasn’t moving.
“Is she dead?” I choked out.
I could feel a single tear run down my cheek.
“no but she’s going to be if we can’t get her to heal.” Liam said looking to Scott.
I walked closer to her. She had three bullet holes in her chest. I felt angry. I wanted to make Gabe pay for this.
“how do we get her to heal?” I asked looking at both boys.
“I don’t know, she needs to command the fox inside of her to heal itself but she can’t exactly do that right now.” Scott said.
“taking away her pain isn’t working either.” Liam said grabbing her hand again.
“can I try something?” I asked looking at Scott and then Liam.
Scott nodded his head moving out of the way. I walked to the side of her looking down at her perfect facial features. I took a deep breath before pressing my lips to hers. I kissed her with everything I had in me. I didn’t know if it would actually work but I needed to try.
“look.” Liam said.
I pulled away looking down at her. The three holes in her chest were healed over, like they were never there. She gasped shooting up off the table.
I like cliffhangers so you can have one more. Beaten coming soon xoxoxo
"WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE ?!“
You ducked quickly, barely missing the ceramic mug that came flying towards your head. "Is that all you can do ?” You taunted him, your own anger impeding you from thinking rationally.
Ivar looked like a wild animal, you could almost see the foams of anger around the corners of his mouth. He roared, his eyes closing tightly and his hands clenching around his favorite axe.
Panic instantly flooded through you.
This was bad, very very bad.
You had always known Ivar to bee very violent, especially after having witnessed him kill one of your peers when you were just a small child. Nevertheless, he had never hurt you before, in all this time that you have grown up together. You’ve had the nastiest of arguments, but never had he touched his axe while yelling at you. Yet this time was different.
Your heart was beating loudly, but the adrenaline that brought both the bravery and stupidity of anger was still pumping through your veins, you hated him at the moment. You were so mad, your hands were aching to bash his head into the wall, break his nose, slam the door and wreck the room.
Alright, so for the past few months, I’ve been noticing a lot of talk about the whole “diamond spending” thing with PB. And before I get into the details, I’m just gonna say that all of you are 110% right. It is unfair that many of us can’t afford to unlock special items or scenes with our favorite characters because a lot of the times, we can’t do anything about it. We’re not all rich and capable like some other fortunate people are and while we think it may not affect us in the story, it actually prevents us from accessing other things that could help us like the dossiers in ES or the Adventurer outfits. I’m not saying PB has done nothing in regards to making us happy and having fun because believe me, they have❤️ But none of us want to deal with this issue anymore and it needs to be resolved.
So luckily, @cartoonfanforlife and I have taken the liberty to start a petition in changing this. And yes, I know what you’re thinking. How are we gonna make PB aware about this? Well, that’s why we decided we need backup. @hollyashton has been a HUGE part of the fandom since the beginning and while we believe she’ll be a big influence on getting our point across, she’ll also help take “the gold home.”
So what do you guys think?? We won’t make further decisions on this until a majority of us agree to pitch in and work together. But until then, thanks for listening guys!! And spread the word if u can. It would be so awesome to make this real😊💯😊💯😊💯 Thanks again!!
Summary: After years of not speaking after a break-up, Richie finally gets to talk to Eddie over the phone.
Word count: 1.6k
A/N: okay so i know i’m supposed to be writing rain and doing request and my blogrates but after hearing my favorite song by neyo called do you, i got so inspired and had to write this. i had to. i actually cried a lil writing this one. it’s probs sucks bc i didn’t edit it and wrote it in an hour but i hope you guys like it!
The gravel of the road cracked underneath Richie’s boots, his tread slow and hesitant.
Once he reached the booth, his hand reached out to touch the cold glass, staring at the phone on the inside. Did people even use these anymore?
This was a terrible idea. No, scratch that - it was the worst idea he could ever have.
It was selfish. It was disrespectful. It was low.
He just needed to hear his voice one more time.
The tall, curly headed boy finally stepped inside of the booth, not bothering to close the door behind him as he picked up the phone and deposited a coin inside.
Richie’s heart was beating so fast that he felt like it would explode out of his chest. Would he answer?
The sound of Eddie Kaspbrak’s voice on the other end brought tears to Richie’s eyes. A shaky breath sounded into the receiver on his end, doing his best to hold it together. It was a voice he wanted to hear for years now, and god, did it still sound just like a song.
“Hello? Is anyone there?”
“Hey Eds.. It’s me.”
Eddie froze when he heard that voice, one of his hands slapping down to rest against the counter in front of him so that he wouldn’t fall.
He almost didn’t believe this was real, just like he almost didn’t believe Richie had been trying for weeks to reach him.
“Hi…” Eddie’s greeting was flat, but that was purely because he didn’t want Richie to know that he still had an immediate effect on him.
The other line was silent for a few other beats, and Eddie’s heart started racing at the idea that it had disconnected. It frustrated him to think that he was actually upset at the prospect.
“Maybe.. maybe this wasn’t a good idea. I know you probably don’t care about anything I have to say.”
Eddie remained quiet, hanging onto the sound of Richie’s voice. He’d heard it the other night, listening to one of the five voice mails that Richie had left because Eddie refused to answer the phone.
“But you’re listening so.. thank you for that.”
It grew uncomfortably silent again, and Eddie could tell that Richie was waiting for him to say something.
“Why are you calling me, Richie?” He finally asked quietly, unable to hide the wariness in his voice. Before Richie could answer, they both flinched at the sound of a voice wafting over from Eddie’s living room.
Imagine Tony don't liking to be close/being touched by Steve after CW but the guys keeps insisting until Natasha calls him out on it (Protective Natasha, please!)
Oh, I like it! I struggle a lot with Nat’s role in CW (to be fair, I struggle with everyone’s roles in CW), but I’m gonna try :) Here goes nothing:
It doesn’t start in New York. By the time they finally get back to New York–it takes three months longer than Natasha initially expected–she’s already close to the end of her rope, only the merciless training of her childhood keeping her from completely losing it. Because Wakanda may be a nice place, a pleasant exile even, but she has to spend five months listening to Lang’s whining, Clint’s endless complaints, Steve’s tragically upset stares into nothingness–or at a phone that doesn’t ring, and really, she could’ve told him that from the start–and Wanda’s temper tantrums.
Also the amount of biting replies she swallows down ought to have killed her by now. They were poisonous enough for sure.
So getting back to New York, to their old compound, is a relief. It means Natasha can avoid the others for weeks if she tries–and boy does she try, she’s seen far too much of them lately. It helps. The lack of a golden cage helps all of them, eases some of the tension, but it doesn’t solve any of their problems.
And there are problems, and not just between Tony and the others, or her and the others either. There are a lot of issues that have never been resolved, arguments they couldn’t have when they were all scooped up in Wakanda and unable to stay out of each other’s way for long. Coming back, signing documents that are pointedly not called The Revised Accords, it’s like slapping a bandage on an inflamed wound so you don’t have to look at it anymore, and hope it will heal.
But every now and then they accidentally brush against said untreated wound and the pain flares up again, reminding everyone that it’s there and it’s staying.
Like when Clint calls Laura and she lets it go to voicemail. Or when Sam tries to ask about how Rhodey is doing without making it awkward, and fails spectacularly. Or when Tony flinches away from Steve.
It’s only the last one though that really gets Natasha’s blood boiling. It’s there right from the start, when Tony symbolically shakes Steve’s hand, and even though he’s smiling, his body is all tense muscles ready to jump. It doesn’t get better after that.
There are moments where Steve tries to reach out that are almost physically painful to watch. When he rests a hand on Tony’s shoulder and the poor man almost jumps out of his skin for example (they’ve lost a lot off cups to that particular move). Or when Steve always picks the seat closest to Tony, only to have Tony be tense and defensive thorough the whole meeting. The list goes on.
Steve isn’t doing it out of cruelty, that much Natasha is willing to grant him. He’s honestly, desperately trying to fix things between them, bridge the unacknowledged gap in the team. He’s apologised multiple times–and he’s meant every word of it. But the thing is? Regret isn’t going to change the past.
And Steve, Steve is so focused on fixing, he doesn’t even seem to realise that all he really does when using force, is break. Because it’s so clear, written all over Tony’s face and body language, how uncomfortable he is, and yet Steve keeps pushing and pushing, for a resolution that can’t happen by backing Tony into a corner.
The issue comes to a head when Steve tries to hand Tony a plate with a piece of apple pie. It’s an innocent enough action on the surface, but Natasha can see Tony literally freezing in place. And really, it’s anything but innocent in every way that matters.
“Grow up, Stark!” Clint mutters from somewhere behind her, and really, that’s not helping. She’s going to kick his ass for that later. “Just take the damn plate!”
Tony doesn’t though. His wide eyes flicker back and forth between the plate Steve’s holding out with a pleading expression and the door he’s probably thinking of escaping. Being put on the spot like that only makes it worse, makes the slight tremble in his hands more visible and Natasha’s had enough.
“Give me that!” she snaps, rips the plate out of Steve’s hand and throws it onto the ground. The plate shatters. Steve gapes at her but she doesn’t even let him get the question out. “I’m sick of this shit you’re pulling here!” she continues in a righteous fury that’s been building up for six months.
“You need to back up, Steve! I don’t care how many times you’ve tried to reach out to Tony, you don’t have a right towards his friendship or his trust and you’ve done fucking shit to earn it! You need to learn to respect his feelings instead of bulldozing past them just because they don’t happen to suit you! Because you know what happens when you push? This!” She points at the mess of pie and shards at her feet. “And you know what you do when you make a mess? You apologise and clean it up! And you don’t use force to do it!”
She’s breathing hard by the end of her rant, but when she turns around to face Tony, the hesitant smile on her face is genuine. “Let’s get out of here,” she says, and it’s a question filled with all the things she hasn’t been able to voice.
Tony doesn’t reach for her the way he used to, stays out of her reach, but he smiles, just as hesitantly, and nods. “Lead the way,” he says, and they’ve got a lot to talk about and even more to work through, but it’s a start.
“Aren’t you gonna clean that up?” Clint yells somewhere behind them. Natasha doesn’t even bother to turn around.
“I haven’t seen anyone else taking responsibility for the mess they’ve made,” she throws over her shoulder with all the sugary pleasantness of a Black Widow about to reveal her true face. “Why should I?”
There’s no answer but then she didn’t expect one anyways.
hi, it's theory anon! idk how many asks this will take, pls bear with me. My theory is that I think babygate was supposed to be a Zayn stunt, not Louis. I came at this backwards, reading up on Z leaving & BG happening after the fact, bc I had checked out of fandom during that time. When reading thru what happened, there are pieces that still don't fit. (1) L didn't "need" babygate, he was closeted w/ E & that was his established "brand". In order to make BG fit, they had to throw him (1/?)
right into cheating, partyboy (poolgirl, 0 to 60 on the nights out). Prior to that he was the stay-at-home monogamous boyfriend. But Z’s brand was the cheater, partier, the one w/ the problems & the randoms. Ppl think Z’s leaving was a stunt, but there is real anger on Harry’s part. If L got BG after Z left, I think that explains it bc I don’t his reactions are all fake. BG events used to coincide all the time with Z’s solo happenings. Like clockwork. Like they did in Jan w/ L’s for his solo effort… It wld have been great promo for Perrie, scorned fiancé. They tried to spin some cheating stuff after Zerrie split, but it didn’t stick, & I think it was supposed to. That weird time when L & Z just took off, right around when the J’s came into the picture. I can’t think of anymore rn, but there was other stuff, too. IDK if Z’s leaving was a stunt or not (I haven’t read on this enough, I’m sorry), but I think BG was going to be their promo push for him regardless, & I think he walked away from it, which is why he also had no other promo in place. - That’s all I have rn, haha, sorry to flood your inbox! I keep finding stuff that adds to this theory, though, and I’m wondering if it’s been brought up before? I haven’t read as much into the Zayn-leaving stuff, but I’m trying to catch up! Thanks for listening, hope this theory is as wild as you might have wanted!
You know what…this isn’t that crazy when you think about it. Look at Zayn’s previous stunt girls:
Now look at who Louis’s stunt girls:
Now who does this girl look like 1DHQ would assign her to?
Similar to how they branded each boy…
I’m sure their thorough moulding of each character included what their “type” was, given that there is a clear pattern. Zayn has gone on to date another high profile blonde, and Louis just recycled a past brunette beard.
In terms of Zayn leaving being a stunt…this has been discussed at length, particularly by @mellygrant and here is a great post about it: (x)
This is slightly controversial, but I personally think that the animosity that people perceive to be coming from Harry is a bit too over the top. Like Harry is doing an impersonation of someone who should be angry…which I also discussed here: (x)
Honestly, whoTF knows what’s going on? I don’t. My life since March of 2015 can honestly be summed up by this:
You could probably send me a conspiracy that Niall isn’t actually Irish and that would be infinitely more plausible than what’s happened over the past TWO FUCKIN YEARS. I seriously can’t believe how long it’s been. And now they’re actually bringing it back around full circle to what’s her face because approximately no one has believed any of Louis’ stunts since then.
I don’t think it’s all all coincidental that she’s back, and it points to the fact that Zayn and Louis’ stunts are always conveniently at the same time or linked to each other. Zayn drops a music video, Louis drops a BG bomb, like it’s gone back and forth between Zayn’s promo and Louis’ stunts for over a year. Now they’re not even trying to hide the connection…
(Sidebar: who’s gonna tell her about the bandana code? Noses, not it.)
As soon as I saw this I was like
RIP to the two years of peace I had with out having to see her desperately using Louis for any kind of promo whilst slagging him off all the time. Her “fashion blog” must have done some serious tanking if she’s roping herself back into this mess for publicity. The story they’ve built around that breakup hardly made her look good for rushing back to his side the minute his last “breakup” hit the papers, but I guess karma is a bitch that way.
The fact that around the time her promo for Tommy Hilfiger came out Louis followed them and Champion on Twitter…
And then they both start showing up in Vetements (a high fashion heaux version of Champion)
…makes it very clear, to me at least, that this is part of dat Industry Lyf™ in which Louis is being paid to be a walking billboard, as he has been for awhile…I’ve never been under the illusion that stars just love one brand THAT much. At least I hope he’s being paid or else this Tweedle Dumb and Dumber getup is just embarrassing. I mean how many ways can he make his “dates” seem like an outing with a sibling?
Your theory, whilst wild, actually makes a lot of sense. So thank you for sending it to me! xx
SM!AU prompt2: people don't know who their soul mates are but they can feel it when they meet them. As they grow, the get little details about them, a hint of their individual smell like a whiff of perfume, a peel of laughter lost to the wind and they get small pieces of their features. Betty knows the feel of leather before she ever saw Jughead in his jacket. (I'm not sure how this could work but just an idea)
This is gonna be a little tricky but I’ll give it a go.
Betty sat in the back booth at Pops, her chin propped in her hand as she watched Archie and Veronica whispering to each other and sharing stolen kisses a few booths away, they were perfect together, the very definition of soulmates. Archie brushed a dark strand of hair out of Veronica’s face and Betty couldn’t help the audible sigh that escaped her lips. Of course she was happy for her best friends, they deserved each other but sometimes it stung more than it should.
Betty Cooper was mateless, she was sure of it. It broke her heart to think about it but at 18 years old, time was running out and she still hadn’t had any of the mysterious feelings her friends had talked about. She could remember clearly the day Veronica ran through her bedroom doors going on about a specific shade of orange and how that was the only color she could see, then there was the way Archie kept fiddling with his bare neck and claiming he felt something like pearls resting there. It was beautiful when the pair finally realized they were meant to be.
“Penny for your thoughts.”
Betty glanced up, her eyes softening at the beanie wearing boy as he slid in the space across from her, his hands clutching a plate of fries.
“Definitely not worth a penny Juggie.” Betty smiled sadly, reaching towards his plate and grabbing a fry.
He looked at her with concerned eyes
“What’s the matter? You’ve got that look in your eyes.”
Betty raised a brow
“What look?” She asked incredulously
Jughead scrunched his nose and pouted
“This one” he mimicked something that was similar to a puppy dog face.
“Oh please” she giggled, throwing a straw wrapper at him as he smirked.
“No really Bets, what’s up?”
Her eyes lingered in Archie and Veronica’s direction and Jughead nodded knowingly.
“You want that huh?” He said softly, not an ounce of judgment in his tone.
The blonde nodded slowly, her eyes dropping as she fiddled with her fingers.
“It’s just not fair. I haven’t felt anything! I don’t see anything, I don’t feel anything. When is it my turn?” She moped miserably, her eyes filling with tears.
Jughead moved to her side of the booth and wrapped his arm around her shoulders
“You’ll get it Bets, I know you will. You just have to be patient.”
She rested her head in the crook of his neck and inhaled the familiar smell of smoke and toothpaste mixed with his distinct cologne.
“I don’t know juggie”
He pressed a kiss to the top of her head, running his nose over her silky blonde hair.
They sat like that for an hour, the quiet was comfortable and Jughead felt his eyes get droopy as he listened to her steady breathing.
Finally Betty broke the silence
“I should go. Big river vixens game tonight. Hurray go riverdale.” She monotoned.
“You’re becoming very cynical with age my Beautiful blonde friend.”
She laughed, rising from the booth and grabbing her bag as she waved a lazy hand
“See you tommorow?”
He nodded, pulling his laptop out
“You got it.”
He watched her walk out the door and sighed, she was so beautiful and good and kind, whoever her soulmate would be was a very lucky man.
Two hours later and four chapters in, he heard the familiar giggle that always made his heart lighter, he looked up with a lazy smile expecting to see Betty standing over him in her tiny blue and gold cheerleading uniform. But she wasn’t standing there, in fact she wasn’t anywhere in the diner but he could still hear her laughter, he stood up, eyes scanning the entire diner as the laughter faded softly. He scratched the back of his neck as he called for Pops.
“Hey Pops? Is Betty here? Did she head into the bathroom?”
Poptate looked up from cleaning the counter and glanced around
“Jughead it’s 11:00, you’re the only one in here.” The older man rolled his eyes, heading back into the kitchen.
What the hell was that about?
Betty cursed herself as she walked through the dark streets of Riverdale, the game had run later than expected and Betty had to walk home in the dark, and the fact that she had forgotten her jacket was not helping the situation. It was a particularly cold, damp night and her sleeveless uniform top was not providing much protection against the wind.
She should have just taken the ride with Veronica, wrapping her hands around her body she shivered. Her fingers came up to grasp bare skin but something was strange. Instead of feeling the prominent goosebumps playing on her skin she felt rough denim, it was familiar and worn in but when she glanced down there was nothing on her body. She knew the feeling, it was Jugheads denim jacket, the one she had worn at the drive in so many times.
She wasn’t cold anymore, it was almost as if she was wrapped up in Jughead.
What was going on?
Betty slammed her locker shut, the bags under her eyes were visible to all and Kevin noticed immediately.
“Rough night?” He asked soothingly as Joaquin handed the blonde a to go cup of coffee, which she gripped gratefully, pressing a kiss to his cheek causing the long haired teen to blush.
“Something weird is happening. I don’t know what it is but I’ve been up all night trying to figure it out.” She sighed as they walked to their first period
“What do you mean?”
Betty looked around nervously
“Well last night, I was walking home and I remember being freezing and then all of a sudden I wasn’t. It’s like Jughead was next to me, I mean I could feel his jacket!” She threw a hand up dramatically.
Kevin and Joaquin exchanged a glance as a smile appeared on their faces, grinning at something behind Betty.
“Looks like he didn’t sleep too well either” Joaquin nodded towards Jughead who was walking towards them.
“Hey” the flannel wearing boy grumbled, slumping against a locker, his eyes scanning Betty’s tired face.
“You didn’t sleep either?” He questioned knowingly.
Betty nodded standing outside her chemistry classroom
“Nope.” She popped the P.
Jughead looked Betty up and down, eyeing the tiny sleeveless white dress
“It’s freezing in that classroom, here take this, you’ll need it.”
He shrugged off his denim jacket and held it out to her.
Betty stared wide eyed for a moment before clutching the jacket close to her chest and running into the classroom with a squeaky
Jughead looked up at Kevin
“What was that about?”
Kevin smirked and grabbed Joaquin’s hand
“I haven’t the slightest idea” he breezed past Jughead but stopped abruptly
“New cologne? It smells suspiciously like peaches and vanilla? Did you borrow Betty’s perfume.” He grinned wickedly as he strut down the hallway, Joaquin ducking his head and smiling as he followed his own soulmate.
Jughead lifted his collar and sure enough. Peaches and Vanilla.
What the hell?
The rest of the day flew by and eventually both Betty and Jughead plopped down on the couch in the blue and gold office.
“I am so glad that day is over. I’m exhausted.”
The blonde sighed, relieved.
“Definitely. Remind me to never come to school after two hours of sleep.”
Sitting up straighter, Betty glanced shyly down to her folded hands in her lap
“Why didn’t you get any sleep?”
Jughead turned his body towards her
“ lot on my mind. What about you?”
She bit her lip
His eyes lingered on the strawberry red lips tucked beneath her perfect white teeth.
“Penny for your thoughts” he whispered, his face inching towards hers.
Betty glanced up, their foreheads almost touching
“Definitely not worth a penny.” She whispered back hoarsely.
His hands came up to cup her neck
“That’s where you’re wrong Betty Cooper, you’re worth everything.” With that he dropped his lips to hers as her hands wound themselves in his hair.
They kissed for what felt like hours, desperate lips and pent up passion. It was everything Betty had been waiting for and more, eventually they pulled away for air and Betty nestled her face in his neck, pulling away quickly
“You smell like vanilla?” She questioned, confused.
He smiled crookedly
“And you smell like smoke.”
Her eyes widened before, realization hit her
“Your jacket..” she trailed off
He nodded, dropping his forehead to hers again
“You found me” She choked out, her voice thick with emotion.
“No, mom, I’m just staying at Nico’s”, Will grins and winks at Nico. Nico thinks it’s pretty impressive if they can pull this off. “It’s late already, and it’s not like I have school tomorrow or anything.”
Nico hears Will’s mother’s voice through the line but doesn’t listen to what she’s saying. Instead he focuses on his boyfriend’s neck, so well at hand from where he’s lying next to Will on the bed. He presses a soft, lingering kiss by the pulse point and feels Will run a hand through his hair. I’m going to miss this.
“Mom - no, listen. I need to leave for college in a week. Who knows when I’m going to see him again.”
That’s - not actually entirely true. Not that Will’s mother needs to know that they’re planning on visiting each other most every weekend. Nico throws an arm across Will’s chest and plays with the hem of his shirt. He’s not particularly looking forward to the four hour drive from New York to Boston every other weekend, but if it means he can spend time with Will he’ll do it over and over again.
Will sighs to the phone, and Nico peppers his kisses down to the barely exposed collar bone. “I know, mom. I’m gonna miss you, too. But Nico’s my -” Nico can see how Will swallows, can feel the hold around his shoulders tightening, “he’s my best friend.”
Again, not entirely true, but this Nico can live with. His own parents wouldn’t be too happy about him dating a boy, either, so he can understand where Will comes from. Besides, this way they can sleep in the same room, in the same bed, and no one has to go down the hall to the guest room.
Nico nuzzles to Will’s neck and presses his body closer to Will’s. Their legs tangle together as he listens to Mrs Solace go on and on about something he can’t quite hear. She’s probably trying to guilt trip Will into going home for the night, like she has tried so many times before. Sometimes Nico wonders if she likes Nico at all.
“I’ll be home every night for the rest of the week, mom.”
That makes Nico look up at Will, who shoots him an apologetic look and mouths sorry as his mother keeps talking. Nico knows they have no other choice. That doesn’t mean he has to be happy about it.
Without saying anything, Nico shimmers down the bed until he can press his face to the small sliver of skin peeking from under the hem of Will’s shirt. He breathes in deeply before starting to leave teasing kisses all over, and grins when he feels Will’s muscles tense under his lips.
“Yes, I promise”, Will says, and his voice is a little strained as he lifts a hand to bury it in Nico’s hair again. Nico pushes the shirt up to expose more skin and uses his teeth to nip around Will’s navel. “H-how about this. We can all go to Grandma’s for dinner tomorrow. Just please, let me spent some time tonight with Nico - oh.”
Will’s voice cuts into a barely there sigh when Nico dips his tongue to the navel and quickly moves on to suck a mark next to it. Will grips Nico’s hair tightly in his fist, and Nico can hear Mrs Solace asking something.
“No! No, mom, I’m not drunk, I s-swear.” He doesn’t sound very convincing anymore, but Nico can’t really blame him. If Will was running his hands up Nico’s sides like this when Nico’s trying to speak to his mother, he wouldn’t sound very convincing, either.
Nico moves his lips lower, towards Will’s hip bone, and one of his thumbs flicks quickly over a nipple.
“You know what, mom, we can have this conversation tomorrow. Sleep well. Good night.” Will disconnects the call and drops his phone to the mattress unguardedly. “You’re a real devil, aren’t you, di Angelo?”
Nico grins before nipping at the skin by the waistline of Will’s pants. “Well, if you’re going to abandon me for the rest of the week I thought we could have a head start. Too bad your mother was hogging you all to herself.”
Will looks a little disgusted when he gives Nico a pointed look. “Please don’t mention my mother when your mouth is inches away from my dick.”
With a laugh, Nico climbs up on top of Will and leans in to kiss him, slow and meaningful. “Noted”, he mutters against Will’s lips and feels him smile. “Anything else?”
Harry can’t quite put a finger on the way his sister looks at him. Her thick brows pulled together and she’s biting the inside of her cheek. Anne’s asleep in her room, it’s 2 am in the morning and two siblings are having a heart to heart session. Gemma sighs after taking a little time to think about all the things Harry said. "How do you even know the date Harry? I’m sure she hasn’t send you an invitation.” Harry is a little taken aback, he is not expecting her first reaction to be this.
The Night Waves, the Stars Talk, the Years Alone Know
“How did you do it?” Ford asked. Something about his tone
made it clear to Stan it wasn’t an idle question. It wasn’t an offhand remark
like the hundreds he’s gotten over the years. It wasn’t the rhetorical awe Soos
or the kids sometimes gave him. It wasn’t even the admiration and frustration
from one genius to another (hey—criminal genius is still genius, right?) It was
asked in a low, clear voice.
No accusation, no awe, no admiration. Just a simple
question, one brother to another. With an undercurrent of sadness that
resonated deep within Stanley’s bones.
He knew exactly what Ford was referring to the moment he
asked. He considered playing dumb, but he knew Ford no longer fell for that—not
“Stanley?” Ford asked again, slight worry creeping into his
tone. Stan sighed and turned to face his brother. The cool night air swayed
their hair with the breeze, but nothing else was moving. It was a still night,
cloudless, perfect for watching the stars. And
telling a dead man’s story, apparently, Stan thought.
“Inside,” was all Stan said, turning to duck into the cabin
and make himself a cup of hot chocolate before plunging into the story. (What
could Stan say? Mabel had ruined him for coffee, it had to be hot chocolate
As you wake up from the night before you relise that Harry isn’t laying next to you anymore.
“Harry?” You whisper from the dryness of your voice. As you go to climb out of Harry’s bed, you notice a new blue bandage around your shoulder.
Walking over to the small port hole window next to his bed, you tilt your head to the side. You notice that it’s bright out side but the smoky clouds block your view of the sun.
As you step away from the window you notice a small black and white photo of a woman on Harry’s book self. Gently picking up the photo you turn it over to see small running writting “To my dear son Harry, I hope ye get to see the world - A….” the name was smugged making it difficult to understand. You try to read what the words are saying but can’t from the dirt.
While you were busy investigating the photo, you didn’t hear Harry walk in. “Princess, what are ye doing?” He walks up behind you, closer then usual and gently takes the photo in his hands.
He stays quiet for a minute before he placed the photo back onto the book shelf before turning to you. “This is me mum. I never met her but this and her necklace. It is all I have left” he takes the golden necklace from under his shirt and holds it in his hands. A bright white pearl sits in the center of a golden necklace. Dimands trace the outline of the heart making it shine. “The pearl in the middle was given to her by a mermaid. My dad use to tell me stories about her when i was little.” Harry smiles at the necklace and places it back under his shirt.
After a moment of silencr you can’t help but to ask “what happened to her?” Harry looks away from you and whispers “I don’t know. My father never told me. And he’s too drunk these days anyway”
After an awkward silence you pull Harry into a hug “I’m sorry Harry” he places a hand on your back before pulling away. “Gil told me he has something of yours”
Taking a second to think you remember the events of last night “The pixie dust! You have to show me where he is” Harry immediately nods and directs you out of his room.
As you step onto the deck you can here Gil singing some sort of sailor song into of the sail post “Gil! I need you!” Harry yells interrupting Gil’s song.
Gil climbs down the ropes landing infront of you “Hey guys whats wrong?” He tilts his head to the side with a big smile on his face.
You lean over and whisper to Gil asking where the pixie dust is. Nodding he goes to grab it from inside his jacket when a voice cleared from behind you.
“What are you doing on my ship (Y/N)!” Uma yells dragging her sword behind her. She stops infront of you and stabs her knife into the ground. Harry steps infront of you and looks down at Uma.
“What are you doing Harry! This is my ship! Your my first mate. You listen to me! So get out of my way.“ Harry doesnt move while Uma jabs her fingers into his chest.
Harry knocks it away calmly “Uma this is not ye'r ship, it’s me father’s and ye are no longer me Captain either. Ye'r nothing but fish bait!” Harry points his hook at her neck before turning it towards the exit of the ship. “It’ll be best of ye left now before I hook ya”
“Whatever, but your nothing without me, NOTHING!”.
“Say hello to Jack for me love!” You yell out resulting in a growl from her.
As Uma stomps back into her mothers chip shop Gil hands you the pixie dust. Quickly hiding it inside your jacket you start to walk off the ship
“I have to get this to Auradon somehow. To keep it safe. But until then I’ll have to hide it in one of my father’s chamed bottles.”
“Where is this bottle?” Harry tilts his head to the side while Gil looks at something in the distance.
“Mabey if i can sneak…” Gil starts pulling at your shirt pointing into the distance.
“What is it Gil” Gil grabs your shoulders turning you around directing you back onto the ship. “What’s gotten into you?”
Before Gil can answer you, your father’s voice echos from behind you.
“(Y/N) what are you doing here with them. You were ment to be home hours ago. You must come home with me now or you’ll know what will happen” He goes to grab your arm but you pull away. Gil holds onto your shoulders tighter while Harry watch’s from the side with a confused look on his face.
Gil knows of your father’s violent background towards you. He’s offered many times for you to stay on the ship with him. But you always declined saying that it was a one off thing and it would never happen again.
Gil pulls you back as you shake your head. “No.” Your father’s face darkens at your answer. “What do you mean no. I am your father, you listen to what I say. I am not afraid to hurt you infront of them.” He goes to punch your face but is cut off by Harry pushing him away from you.
Your father laughs as he stands up facing Harry. “Well what do we know the girl has a knight in shinning armor.“
Gil pulls you behind him as your father goes to hit Harry. You cover your mouth afraid that he will hurt Harry but he’s to quick for your dad.
In one quick step Harry trips your father, making him fall off the ship. Gil looks over the edge making sure he’s gone while Harry walks over to you.
You didn’t notice that you were crying until Harry wipes a tear from your face. As he pulls you into a hug he mumbles into your hair. “I’m sorry that ye father’s like that princess. Ye do relise now that I’m not letting ye go back home with him” nodding your head you look of in the direction to your house.
“I’ll have to get my things first Harry, I’ll be back in half an hour.” Before you can walk of the ship again a hand tightens around your wrist.
“I’m comming with ye, if ye like it or not.” Harry follows you with Gil running up behind you. “Don’t think you can leave me behind to.”
While Harry was distracted with some kids trying to steal of him, Gil pulls you to the side. “I thought you told me that he stoped.” You looked away from Gil “You and I both know that he will never change.” Stepping away from Gil you notice the sadlook in his eyes.
“I’m sorry” you whisper before catching up to Harry. Gil follows you but he keeps his distance.
With your dad still back at the ship you quickly jump into your room, funding your over the shoulder bag. Once you fill it with your favourite clothes and nessesities you pass it to Gil through the window “Hold this while I go find the bottle” he nods at your request and continues to guard the window with Harry.
You quickly run down to your father’s study grabbing an enchanted bottle and his spell book. You hide them under your clothes before returning back to the boys.
“Lets get out of here before he returns” you grab your over the shoulder bag off Gil, to his protest and climb down the fire stairwell.
You stay in a comfortable silence as you walk past multiply stalls. You see a dark blue head scarf just like the one Harry used to bandage your arm the night before. You felt bad that you ruined his favourite scarf so you stole that one making sure they didn’t notice. Hidding it inside your bag, you enter the tunnel that leads you to the ship.
You took the long way around to avoid any chance of running into your father. After a minute of walking Harry stops you buy grabbing your hand. Gil continues to walk off not noticing that you two stoped.
“(Y/N) How long has he been like that to ye?” You look away from Harry. “Been like what?” You see him clench his jaw as he takes a step closer to you.
“Ye know what I mean. I heard ye whispering to Gil” your eyes start to sting from past memories but you shrug it off. “Its not important”
Before you can walk away again, he backs you up against the wall. “(Y/N), Please, tell me.”
You stay quiet looking at everything but him. Your eyes lock with his and your heart breaks. “He..He hurt me. Mentally and physically.” You whisper clenching onto your stomach. He looks down at your sudden movement, reaching out to your shirt.
He looks at you “can I see?” You nod, even tho you don’t want him to see what you hide. He gently lifts your shirt up, his eyes go wide. Multiply cuts, scars and new bruises cover your skin. He covers your stomach back up and pulls you into a hug.
“I should’ve been there for ye. I should’ve protected ye.” You shrug your shoulders turning away from him. “It’s not your fault. I left, so you wouldn’t see this and treat me like some broken girl”
He pulls away from you, holding your shoulders “I would say that ye'r the stongest girl that I’ve ever met.” He tucks a peice of hair behind your ear. He starts to lean in until you realise something. “Were’s Gil?”
So I heard from Linda that your little nerd friend... Philip was it? is going to substitute for the Algebra 1 class.
*SIGH* its ALPHYS. and so what? she had to muster up alot of courage to make that decision.
And yet, we're not going to let it happen. There's already enough of you monsters plaguing the school, and we definitely don't need one that can barely go two sentences without sweating all over herself. It's disgu-
im just gonna stop you right there. one, quit talkin shit about my friend. and two, you dont know a damn thing about her. so what if she gets alil flustered easily? underneath all that stuttering is a genius. put her in a position she's passionate about, aka a subject she knows like the back of her hand, and she'll surprise you. so pipe tf down, Helen.
*scoffs* Now you listen here you sad excuse for a parent, this school doesn't need anymore-
you know what, since we're on the topic of math, how bout a word problem to adequately sum up how much i care about what you're tryna say: Sam has two baskets, one empty and the other filled with cool stuff. each cool thing represents a fuck he gives. he gives the empty basket to Haley. How many fucks does Sam give?
*fuming* T-That's the dumbest problem I've ever-
cant answer such a basic question? that explains your kid.
Alphys will substitute the class. anymore issues about it and you and Linda'll be in for a real bad time, capiche? oh and btw... Sam didn't give a fuck.
Title: My Heart Is Yours / AO3 Length: 3.7k Rating: T for language Summary: Poe and Reader fight regarding Poe’s recklessness, and this time, it results in a break up. But when Poe returns bloodied and bruised from an assignment, the one thing on his mind is to make things right with Reader again.
*pauses* Yeah! There is something I would like to know. Are you my friend?
Griffin narrating John:
The smile drops from his face, and he stands up and I think he reaches out his hand---with the fire---but he pulls it back down, and-uh-he kinda shakes his head and he says
What am I doing?
And he looks out the window for, like, a minute without talking... and he turns back to you and says
To, have friendship, Merle, it requires you to... Love someone and be invested in your shared happiness and these things, Merle, friendship and love and happiness.... They're -they're all so... Small. In the grand scheme of things, Merle, they last a second. And I just don't, *sighs*. What bring you happiness, Merle? I know that the game is over but... Wha-what brings you joy, Merle, please I- give me this freebie- I'm-just tell me.
What brings me joy.... is... Life. I think you've can find joy---anywhere, in life. I think it's a conscience choice. I think you- you choose joy. In life, and no matter how bad things are-no matter how crummy-no matter how dark.... You find joy. I found joy, honest to god, gettin' to know ya! I found joy playing chess with ya! I find joy in whatever I do! I don't always do things right 'nd I don't always do things smart, but whatever I do... I find joy in it, because at the end of the day, thats all ya got! You can always come back to the joy ya had, to the joy ya found, to the joy you gave other people!
Uhm, I think his back is turned to you for most of this as he just kinda looks out the window. He says
I think there was probably a time where I had joy- where I e-experienced fleeting happiness or anger or fear but god, it's just been so long. Merle, I... I used to spend my days considering the nature of time and existence- maybe that brought me joy, once, but unlike everybody else whoever thought about those questions, whoever pondered the meaning of it all... I, and you may find this hard to believe, but, I solved it, Merle, I saw the fullness of time. I- I pondered eternity and was the first person, and only person, to successfully visualize it's treacherous arch.
He sits back down-uh-across the chess board from you and he says
You're a man of the cloth, Merle, certainly you've wondered too about what awaits our conscienceness after death or-
and he laughs. He says
Perhaps for some people who think about it, ther-theres nothing but infinite oblivion that the eternal erasure of your conscienceness or-fo-for some it's eternal life and their god's glorious kingdom or eternal cycling through all the inhabitants of their world. Any of these options, Merle, any of them are just, i-erasure or contentment or revival. Any of those are fine as abstract concepts, but eternally, Merle. Eternally? You can't possibly conceive of the length of eternity, Merle. I have. It's maddening and hopeless, but it's this burden we're all saddeled with from the moment of our creation. it's a finishline that by it's definition will never arrive. It stretches forever and ever- it's too ambivilent to even taunt those trapped behind it. It is the cruel price of existence, Merle, and it is too horrible to bear, once you've seen it. Existence, Merle. LIFE, Merle! It's horrible... to exist. To live is... horrible.
And he, kind of, chuckles and he realizes he got a little carried away there.
I don't think I want to hang out with you anymore, John. I think I'm take off... and you can continue... wallowing in your sadness and your oblivion 'nd seein' nothin' but the negative and I'm gonna go on my way... and I tell you what! If we ever meet each other somewhere in infinity, you can apologize to me and tell me you were wrong.
He chuckles a little bit, and he turns towards you and he says-
I'm sorry you feel that way. You're the first person who I've, sorta, talked about this to who hasn't listened. There were... everyone listened, Merle. I'm not being hyperbolic. Every person in the world was swayed. I don't know why you're different... but everyone else listened. Everything! Everyone across out whole plane of existence, ou-our shared vexation, with life, covered the world like a blanket, and soon every bird in the sky and every tree and every forest and every blade of grass and grain of sand, shared our fury, and it wasn't long before... It changed us.
And I think as he's talking, Merle, you see this scene outside this constant orange sunset start to turn inky and black, with these colorful ribbons of light you've seen inside the hunger-so many times. And he says-
We changed our entire plane into something new all together. A single being fueled by discontentment, searching for something bigger than this existence. Regardless of the cost.
He turns towards you and he says-
You call us the Hunger. That's not entirely inaccurate, cause we are hungry, but it would be more accurate to simply call us dissatisfaction, but soon-
and he holds up his hand, and says-
You will call us Ascendant.
Well, we'll see. John? Thanks for the chess game and kiss my ass you sanctimonious bastard.