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#i can only hope that whoever ends up finally loving her does it right.
bby-deerling · 4 months
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Hello! Hope you’re doing good!
I have two request if it’s no problem with you (please please please write both only if you can 🙏🏻)
One is a Sanji x reader where in pre time skip reader would flirting with Sanji, everybody on the crew notices (even Zoro and Lucy) but Sanji never does (in this house we love oblivious Sanji) and it’s until the post time skip where everyone is together again where reader is like “I used to have a big crush on you, like flirted with you everyday type of crush” and Sanji being like “that’s not true” and the crew is like “nope, reader always flirted, you’re just oblivious” (and finish whoever you want, can be funny platonic or actually end up together)
And request two: Zoro x Reader where reader is a runaway prince/princess (who is with the strawhats because they wanted to sail and live adventures) and when some guards found them they took reader to their kingdom so reader marries someone else (basically Whole Cake arc but instead of Sanji is reader) and Zoro realizes his feelings for reader when the strawhats plans to rescue reader and go save them
If you only want to write one it’s okay! Choose you’re favorite one! This are some ideas I had on the weekend. Thanks for writing and sharing fics, all are damn good!
Have a nice day!
hello sweet anon! thank you so much for the requests! i may revisit that zoro request later, but the sanji one is really speaking to me right now!
dense (sanji x gn!reader fluff)
wc: 469 masterlist
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“You know,” Brook says, sipping on his cup of tea, “out of everyone I expected Sanji to end up in an arranged marriage with against his will, I would have thought it would be you!  YO-HO-HO-HO!”
Blood rushes to your cheeks as the rest of the crew, save for the cook, erupts into laughter, embarrassed at the skeleton bringing up your blatant and unrequited crush on Sanji.  After two years apart, you had finally been able to come to terms that your feelings weren’t returned, and had toned down your shameless flirting.   You don’t normally mind when your crewmates tease you for the way you used to throw yourself at the cook, after all it was equal parts funny and embarrassing, as long as the jokes weren’t made in front of him.
“What do you mean?” Sanji asks, sleeves rolled up as he washes dishes at the sink.
“How noble of you to protect their dignity.” the skeleton muses, leaning back in his chair.  Sanji simply looks puzzled, seemingly feigning surprise as to what he was talking about.
“Come on Sanji, you’re making it worse by acting like you don’t know!” Nami scolds, squeezing your shoulder in sympathy as she notices your eyes are fixed on the floor.
“I apologize, Nami, I’m really at loss—” he starts, only to be interrupted by Luffy.
“There’s no way you don’t know that they were in love with you!  Even I knew that!” he exclaims.  “Also, is there any meat—”
“They’re what?” Sanji spits out, jaw hanging on the floor.
“Is that what the tension was about?” Jinbe asks, and Brook nods in response.
The cook’s eyes are fixed on you, scrutinizing every aspect of your face in hopes that this was all a bit and that he truly wasn’t so clueless as to miss any sign of your affections for him.
“Don’t look so surprised, Sanji.  I practically threw myself at you for months.” you say, unwilling to meet his stare.
“Seriously, Sanji, they flirted with you every single day and you never reciprocated!  It was pathetic to watch!” Nami explains, making you flush even more red.
The cook redirects his attention to the sink, staring into the cool metal and focusing on the feeling of smoke filling his lungs.  Was he really that oblivious?  “Excuse me…” he mumbles, abandoning the rest of the dishes to slink out of the kitchen.
Luffy, Brook, and Nami explode into laughter as the door shuts and your face burns red.
“You gonna go after him?” Nami asks you with a sly smile after she catches her breath.  You shake your head, trying to keep some semblance of your pride intact.
"I’ve waited long enough, he can come to me.” you say, arms crossed but secretly pleased that perhaps your feelings weren’t as unrequited as they seemed.
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darkdemeter · 2 months
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(OLD VAR.) THE GOLD OF WINTER: PRINCESS OF THEATRICS
The DARK DEMETER WRITING CATALOGUE, BUCKY BARNES COLUMN #1 —
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—- not my gifs, credit to original posters! -—
Dark! Mob & Bodyguard! Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier x Female Reader
A/N — It took a little bit to get my ideas into the document but I finally did it! just a la dash of procrastination and writer brain turning off the second I tried to write. Ya know, the fun stuff. But can we just appreciate the gif combo for a second? Hehe, I love it! I had no idea how to begin the first chapter until I put these two together.
WORD COUNT — 3.2k
READER DISCRETION — Mob related stuff — accusations and eluded to sensitive/potential triggering stuff (Bucky's a good boy though, he didn't do anything) — reader being a complete brat and princess — reader is also kinda a bitch? — minor negative name calling (psychopath term is used) — pet names used by parents — Reader does call her father "daddy"... and yes, I was uncomfortable when writing that but it also felt authentic for character. Kill me. — Tony says hi btw — semi-dark Bucky — Winter Soldier mindset bc this boy wants to protect — I think that's it?
— NEXT COLUMN
SUMMARY — You enjoy the finer things in life, that much is certain. But does that enjoyment extend over to your new bodyguard being present in your room while you were unconscious? Well then, you're in for quite the wake up call, Princess of theatrics. Will your father end up doing what he does best when it comes to his beloved daughter crying about it?
You believed it all to be some bad dream. That’s what you convince yourself during the time spent in your bath with a hulking mass of a man just a door away. Locked, but with a simple kick of one strong leg and that lock’s usefulness expires. So much for keeping your composure, you would put your mother and grandmother both in their graves at the poor display of panic, not to say that you didn’t at least try, but the man’s warning against your resolve to arm yourself broke something inside you. Overall, you had become a deer in headlights under his penetrative gaze. 
Cold eyes that are the sort that have seen some shit, and the direct hold they had on your very soul keep you anchored in the bath. You cannot move. Not yet. You’re not ready to face him again just yet but the water is growing lukewarm quickly. Soon enough it will become chilly against the palette of your skin. 
Never has a man’s eyes made your skin come alight, like something coolly searing the under of your skin, and strike fear so absolute into your heart to the point. Everything about him screamed the utter opposite of your previous guards. They were the white collar unit of professionalism. This man, whoever he was or claimed to be, is the striking resemblance of a wolf on the loose. A fiend with a threatening hue to his otherwise pair of admirable blue eyes.
Leaving the bath and only sanctuary, you feel a sense of dread sinking into the pit of your stomach. What if he kills you the moment you go back into your room? 
He assured you he was your new bodyguard but that couldn’t be right. No, it was all just some fever dream. How much did you drink at the party? Nevermind, you don’t want to think about the champagne you consumed tonight. 
If you just go to bed then everything will go back to normal in the morning. You dress yourself, albeit slowly to draw out the virus of thoughts that he was anything but a figment of your imagination, a silk and lace chemise nightgown falls over the curves of your body and grazes the tops of your thighs, after that you ensure your hair is soothed by the creams to keep it maintained. As an extra layer of protection, you hoped it wasn’t needed when you realise your champagne induced hallucination was gone, you pull your robe over your shoulders and fold the near transparent fabric over your breasts. 
There. That will… ugh, forget about it. 
Now you’re starting to sound just like your father. Forget about it. 
“Okay,” you breathe to yourself, “it’s no big deal. This is all… this is all just some, uh, weird dream. I’m going to go back in there and go to sleep. I have to sleep this off.” You nod to yourself in the reflection of your misted bathroom mirror. You can do this. 
 Finally you turn to the door of the ensuite to brave the face of the nightmare that lurked in your room. But the moment you unlock that door and take a step forward, you make direct eye contact with the masked man standing not even a few feet away from the bathroom door and your vision goes dark. 
You don’t remember making it to the bed. You black out before you could make it through the ensuite threshold before blackness consumes you. 
Sunlight pours through the sheer curtains in streams of muffled brightness. The purest form of alarm to wake you from that horrendous experience of a nightmare. But it’s over now. Today is to be a new day and you have much to do. There’s no time to dwell on such dark themes. 
With a relaxed sigh of contentment and shoulders lowering, you sit up from the comfort of your mattress, the fabric smooth against the contours of your skin, wisps of hair sweep over the frame of your face and you have to tuck them back in an easy-to-win battle with the smooth locks. The joys of having perfect hair was not all it seemed. Even you were the target of messy bed hair, at least you had the decency to make it look hot. 
But it’s all short lived. 
That’s when your lax expression commits to a complete 180 and your brows knit together, confused by how you’re suddenly in your bed when last you remember, you were over there…
You can see him out of the corner of your eye, seated right there in one of the twin, cream and plush chairs located in the corner by the tall window panels that overlook your balcony. The come to reality moment is bursting through that bubble, your perfect little world, is on the brink of collapse as it pounds on the protective shield around you. 
It wasn’t a bad dream. It happened. At a snail’s pace do you engage your attention fully to that corner and you suddenly wish you hadn’t. He’s staring at you without an ounce of shame in those bright blue and unblinking eyes, his body far too large and rigid in his seat. Even in the light of day he still carries that aura that threatens you silently but not directly at you. 
His mere presence doesn’t seem to mean you any harm, any offence or threat yet it still does. 
Something in your jaw loses its ability to function and your chin drops. Oh, but how your vocals work just fine. You barely register the formation of a pained wince etched into the top portion of his covered face, you’re far too engrossed in shrieking in sheer terror and leaping off the giant marshmallow you call a bed. 
This was not how your morning was supposed to go.
He offers no apology for his invasion of your privacy nor any words to reinstate why his presence is still in your room. You have to sleep here! It’s your room. Not his. Granted that you don’t even give him the chance but you held your reservations he would say anything of the kind. He didn’t exude the type to apologise for doing what he apparently wanted or needed to do.
You’ve taken to sprinting down the hall as fast as your legs can carry you. You don’t match the speed of a cheetah, even entertaining the thought that you can outrun him, given his record time to cross the mere space of your room in seconds, you at least try to make an effort. 
The halls once familiar to wander through now feel like a maze you cannot figure out. They wind and bend every which way to confuse you as your brooding visitor stalks after you, the rhythm of his heavy clad footfall, in which pursues you is eerily calm yet too quick to lag far behind. 
Shit, even when you’re running full pelt he still manages to keep up with you with his powerful strides. 
What chills you deep to your core is that his piercing blue eyes keep a laser focus on you. Never once do they falter from your fleeting form. 
A game of cat and mouse but max the cat’s size to that of a tiger and you have an accurate portrayal for how small you feel under his watchful eyes alone. Any closer, like he had been last night, and the difference is noticeable without fail. 
The halls echo with your terrorised screams and pleaful cries for your parents’ intervention. Your father is the King of the mob world. He’d sort this roguish man out without a doubt. Just the sight of you alone would be enough to put your pursuer behind bars, the possibilities were endless for his crimes of scaring you half to death and proceeding to reside in your bedroom without your consent or knowledge.
Ignoring the questionable stares of your staff, you sprint through the patio archways and down the few steps into the hedge garden, the lush cushion of clean cut grass is soft and warm against your bare feet. 
Just a glance behind you and he’s on your tail, flanking you hard and fast. 
“Princess.” His voice booms through his dark mask. You don’t listen to his order that compels you to quit while you’re ahead. Just like the gun in your drawer he caught onto. The move you make next is tricky and almost costs you your balance as you slip around the hedge corner. 
For a split moment you actually believe you finally gave him the slip in the green maze when you cut around another corner sharply. 
The sweet relief you feel when you see the poolside cabana - occupied by your parents - and with other witnesses, you could have cried right then and there. Perfect. He couldn’t do anything to you when your parents were around. 
“Daddy! Dad, Help me! DADDY!”
Your voice cracks under the weight of your distressed state. For a moment you see pure fear wash over your father’s visage like a white flush. Your mother, strangely yet so knowingly, portrays an excellence of calm despite your frantic self barrelling towards them. 
The eyes each belonging to several men seated alongside them in the cabana turn to you, curiosity in their brows as they pull down hard in their confusion. Whatever could have you screaming the entire mansion down like the walls of jericho?
“My precious golden flower, what’s wrong?” His shoulders are square as he stands tall and firm, arms held out to hold you when you then proceed to crash into him. His body is momentarily stunned that it flinches from the rushed contact.
“There’s a man! There’s a man chasing after me, h-he was in m-my room last night– Daddy, you have to do something–”
“Ah, I take it that’s him.” One of the men utter from his spot, fully immersed in the comfort of his seat in the sun to bask in the seriousness of your problem. A very dire problem at that. You’re chased down by a ruffian and nobody is so much as asking if you’re alright or checking you over, doting upon you. 
The sight of you ducking behind your father, robe flowing behind you with such elegance, is considered in a gamble whether it was worth the trouble you’ve put the man after you through. Who knew you’d be such a handful of top tier drama that puts the most obnoxious soap operas to shame.
You squeak behind the suited wall of your father, “that’s him, get him away from me Daddy, please! Get him away.” 
The other wall of walking leather, straps and buckles, metal arm reflecting a powerful amount of sun it catches in your eyes and blinds you for a few seconds, he surges forward with unbridled restraint to reach you until he’s mere feet from you and your father, whose stern facade instantly cracks with a boisterous laugh. With a visage of utter shock your head snaps in the direction of your mother, the means and dependency of her support now critical on her, the older woman whom you respect without measure, smirks over the rim of her teacup. 
So much for the support you had hoped to garner. You would need to go into witness protection because of this guy. 
Why is nobody doing anything?! Do they not see the madness in this? 
“Oh, my darling princess,” your father dares to coo softly as if speaking to you as if you’re a child, “you needn’t be afraid of him.”
“I find that very hard to believe! I demand you remove him from my sight at once.” 
To place more distance between yourself and the man your father claims means you no harm, you move until you’re hiding behind the safeguard that is your mother. You pace back and forth in the safety of your newfound distance, palm pressed to your forehead. “Somebody get him away from me, please? I cannot begin to fathom the audacity of this. He was in my room last night–”
“My child, you’re being a tad bit dramatic about this.” 
It’s your mother who scolds your behaviour, however much she adores you she always scorned your tendencies to be a dramatic flare, waving about until your flame for theatrics burnt out. But this isn’t one of those times that the stylist messed up your hair or switched out your outfit last minute before you went on the runway. 
No. This is serious. This man could have done anything to you while you slept. Even though you appear to be clear of any bruises or anything else of a more nefarious nature, the point still stands. You shake your head in her adamant stance. Like a pouting child you stomp your feet when the problem is not resolved your way and in a moment’s instant. Any other man and your father would have the man cropped at the knee before being ruthlessly beaten to a bloody pulp, only to then be locked away in the trunk to be dealt with off property. 
“Father!” you shriek angrily that your cheeks flush a bright hue of red. The company surrounding you swears by it they see steam flare out your nose. The man in tactical gear takes one step forward and you flinch. If he dared to take one more step towards you and you would have no choice but to throw yourself into the pool. As humiliating as that would be and for a man you’re repeatedly told won’t hurt you, he sure isn’t building his case to be trustworthy of such an oath. Your parents both have not seen this visceral of a reaction from you since you saw that spider in your changing room.
But this is completely different. 
“Sweetheart, this is the Winter Soldier. He’s been assigned as your new bodyguard. I swear it, darling, he will not hurt you.” Your mother delivers such news with such a nonchalant attitude it leaves you in a state of shock. 
How you want to believe their words and in all honesty, you almost do out of a habit to blindly trust in the bond between parent and child. But you refute their assurances. You’re in denial at this point because there is no way in hell that any of this is your new reality. It can’t be!
Your father sighs to himself. The hard lines in his brows says it all, that this is the new set of circumstances. The new norm of your life. His eyes  implore you to listen. “Mr Stark credits his efforts, my dear. The world’s most esteemed and dangerous assassin to safeguard you. You have absolutely nothing to fear.”
“Quite right.” Said man, Mr Stark, finally puts to bed the case with one of the most prideful smirks you’ve ever seen grace a man’s face. And it wasn’t that of the sleazy, untrustworthy kind too. No, he knew and held a stronghold of faith to his words. 
“The Winter Soldier is the best security a young and beautiful woman like you can have. There are many dangers but with him around, a fly won’t so much as bother you.”
You continue to pace where you still feel at ease without the closeness of your so-called bodyguard and his holstered breath beating down your neck. “So you hired a six-foot-behemoth of a psychopath to be my new form of security, without telling me about it?” 
The soldier’s head tilts ever so slightly to the side as the bevel between his dark brows deepens. His bright blue eyes that stare at you with such focused intensity narrow and that pang of fear returns. 
Your father calmly raises a hand and out of habit your spitfire instantly ceases on the tip of your tongue. “It was not my intention to alarm you, my darling princess. But this is the only way to ensure you are out of harm's way. Now more than ever, rivals vie for the power we have. I must know that you will be protected at all costs.”
“But dad–”
“I will hear no more arguments about it. Do I make myself clear?”
The muscle in your throat bobs gently as you swallow, eyes scanning the soldier from head to toe. He may have not hurt you before but now you weren’t entirely sure. You did technically call him unstable and perhaps, even to yourself now, that was an insensitive call. Now you may very well have to worry about actually waking up without a slit throat. 
You finally nod when your father reinforces his command, this time his tone is far more stern akin to the level he uses to order his men. 
In the world of mobsters, your father is the first and single man you never want to cross nor upset. But now another rises high on a competing pedestal and he stands no less than several feet away from you. “Yes, Father.”
“Good,” your father says with a sigh of relief and he begins to usher you off, “now if I recall correctly, you have some business to attend to in New York. The jet is taking off in less than an hour so I suggest you get a move on.”
You appear to have the look of a fish out of water. “W-wait a second–”
Still your father attempts to shoo you away with one hand as the other beckons forward the Winter Soldier and to his order, the towering behemoth you now call bodyguard steps towards you. Like a skittish bunny you begin to freak out. 
“Daddy! No, no, what are you suggesting? Dad, no, he’s not going to New York with me. He can’t!” 
“Flower, he has to. He’s your bodyguard, now I have business to get to with Mr Stark and his crew. If you will excuse me.”
“You’re in good hands, my love,” your mother calls after you, you don’t catch the wide and plotting smirk plastered over her red-stained lips, too engrossed in the bickering both you and your father participate in. “He’s not coming,” you huff and your father’s lips form that thin line. He silently questions why you fight him so vigorously with every fibre in your being. “He’s not coming to New York with me. It’s not happening.”
Anything for the daughter of the King, right?
Wrong. Not this time. 
Metal fingers ghost over the small of your back as he directs you away from your father, your line of safety. He’s to be your new line of security, of safety, but his loyalty is a question at play in your mind like a record repeating the same beat of music. 
You can smell the texture of leather on him and what’s worse, a chill wracks down the column of your spine when his hot breath pants over the exposed flesh of your shoulder, unguarded by your robe. 
How were you going to concentrate on the day ahead? A photoshoot appointment in two hours in New York City, a lunch and shopping spree with friends in the city, and to top it all off you were to attend an art gala that evening.
You hope your new bodyguard doesn’t see the way your face flushes in embarrassment at the recollection that your photoshoot was for a new lingerie line. 
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TREEHOUSE TAGLIST —
@identity2212 @sebastianstansqueen @openup-yourmind @kandis-mom @calwitch
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bishopsbeloved · 2 months
Text
the art of falling in love (part three)
natasha romanoff x fem reader
best friend!yelena belova, aroace!yelena belova, internalised homophobia, found family trope, coming of age, angst, fluff (eventual happy ending)
part one | part two | part three (3.7k words) | part four | part five | epilogue
read this fic on ao3!
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But that awful feeling doesn’t go away… quite the contrary, it grows and grows. It’s a dark and hidden part of you, diseased, something you seek desperately to rid yourself of — but it only festers and worsens with the more time you spend with your love.
Yet being away from her is out of the question. The feeling only worsens whenever you’re away from her; an unbridled monster that dwells deep within the caverns of your chest, and bursts out at the most inopportune of moments. A tiny voice in the back of your head warns you that you’re turning into someone unrecognisable. You ignore it. Because you finally have the girl of your dreams, Natasha Romanoff, the one you’ve loved as long as you can remember.
“Whoever is this mystery girl you are dating, I do not like her,” Yelena says to you one day. It’s about a month now since  the catastrophic spring break party at Tony’s house, and five months since the New Year’s party which began this whole mess. The two of you have been tasked with slicing vegetables for Melina, who is bustling busily around the stove. When Yelena speaks you have to physically pause to process her words, for fear you may otherwise slice straight through your own flesh as if it were another carrot.
“Mystery girl?” says Melina interestedly. “I did not know there was a mystery girl. How did I miss this? Y/N, sweetheart, you have a mystery girl and you have not brought her home yet?”
You glare at Yelena, and she smiles sweetly back.
“Nothing serious, ma,” you say to Melina as levelly as you can before turn to Yelena. “What do you mean, you don’t like her?” you ask, resuming your vegetable cutting. You try to ignore the shake of your hands and the beat of your heart. “You don’t even know who she is.” You hope, anyway.
She shrugs nonchalantly, as if she were discussing the weather rather than the affairs of your heart. “I don’t have to, to not like how she makes you feel. You are so different now, I do not like it. You are all sad and quiet and far away.”
“No I’m not,” you say in a small voice, fighting to hold back a tremble. You can only imagine the words she’d be saying if she knew it was her sister she was talking about.
“Yes, see!” says Yelena triumphantly, like you’ve just proven her point. “I say one thing and you are about to cry. Before you would hit me and we would be done.”
“You should not waste time on anyone who doesn’t treat you right, my sweet heart,” says Melina more tactfully, setting down her wooden spoon to cup your face in her gentle weathered hands. “You deserve the world. Find someone who gives you it.”
Your eyes do well up after she says that, and you have to turn away and blink rapidly so that Yelena doesn’t give you one of her knowing looks. To her credit, if she sees, she doesn’t say anything.
But Melina’s words weigh heavy on you, even after the conversation moves on — as though they’ve placed a physical burden upon your shoulders. They echo in your mind as you excuse yourself from the conversation and trudge upstairs, past the door of the very one they’re unknowingly warning you of. They play on repeat even as you’re beckoned into the bedroom of your secret paramour, who tells you to lock the door behind you. She’s sat on her bed, watching a Bond movie on her laptop, mouthing along to every word like she usually does. 
“C’mere,” she says to you, patting the space between her legs. You obey wordlessly, sitting down between them with your back against her chest. Her arms wrap around you, tugging you closer, and her chin settles comfortably on your shoulder.
“Missed you,” she mumbles, sending shivers down your spine even as your troubled mind dwells on Mama Melina’s words.
You deserve the world, she repeats to you as Natasha begins to drop kisses along your neck, and you shift involuntarily in her lap. She groans and bucks up against you.
“You’re so pretty,” she murmurs against the skin of your collarbone, tugging at your shirt to trail her kisses lower. Natasha is your world, you think to yourself. And when she gives herself to you in moments like this, who are you to say it’s not enough? You remind yourself to be grateful every day that she sees fit to give you anything, to engage with you at all after she’s been so out of reach your entire life.
So as her kisses become lower and more insistent, you submit yourself to her completely, willing to do whatever pleases her. Because she is your world, and you would do anything for her — for better or for worse.
Unfortunately for you, though, Yelena does not seem to be the only one who’s noticed a shift in your behaviour.
Prom isn’t for another six or seven weeks, but already your classmates have begun the most over the top promposals you could think of, with each trying to outdo the last. It was only a few days ago that Bucky Barnes asked Steve Rogers to prom by writing “PROM?” on his back in sunscreen and then laying in the sun until the rest of him burnt. Rumour has it he tore off his shirt in front of their whole homeroom like some budget Superman knockoff. (Rumour also has it that Steve said yes. You’re not quite sure what to make of that.) (Well, at least you don’t have to worry about Bucky and Natasha anymore?) The halls are filled with hushed whispers of who might ask who next, and what methods they might choose to do so. And naturally, with Darcy being one of your closest friends, it is literally all you hear about when you are on the school premises.
…and Loki Laufeyson tells me Vision is thinking of asking you to prom, Wanda, Darcy signs triumphantly. You and your friend group are huddled around a table in the corner of the school library, supposedly studying, but with prom on the way that was never gonna happen. (The school librarian, Ms Harkness, is deathly serious about her no noise rules, but naturally as a friend group with a Deaf person in it that doesn’t really apply to you, so you often find yourselves in here.)
Since when were you on such good terms with Loki? asks Makkari with sceptically narrowed eyes.
Since the Stark party at Easter, comes Darcy’s confident reply. We did a science fair project together and now we’re totally friends. And they are very sure Vision has something planned.
I wouldn’t take it too seriously if it’s Loki telling you that, Wanda says dryly. They love to gossip. I don’t know Vision Stark, I’ve barely ever spoken to him. He kinda runs in the opposite way whenever he sees me.
He’s nervous, Darcy tells her knowingly. The guy’s scared of his own shadow, but he’s not too bad once he relaxes a bit. Give him a chance, I think you’d really like him. And also he apparently has neared a state of cardiac arrest several times trying to pluck up the courage to ask you out.
Wanda hums, and chews on her lip thoughtfully.
And you, Y/N, Darcy turns her gaze onto you now, you’ve had nothing going on for months. Have you got your eye on anyone?
Your tongue feels heavy in your mouth as you shake your head no. I’m content where I am now, you say, which isn’t really a lie. Because you are happy. Right?
Darcy only shrugs before turning to Yelena, who is sat next to you while she gazes out of the window, zoned out as she often is whenever talk turns to romance. You nudge her gently with your foot and she turns, blinking out of her daydream. “Hmm? What—?”
“Shhh,” you all remind her instantly, as Ms Harkness’s head snaps up from the paperwork she was just bent over at her desk.
Sorry, Yelena rectifies hastily. What’s up?
Prom, you inform her, biting back a laugh at the way her face comically drops into one that’s very unamused.
I know you and Bishop didn’t work out, but do you have anyone else who might ask you to prom?
You look over at your best friend anxiously. Yelena has not really come out to anyone, only casually mentioning her aromanticism over dinner, to which Melina and Alexi barely batted an eyelid. Darcy does not seem to be picking up on the hints, though.
If anyone asked me, I would say no , Yelena tells her bluntly . I don’t do that stuff. Me and Y/N go together. Right, Y/N?
With matching outfits, you add helpfully.
We are going to serve, Yelena agrees, and the two of you low-five.
You can tell Darcy has more questions, but before she can press either of you any further the bell rings, signalling the end of free period. The four of you get to your feet, piling belongings back into your bags, and Makkari follows your example once she sees what you’re doing.
You end up falling behind at the back of the group, with Wanda next to you. She’s looking at you curiously, as though she’s seeing right through you, and you fidget uncomfortably.
Are you sure you’re happy? she asks you. The question hits you like a punch to the gut. Because you have not seemed it, lately.
You nod and smile weakly at her, and to her credit she pushes no further, but much like Melina’s words it weighs heavy on your mind long after she’s forgotten about it. You are happy, aren’t you? You are. You are happy. You have the girl of your dreams, for fuck’s sake. Of course you’re happy.
And that’s true, for the most part. You’re happy when you’re with her — and when you can switch your brain off around her, instead of pining what more you could have. Because this is all you have. All you’ll ever have. And every day you wake up, fearing that this is the day she’ll end whatever is between you, and cast you aside like the doll she’s done playing with.
But you must not seem that happy to other people, because it’s only a few hours later that you are questioned yet again — this time by Sam Wilson, who it is considerably more difficult to be upset with.
“Hey, Y/N/N,” he calls down the hall as he spots you, awkwardly half-running to catch up with you. Last period has just ended, and you’re making your way to the science lab that you know Yelena just had a class in. You smile at him when you recognise him, and slow down until he matches your pace. Since that night he helped you out at the party the two of you have been talking a lot more, and you’ve found yourself really enjoying his company. You’ve never really been too good at making friends — if you didn’t have Yelena, your other half, you don’t know what you’d do — but things seem to come naturally with him. He’s very calming to be around, and he never makes you feel as though you’re supposed to be something that you’re not.
“What’s up, Wilson?” you greet him.
“I gotta bone to pick with you,” he says with half-hearted annoyance, even as he grins at you. You blink up at him in quiet confusion. “How come you stood me up yesterday night? You said you’d meet me out by the east block and you left me hangin’. We were supposed to go to Boulevard, remember?”
You groan and tilt your head back as you realise he’s right. The two of you have recently picked up a habit of hanging out at the arcade on the Boulevard after school for a couple nights a week. (He’s a beast at Donkey Kong, and you will never in your life be able to beat his high score, but you always manage to put up a good fight when you versus in Mortal Kombat.)
“I’m sorry,” you say quietly. “I didn’t mean to, I swear.”
“Are you sure?” he asks jokingly. “Cause you skipped out on the one before that too.”
“I’m really sorry,” you weakly offer. “I just…” Well, what the fuck kind of excuse are you supposed to offer? I’m sorry, my secret girlfriend slash love of my life will only spend time with me in private because she’s ashamed of me? “…I don’t know. I’ve kinda been all over the place lately. Sorry.”
“Yeah, no shit. What’s going on, man, are you okay?”
“Yeah,” you say, and you’re horrified at the moment at that your voice trembles. “No, I’m good. Seriously. Just stressed for finals,” you try tentatively, and you’re relieved at the way he just nods sympathetically.
“Well if you need a distraction, I’m free tonight,” he offers hopefully. You instinctively open your mouth to deny him, but when you see the way he’s poised and ready to accept your inevitable denial you pause guiltily. Why are you saying no and standing him up if he’s your friend? Your alternate itinerary for tonight is sitting around annoying Yelena and hoping that Nat will want to spend time with you tonight. This sounds way more fun.
A distraction. A distraction from the feeling clawing at your insides, which won’t let you sleep at night until you get that goodnight text.
“A distraction sounds good,” you say, and he grins back at you. Only a moment later Yelena’s class comes flooding out of the science lab, and your beloved blonde Russian approaches you. You’re glad to see she’s recovering some of the usual bounce in her step, after last month’s mishap.
“Come on, Natasha is giving us a ride,” she tells you excitedly, offering Sam a brief nod.
“Actually, can you tell her make my own way home? Me and Sam are hitting the Boulevard.”
“Alright. But if you win enough tickets can you get me that stuffed otter they have in the window,” she asks hopefully, and beams when you nod. “You are the best. And don’t forget to call Ma if you won’t be home till late, or —”
“She’ll have a heart attack, I know,” you say patiently. “Love you.”
Natasha probably won’t even notice you’re gone. She won’t mind.
Famous last words.
Sam ends up dropping you home, and the two of you stop by a fast food place on your way, so you’re not home until ten. You stumble into the house with bleary eyes and a bug-eyed, oversized otter tucked under your arm, but a heart fuller than it’s been in a long while, and a smile on your face to match. That smile is quickly wiped off of your face as you turn around and lock eyes with Natasha, who is sat on the top of the stairs. She’s evidently waited up for you.
“Hi. Is Lena still up? I won this for her.” You hold up the otter lamely.
She shrugs, a gesture so small you nearly miss it in the half-light. “I don’t know.” Late at night when she’s tired, tinges of Russian begin to creep back into her otherwise perfectly ironed American accent — she always scowls and makes an effort to fix it whenever you point it out, but to you it’s adorable. It’s like an ever so slight glimpse into the real Natasha, the one who makes you heart-shaped pancakes and remembers the names of all your favourite movies. And in the months that are passing in your relationship you feel like you’re seeing that side to her less and less.
“Are you okay?” she asks quietly after a few moments. “Did you have a good time tonight?”
“Yeah?” you say uncertainly. This feels like a trap. “Y— uh, yeah, I did, thank you.” You swallow, hard, as a pit opens up in your stomach. “Are… are we okay?”
She hesitates. “Are you happy?”
“Huh?”
“With me. When you’re with me. Do you have fun like you did tonight?”
“I don’t know.” Your voice is small and quiet. “I— I don’t know what you want me to say.”
She’s silent. Like she doesn’t even know what she wants from you. Cautiously, gingerly, you speak again.
“I had fun tonight in a way that I can’t with you,” you say carefully. “You never want to spend time with me unless we’re alone. I don’t really know what we are, I know we’re not dating, but it feels… I don’t know.” You pause for a second, and your next words sound uncertain of themselves. “It feels like… you’re ashamed of me.”
The words are finally out of your mouth, at long last. For a moment it’s like a weight has been lifted from your shoulders, but it comes crashing back town twice as heavy when you see the be way your words physically crush her.
“I’m not ashamed of you,” she whispers. “I’m not… I just…” And then she says something so quiet that even as you strain you can’t catch it. “Um. Don’t worry. I’ll see you in the morning.”
And while you do see her in the morning, nothing is the same. So you’re once again the bigger person in this relationship, the one taking care of her (and you’d do it forever, of course), and you give her exactly what you know she needs — some space, and some time. You’re not really sure what’s going through her head right now (you never are, to be honest), but what you do know is that she’d hate to feel smothered as she figures it out for herself. She’s more similar to her sister than she’d like to think. It’ll be okay, you tell yourself. You’ll give her what you know she needs, because sometimes you know her better than she knows herself, and trust that when she’s ready she’ll come to you.
But she doesn’t, and things are rocky between you and your love in the time that passes. Since the night you came home from the arcade, she’s been almost avoiding you. No more good morning or goodnight texts, no secret movie dates in her room, no more stargazing on the rooftop or late night drives. With every day that you wake up and meet her vacant gaze at the breakfast table you lose a little more hope. The end is nigh, you fear; the thing you’ve known all along, the fact that you were just a toy to her that she’ll dispose of when she’s bored, comes creeping back from the distant corner of your mind it was banished to, into the forefront — and you see it everywhere you go. In every tight-lipped look and sleepless night you pray for the end of this purgatory, whether that comes in the form of her embrace or her denial; anything but this wretched liminal space. This in-between where you don’t feel human to her.
Prom night rolls around. You and Yelena have indeed coordinated your outfits, just as planned, and the two of you are going together. (A slight and tiny part of you had hoped that maybe, somehow, Natasha would ask you to prom, and she would be your date. A much bigger part of you knew that would be her idea  of purgatory.)
The two of you are carpooling with your friend group to the school, where your prom will be, in a limo that you all pitched in for. Darcy and Jane Foster, Makkari and Druig, and Wanda and Vision are all already piled in when the limo rolls up in front of your house — the last stop before the night truly begins.
“Interesting choice of interior decor,” Yelena muses, taking in the limo’s pink velvet seats and rhinestone-studded handles with thoughtfully narrowed eyes.
“Darcy picked it,” says Wanda monotonously.
She said we had to go all out for prom, Makkari adds with an eyeroll. The two of them earn lighthearted smacks from the target of their teasing.
You aren’t really sure what you’re actually meant to do at prom. Even in the movies, they’re never really very specific about what prom actually entails.
“What do you think we’ll do?” you ask Yelena, as the two of you hand in your coats to the concierge (a member of the student council who looks very stressed).
She snorts. “Judge people’s outfits, get drunk, take photos and dance, I’d say. I guess some people will be hooking up, too.”
“We will,” adds Darcy with a shameless wink as she passes the two of you, being dragged along by Jane. Your cheeks flush slightly, while Yelena sighs in affectionate long-suffering.
“Any updates on your super-secret girlfriend?” Yelena asks, and the usual guilty feeling pricks at your gut. She, of course, hasn’t been told of the conflict, because you’ve told her as little as possible. You don’t trust yourself to not break down out of guilt otherwise.
You try your best to be optimistic at first, but Yelena’s very quickly proven right. As soon as everyone’s arrived you tick off your first scheduled item on the prom itinerary — judging them — and you move swiftly onto the second.
“This tastes like shit,” you grimace as you sip gingerly from the drink Yelena presents you with. She bursts out laughing.
Before long, you’re feeling pleasantly fuzzy, and perfectly willing to embarrass yourself in front of your classmates on the dancefloor — so when Sam Wilson comes up to you proposing that you dance, twitchy as anything and evidently nervous out of his mind, it doesn’t feel as significant to you as it does to him that you accept.
He kisses your cheek when the dance ends, and you flush violently. But when he offers you his arm you take it, and he’s led along to a quiet afterparty back at Wanda’s house. It’s okay, you tell yourself, to be having fun with someone else. Natasha’s shown no interest in you for more than a month. It’s not that you don’t love her, because you do, but you can’t exactly force her to spend time with you, can you? It can’t cause any harm to have some fun with your friends.
But only a little down the road a certain redhead has shut herself in her room, and begins to ask herself why she’s behaved the way that she has.
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blayresmuses · 1 year
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hii 💕💞💕💞 I really love your work, and the scenario format is turning out amazing!! I'd love to request how the hotd characters act when they're jealous, perhaps?
HOW THEY ACT WHEN JEALOUS
summary: how the hotd characters act when they’re jealous / do they get jealous etc
includes: aemond, aegon, alicent, rhaenyra, daemon, jace & harwin
authors note: hi sweet anon! thank you for being so kind i hope you enjoy these <3
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aemond likes to think he’s above such silly feelings but in reality he isn’t. he adores the time he gets with you and as immature as it is he gets easily aggravated if you pass him over for something or even worse, someone else. he hates to see you smile or laugh at someone else, they’re things that are his, you should be doing that for him. usually he’ll find some random excuse to take your attention away and he’ll whisk you away somewhere private where he’ll kiss you until you can’t breathe, until all you can remember is his name. he’s got no problem with threats though or even physical violence if it goes that far but he’d keep it civil enough for your sake and by that he means he won’t have their tongues.
aegon doesn’t bother with jealousy much but when he does it can be horrible for everyone involved, even you. he’s definitely one for retaliation so if someone is flirting with you or dancing with you he’ll find some random woman and position himself right in front of your eye line so you have to watch. he doesn’t know how to deal with the emotion and it only ends badly with you refusing you talk to him as a result of his rash actions.
as she gets older, alicent has a lot of people at her disposal so if you were upto something she knows she would have heard about it the second it started, so no she doesn’t get particularly jealous especially if you reassure her after. of course if someone oversteps she’ll step in, usually excusing the two of you with a hand on your back and a steely glare at whoever is trying to get close to you.
when rhaenyra is younger she’d probably act out and all you can do is sit back and wonder what you’ve done. she’d avoid you and make subtle, snarky comments when you do finally run into her. once you catch on and talk her down she realises her mistake and apologises. it’s something she gets better at with age, if she feels paranoid about something she’ll come to you straight away, it often coming out in blunt questions and short answers. nothing usually happens in front of her, she is a princess and the heir to the throne and no one who’s smart wants to disrespect her openly.
daemon is probably the most arrogant man you’ve ever met and the idea of him being jealous makes you chuckle. it’s definitely a rare thing for him, most men with common sense know to steer clear of you or at least keep a respectful distance but of course you get the stupid ones. he can definitely be possessive because he sees you as completely his, an extension of himself and if a man steps a toe out of line he has no problem drawing blood. often his way of dealing with it is being overly affectionate in front of the person who’s made him jealous, feeling you up, kissing you, whispering dirty things to you - that’s how he deals with it, by showing that you’re his and his only.
as much as jacerys hates it he can be a little insecure. he is aware how young he is and when older lords come sniffing around you it makes him uncomfortable because he would never hold you to vows if you were unhappy with him and what if you want someone with more experience and maturity? he’s definitely stew on it for a while and it would come out in a jumble of words when he’s finally ready to ask you about it. apart from that he’s protective and quick to defend you if anything happens that he deems disrespectful or too far, especially if it’s his uncles.
harwin is more overprotective than jealous, at least according to him. he’s very secure in himself, he hasn’t earned his name for nothing. before you’re even betrothed when he’s just admired you from afar, any man that even considers asking you harwin invites to watch him at his morning practice, the ones closest to asking for your hand he asks to be his sparring partner. he’s not making it overtly obvious that the idea of you with another man makes him furious but he definitely shows who the better man is.
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eksvee15 · 6 months
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MORE PROOF THAT MEGALOVANIA IS THE PLAYER'S THEME
THANKS TO DELTARUNE AND SUSIE FOR PROVING US RIGHT ONCE AGAIN!
So we all have this constant argument of whether MEGALOVANIA is Sans' fight theme or the Player's (it's not Chara's. Stop) fight theme. Well, I believe Deltarune's use of the soundtracks solved that issue for us.
There is a firm belief that in Undertale, and by logic Deltarune, the theme heard is the theme of who initiates the battle. Undyne starts the battle against us, both times we hear her theme - Spears of Justice and Battle Against A True Hero. Flowey ALWAYS starts the battle, so we hear his themes - Your Best Nightmare and Finale, also counts for Hopes and Dreams given he and Asriel are one and the same. And it's pretty evident that whoever has the first turn DOES NOT ACTUALLY MATTER, it is misleading and is canonically not actually relevant - Undyne herself specifies she's letting us have the first turn, in any fight, she's fair, and ALLOWS US the first turn. Sans gets the first turn to catch us off guard, which is what he does during the ENTIRE fight, ATK 1 DEF 1 yet takes multiple attacks to be defeated and will obliterate your health bar, suddenly has laser weapons, dodges, can manipulate space and gravity, teleport, stops time, his entire character is "surprise bitch", no wonder he gets that first turn - heck on the third turn he won't even finish his "beautiful day" speech and start attacking MID SENTENCE
There is, aside from Sans, one other occasion where the Player initiates the battle - that being Monster Kid. Yet MEGALOVANIA doesn't play there, instead, we hear the OST "In My Way" which is ONLY played against Monster Kid and Flowey in No Mercy. But I believe it's intentional, think of your first Genocide playthrough - you still kind of feel iffy, like it's wrong. It's not much of a challenge as it is a chore at this point. You just killed Papyrus. You just killed Toriel. Two people that have shown love, care, and so much genuine friendship to you, it feels awful. You're a danger, but not yet, a megalomaniac. (Side note, I think Etika's playthrough of No Mercy shows us how LOVE affects the actual player, because killing Toriel is a pain, killing Papyrus feels absolutely awful, but then when you get through Undyne the Undying? Etika celebrated beating her, then stopped and said "Wait no, why am I celebrating, I just killed her". THIS. LV affects us and how we view the Undertale characters, from being friends and caring about them, to being a challenge to overcome in the end. And not a lot of people realise that fact)
Now that I've established all this, where does Deltarune come into play? Well, specifically in Chapter 1, we fight Lancer a number of times. And he has that memorable bouncy theme when you fight him, Vs. Lancer. We all know that theme. However there is ONE moment where we DON'T hear Vs. Lancer DESPITE facing Lancer in battle.
The Susie V Lancer battle in the Card Castle's prison.
There, Susie alone engages battle against Lancer. And we know she engages because Lancer doesn't want to fight her, heck he even avoids to attack her at some point. The battle engaged is ENTIRELY Susie's intentions to put Lancer in his place. And the theme that plays, is Vs. Susie. Because SHE engaged the battle. So it's not Susie against Lancer, it's Lancer against Susie, despite US controling Susie. Just like it's Sans against us, despite us being in control.
This is proof. Proof that we hear the theme of who engages in a battle. You could also take as back up proof the Spamton NEO fight in Snowgrave, because he has every reason to engage against Kris - they're threatening everything Spamton COULD have, so of COURSE Spamton engages, furthermore because Kris goes from puppeted to puppeteer in his eyes. Sans never engages in battle against us. We engage against him. Because we're trying to get it over with.
MEGALOVANIA is most definitely the player's theme in late No Mercy run, and we know this thanks to Susie evolving the opposite way in Ch1 that we do in No Mercy.
Thank you for reading!!
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sicklyseraphnsuch · 6 months
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Episode 9
Let's give Simon an earlier realization of the problems in his relationship. Let's dedicate episode 9 to Simon coming to terms with those problems instead of literally spoonfeeding it to him in one episode. So let's say Simon goes into episode 9, taking Fionna's comments about Betty to heart, and so we revise the Betty scenes.
Fionna and Cake have their nightmare and return to their world like in the show. But when we cut back to Simon...
We see the Scarab wakes up before Simon in that endless void. He sees Simon fully unconscious and he rushes to him. But before he can end him, he looks up and freezes in place. The camera never shows what he sees but he yells at whoever to stay out of it. He tries to finish his job but inexplicably, he turns into tiny bug versions every single time he tries to hurt Simon. Until finally he skitters into Simon's world to escape whatever keeps thwarting him.
Zoom in on Simon's face. Eyes twitch almost as if their fluttering open. Smash cut.
A bus stop. Simon blinks and sees himself standing before Betty, her letter clutched in his hand.
Simon does the same thing he did in the show, he offers to go with her. Then he realize this isn't how it went. And Betty smiles. The world slowly dissolves to the black space. Tetris shapes begin to fill the void.
"Hi Betty, long time no see. It seems I haven't been fair to you. I kept looking to you like you're supposed to be everything. But being someone's whole world is… exhausting." Simon laughs wryly as he scratches his head with the back giving off a telltale sparkle. " I shouldn't have put that on you. And I should have noticed all that you were doing for me…"
Simon begins to transform from his professor looks to his post apocalyptic looks.
"You remain the great love of my life. Nothing can change that. But... we've changed, haven't we?"
Betty in turn begins to change, first into Simon's fiance then into Magic Betty.
Smash cut to Fionna and Cake desperately fighting for their lives.
"It was a long road to get here. And I have found more people to love."
Simon cycles into Ice King before finally transforming into his present self.
"And I should be so lucky that they love me back. I can't... I can't just leave them like this. I'm a sad old man that kept looking for lost things and missing the stuff right in front of his face. I want to do better, Betty. I have to."
Smash cut to Fionna and Cake again.
And Betty makes her final transformation into Golb. Simon finds himself standing in front of her in all her new glory. He feels his pocket buzzing and he realizes that they're in trouble.
"No, no, no. What was all that for? If I just keep going back?" He eyes the Crown before tossing it at Betty. "There has to be another way. I'm not done yet."
Betty's eyes lift up. She pulls out Fionna and Cake's world as in the show.
"Oh. Always rescuing me, even now..." Simon is more than a little bitter. But he takes the world and he gives it to Fionna.
Smash cut to Fionna and Cake as in show.
After, Simon looks up at Betty. The faint image of their past selves lurk over their shoulders as the same moment a thousand years apart repeats itself. With Simon looking up as Betty readies herself to leave.
"I can't do much for you now. But I will tell you what I should have told you then. Thank you for everything. If only I could come with you where you're going but since I can't... Then I hope you find your happiness wherever you go... Goodbye, Betty."
And then Betty does as she does in the show. Episode 9 ends with Simon in the flower field.
Episode 10 is a flashback to present Ooo. In the time since Simon's departure, his family and friends have worked themselves up, crazy with worry. It's a comedy of errors as each callback character comes up with worse and worse ideas to find Simon. Until mid episode Simon comes back to his house with a crown - a flower crown.
"Hey gang... uh... what's going on? are we having a party? ... At my house? Without telling me?"
"SIMON!"
Cue dogpile.
Cue epilogue.
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daughterofthequeen · 1 year
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Till the End of Time
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Pairing: Poe Dameron x reader
Summary/Request: can I request for a poe x reader where the two of them are very flirty but never actually got together that is until the reader got into some sort of accident and ended up injured (you can decide what) and poe thinks that he lost her?
There was also a person that wanted to be tagged in this when I posted the teaser but I deleted the original and forgot to get the @ off of it so to whoever that was sorry I hope you find this and enjoy this fic
Requested by: @book-place
Warning: Angst for sure, descriptions of being an alcoholic (word is not used), flirting/fools in love with each other but won’t admit it, jealousy(you gotta squint, you’re most likely gonna need a microscope), near death of major character, Poe nearly has a heart attack, save this little kitten, cliches of cliches, oh and crying lots of crying, let me know if I missed something
A/N: It’s finally here, sorry it took so long. Well it’s my first angst let me know how I did. All and everyones criticism is welcome just don’t be nasty about it and we’ll be cool
The Confession- Part 2 of this fic
You are laying down on your bunk staring at the ceiling waiting for the call time to sound off. Having woken up early due to the recurring nightmares you’ve been having. Which is nothing out of the ordinary for you, it was rare for you to have a peaceful night of sleep, but you manage. But what you can’t manage are the recurring nightmares that seem to constantly play in your mind when you’re awake.
Ships being shot down and crashing.
Your friends dying due to their ships exploding.
All of it happening right in front of your eyes.
And they call the ones that made it out alive the lucky ones, you guess that’s true, but in a way you’re not the lucky ones because all of the death that you see stays with you, never ending, it’s something about watching a person die that takes away a part of you, something you can’t get back; and everyone has to deal with it in their own way. You however fall on the negative side of coping with the pain, and by that you mean drinking it all away. Others also cope by buying camtonoes of spices. You only do the drinking, and depending on how bad the dreams are at the time is how bad you drink. You’re working on it, but it doesn’t seem to be letting up anytime soon. And it’s not like your going through the process alone, you have a few drinking buddies, which is mainly members of black squad, your squad. But the person who is there without you even having to call is the leader of black squadron, Poe Dameron.
Everybody knows about the best pilot in the Resistance, AKA fly boy, AKA the #1 playboy of the Resistance.
He is also your best friend, which is why you are the only person that knows the real reason he seeks out the bodies that gives him his nickname. It’s the same reason you find yourself drinking every night. It’s his way of coping, his way of dealing with all of the death around him, the death of the different members of his squad, his friends. And his way of getting his mind off of the one he thinks he can’t have, not that you knew that. But little does he know the one he wants also wants him. Two people in love with each other, but too afraid to admit it to one another. It doesn’t stop the constant flirting between each other though. Actually, it increases it, most see them as a couple already, and all of black squadron knows about the feelings the two harbor for each other, and are just waiting for them to admit it to themselves. Going as far to actually have a bet going on as to who is going to crack first, granted the bet has been going on for a couple years but everybody knows it’s going to happen sooner or later so, why not keep it going.
Beep Beep Beep
The blaring of the speakers are what brings you out if your thoughts. After standing up and grabbing your (f/c) jacket, you head out to the cafeteria. Once you get there, you immediately see your friends, and after you get your daily caf and breakfast, you join them at the table. The first one to notice you is Snap. You sit in your regular seat in between him and Poe. Once you sit down you start picking at your food, something Poe noticed quickly.
“Long night?”
“Yeah”, you replied.
“Longer than usual or…”
“Yeah.”
“You know I don’t mind when you come over to my room at night. Whether it be to sleep or even to just have someone to talk to, to take your mind off things.”
“Thanks Poe you’re so sweet. And I would take you up on your countless offers sometime, if you weren’t always preoccupied with your nightly duties”, you said in a joking way.
“It’s not like they last all night I’m back in my room around 12”, says Poe while chuckling.
“Sadly”, says Karé which in turn makes all of you laugh except for Poe.
“Very funny, that’s not what I meant”, he said in very dry tone.
“You kinda left yourself open for that one man”
“Shut up Snap”, Poe sighs
You were getting ready to tease him further by saying one of your usual witty remarks but the klaxon alarm started going letting you all know you needed to suit up quickly, and you all took off forgetting about your unfinished breakfast.
You made it to your X-Wing in record amount of time, and when you got there Oddy, black squads technician, was rushing by but you quickly stopped him.
“Oddy what’s going on.”
“Imperials crossed one of the checkpoints.”
“Oh no.” You knew what that meant, the checkpoints were planets out from where the base was to give the resistance enough time to fend the enemy off or flee if you have to without being tracked as a precaution.
“Keep me updated!”, Oddy yells while running off.
“We will!”, you answer back.
You climb in your ship and take off into the stars getting into your correct position with your squadron.
“Ok guys you know the drill, lead them away from the base as you cut down their numbers until they retreat or until there’s none left. Stay sharp you guys.” You watch as other squads go out ahead of you guys to pursue the enemy. And after Poe finished his commands you all immediately start picking off the fighters one by one.
You worry for your friends, your family, every time you guys get into these ships, knowing this might be the last time you see one of them. But instead of relying on the negatives, you all made a game out of the battles, keeping count of how many tie fighters you can take out, whoever shoots more ships down they get a free drink from everyone in the squad. It’s a way to lighten the mood and keep everyone’s hope and joy up in battle instead of focusing on all the pain each and every one of you carry.
Boom
“That’s five Dameron what’s your count.” You and Poe were always the most competitive. And 9 out of 10 times one of you are going to be the ones with the most points, that comes with being one of the best pilots in the resistance .
“Seven, gonna have to catch up baby.”
“I just did”, you said smiling after you made a shot that caused two tie flyers crash into one another.
“We’re tied fly boy.”
“Not for long.”
“That’s for sure because another wave of ties are coming in, everyone, flank maneuvers!”you say in a panic. But before you can start your own attacks again a resurgent-class star destroyer comes out hyperspace and immediately starts picking off resistance pilots, squads at time it seems like.
“We have to lead them further away from the base.” Snap says.
“Right, everyone set course for Arbra we can draw them away from the base and have more space to move in its atmosphere.” That being said everyone followed Poe’s order and took off towards Arbra, taking out as many ties on the way there, you were all doing well until Poe seen a fighter locking on your ship, something you didn’t take notice trying to get a lock on the tie you’re following. And before he could say anything a green blast shot out and hit one of your your engines, sending you spiraling towards the trees of Arbra. You try to maneuver your ship to a clear piece of land but there’s barely any around so you do your best to get to the small clearing you pin pointed.
“Y/N!!!” Poe yells trying to make it to you as fast as he can but he can’t seem to move fast enough. He hasn’t even thought about how he would be able to help you he just needed to get to you, you that’s all he seen in that moment, his best friend, the love of his life, but he hasn’t even been able to tell you that yet too scared of the result, but that all seemed so silly now, and he wished he had of told you a lot sooner to save him and you the romantic suffering you’ve been putting yourselves through for years. Because in a split second the life of someone you love could be gone just like that, but he refused to accept that you were going down like this, not you, a person who’s flying skills rival his own, he knew that there was no stoping the inevitable, but he couldn’t accept it, all he could do was scream your name as he seen your ship hit the ground while going up in flames, the explosion that caused it didn’t help at all and then there was nothing. Nothing around him he couldn’t even hear as own breath, wait he wasn’t breathing, everything going on lost to the stars. Poe immediately took off and landed his X-Wing, next to yours, throwing his helmet out of the way somewhere, repeating the word “no”, over and over again as he got out of his ship to make it over to you.
“Y/N!”, the ship you loved keeping shiny and looking brand new was now completely black from the fire that was still burning around it and in it. Poe ran up to the canopy seeing the glass completely gone, shattered from the impact. By the time he got there he seen you and he felt a breath of relief leave his body because now there’s still a chance of you making it. He reaches into the canopy not caring about the glass that’s cutting his body, he just needed to get you out of there.
“Come on Y/n, come on.” Is all he could say as he successfully pulled you out of the cockpit and laid you on the ground to check if you were alive, you had to be, right? “Y/n, Y/n can you hear me? You need to open your eyes, you hear me, you can’t fall asleep.” You weren’t moving and he couldn’t see your chest moving, and that’s when he seen the large trail of blood rolling down the side of your temple, and that sent him into a sort of frenzy he’s never been in before.
“No. No, no, no, no, no.” He says as he lifts you closer to him, your body laying across in lap, torso turned to be flush against his trembling figure as tears are rolling continuously down his face, and the sniffing is loud and present but he doesn’t pay any attention to that. “Y/n. No. Y/n! Please, don’t! Please don’t leave me like this! I’m begging you! Oh maker, no. No. Please no. I can’t finish this without you okay? I need you. I need you by my side. And I have to tell you… I have to tell you how I feel, how I truly feel, because you deserve much more than this, so much more. And I will tell you how much more if you just wake up! Please. I love you.” And that’s all he can say as he hugs the body of the love of his life as close to his as he can knowing it might be the last time he would be able to.
————————————————————
Poe is sitting outside of the medical center waiting to hear something from medics. He’s not as a big of a mess as he was but the tears still won’t stop, and they don’t seem to be stopping anytime soon until they come out of there and tell him something. When he looks up he sees Leia coming out of the room you were in. He stands up waiting for her to tell him something about your condition.
“I’m sorry, Poe.” Everything stopped again, he stopped, his body malfunctioning for a second, but it was enough time to know he was gonna drop if the words “just kidding!”, didn’t come out her mouth soon.
“What, what are you saying? She gone?That’s impossible, she can’t be, right? Please tell me this is some kind of sick joke!” Not knowing if he wanted to laugh or cry because of the cruelty of it all, so he settled for sitting back down in his seat before his body sits for him and he wouldn’t have the choice to choose between a chair or the floor.
“No, I mean I’m sorry for what you and your squad had to go through. All of the squads, we took some heavy loses, and even more injured. Freedom isn’t something we should have to fight for, but here we are, in this rut of a war that’s end doesn’t seem to be in our sights anytime soon. And for that I’m sorry.”
Poe’s face went from empty to hopeful again, but then he took in the generals words. “It’s not your fault general, you’re trying your hardest to end it, that’s l all we can ask of you. But until the war is over all we can do is fight and hope that everything will work itself out.” Leia reaches out and holds Poe hands for a little while until she remembered why she came out of the room in the first place.
“You can go see her.” Poe immediately snaps his head up, giving himself whiplash.
“Is she awake?”
“Yep, awake and feeling a lot better, she just wants to see you, she’s worried about you, you know.”
“Worried? Yeah sure she should be the one that’s worried.” Poe said sarcastically.
“Go on in, I’ve requested everyone to give you guys some time alone.”
“Thanks Leia.” Poe said with the sweetest of smiles pointed in her direction.
“Of course.” She said then she walked off to check on other patients.
To say Poe was nervous was a understatement. You’ve never been in this bad of a situation like this before, but he knows no matter what you look like and no matter any other conditions you might have, he knows he’s never leaving your side again, and he’s with you till the end of time.
————————————————————
A/N: Here it is. Finally, right? For the ending let me know if you want to see the conversation between them because I’ll happily write it, I’m just so excited about having finished the story, I just said I’ll write a epilogue for it if you want to see it. Or anybody who would want to read it feel free to comment or message me, I’ll happily do it. Anyways, I’ll see you guys later✌️
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darkstar225 · 10 months
Text
Twice’s 10th member being babied by 3mix
A/N: I got two similar asks on Tumblr and I put them together, hope the anons like it! :)
The requests: could you do a members (mainly Jihyo) prank the maknae by treating her like a small child/baby..ik they baby her as is but you could make the maknae all annoyed and stuff.
i love ur works! can you do more mom!3mix with 10th member? it's so cute how they baby her 😭
PS: Tysm for everyone that reads what I write, I hope I can bring a smile to your faces every time I post! I'd like to thank whoever sent me this idea 'cause I loved to write it <3
__________________________________________________________
It is no secret to ONCE and TWICE themselves that the unnies are overprotective of their maknae. Especially, 3mix, also known as the mom line (lol). However, they woke up with that vibe that you get when you wanna annoy your sibling, in that case, Y/N. Even if the youngest is always enjoying the feeling of being pampered, her sisters know when they get to the line and today, they wanna cross it. The prank is meant to last the whole day, Nayeon, Jeongyeon and Jihyo got that idea from a ONCE that suggested it on a Vlive (Still can't get over the end of Vlives) they did coming back from a stage on their moms + maknae car. While you could be thinking that Y/N saw the comment, she wouldn't be able to, the unnies were on the front and she was on the last seat roll of the car laying down sleeping like the baby she is. And this cuteness always results in a thousand photos taken, some of them posted on her birthday cause, why not? The worst ones that become memes are usually provided by the maknae line and how could Y/N be mad when she does the same? It's only fair. Anyways- 
The youngest is the last to get up this morning and that's already rare but amazing for 3mix since they had time to prepare everything for the prank.
 Y/N - Morning unnies *yawns*
Jihyo - Hey baby, how are you doing?
Y/N - I'm okay, where are the other unnies? 
Nayeon - They went out, there's only the four of us now, why? Are we not enough? *pouts*
Jeongyeon - Yeah cutie, do you love them more than us?
Y/N - What?? Of course not unnies, why are you like that? *frowns*
Nayeon - Isn't she adorable Jeongyeon? Look at that frown! She looks like a baby.
Y/N - I'm not a baby! You know that unnie :/
Jihyo - Awnnn, come here sweetie. Don't pout.
Y/N - I'm not pouting :(
Jeongyeon - Saying you're not pouting while doing so isn't gonna help your case. 
Y/N - What's with you guys today? 
Jihyo - Nothing, come eat what we made kid. 
Nayeon - Yeah!! It's really good, I mean- I helped, obviously it's delicious. 
Y/N - Okay, let's sit down. Can we watch TV while eating? *puppy eyes*
Jeongyeon - You know I can't with those eyes, Jihyo you answer!
Jihyo - Can't even deny something she asks *rolls eyes*
Nayeon - You try then. It's horrible to say no to her
Meanwhile, Y/N can be seen still doing the kicked puppy look so her unnies take pity on her and she finally watches TV while eating for the first time in months. It's funny for her to think how she did this at home all the time before coming to Korea but in the dorms, she wasn't allowed by 3mix and that made her look spoiled, but she wasn't. (maybe just a little but she'll never admit it). 
After years (for Y/N ofc) they finally let her go to the sofa and they followed with a motherly smile on their faces as they noticed the skip on her steps. When they got there they remembered the prank and got to work.
Jeongyeon - Come cuddle honey
Y/N - Don't wanna...
Nayeon - Come here then... 
Y/N - Nooo, you're being to clingy today unnies
Jihyo - But you're our child, lay here with mama
Y/N - Fineeee 
Y/N goes to the other side of the sofa near the unnies and lands right in the middle, when she sits there and believes they find it enough she relaxes. But she let her guard down and Jihyo pulls her to her chest. The maknae layed there with an "oof-" and whined for the loss of her favourite moment on the TV show, Nayeon only cooed and stroked her hair. The others making sure she gets lots of cuddles. But, with time the youngest tried to get away and the unnies wouldn't let her, only laughing and telling her that a baby shouldn't be alone. This only made her more annoyed! With a huff, she goes out of the room pouting and complaining that the 3mix unnies are too much. (I'd love to be babied by 3mix but you do you girl, IG)
Her sisters felt bad and wrapped up the prank before the day finished, even if it was near the end 'cause they only wanted to annoy her a little but they could hear how frustrated she got with them. Opening the SMC room they found her sitting with her cell phone in hand, apparently texting on K-talk.
Jeongyeon - Kid... You know we love you
Y/N - I know, but why did you treat me like a baby all day? I'm a grown woman unnies
Nayeon - It was a prank pabo, we get that you want to be respected as who you are right now and to be seen as the mature girl we know you are. 
Jihyo - Yeah, we understand you cutie pie, but we'll always see you as the girl that we met when you we're only trainees, even if you are 70 years old. 
Y/N - Even then? Lol but you're gonna be grandmas!
Nayeon - YAH! You too, shut up. 
Y/N - Sorry unnie... But I just overreacted a little, the haters are being mean again and they're talking about how childish I am with you guys *frowns*
Jihyo - WHAT? And you we're gonna talk to us when? This is not okay babe
Nayeon - We're gonna talk with JYP again and this time he must do something with these haters
Jeongyeon - Nobody messes with our child and gets away with it, only us. 
Jihyo - That for sure. Anyway- besides that are you okay princess?
Y/N - Yes mamas, calm down. I'm fine now that you guys are here with me. And may I admit, I love when you guys pamper me, it makes me feel loved and warm inside (I wish)
Nayeon - Awnnn, we love you our dear maknae
Jihyo - Don't ever forget to tell us something like that, we are here for you and we love you our dear maknae
Jeongyeon -You are special to us and will always have a place in our heart and mind. We love you our dear maknae
A/N: I apologise for any errors, English is not my first language. Pls, let me know if there's something wrong, ty for reading <3
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alphabetboyluvr · 7 months
Note
A time before DB and JK meet officially where they crossed paths but don't remember or almost but missed each other by seconds. You know, typical kdrama missed meet cutes lol.
🪩 WORDCOUNT | 2.4k 🪩 NOTE FROM HOLLY | so... that thing about me and finding it impossible to write anything short.... yeah that. lmao. this is bd lore in the BEST possible way imo. something that neither of them remember and likely never will. this is set about four years before the events of BD. JK would have been 20-21, and B would have been 21-22 (give or take a year). thank you SO much for this request. i had so much fun with it!!
🪩 BD DRABBLES MASTERPOST 🪩
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Jeon Jungkook looks devastatingly pretty with cherry-red lips. Smudged and a little faded, they leave the faintest mark on the end of his cigarette—a bad habit, he knows, but one that he picked up as an excuse to flirt with a girl whose lips are far more crimson than his. 
Of course they are, though. How else would she stain him in evidence of her existence if they weren’t? 
Even when he’s tarnished in her, there’s no evidence of him on her. Nothing to tell new acquaintances to stay away—and Hayun loves making new friends.
A bottle of Jack rests by his feet. Neat. A little lukewarm. Ass perched on the curb outside a house just off campus, he’s in no mood to get himself embroiled in the debauchery he knows his friends are partaking in. Just wants to clear his head. 
Foolishly hopes she’ll do the same. That she’ll notice his absence. That her heart will ache like his currently is. 
In their final year of studies, his friends are all letting loose for the final time before they have to cram for finals. It’s a night of celebration. Of last-chances. Of opportunities that won't present themselves again for a good few lunar orbits.
And so while he may not have the same restrictions, having started his studies a little later than scheduled, he’s been making the most of it with them. 
Quiet kisses hidden from his friends are fun. He likes them. Loves them, even.
But to then watch her very publicly let a guy make moves on her? To make moves back?
Feels fuckin’ awful.
“Oh, you know what?” A voice echoes from the porch of the house behind him. “You can take her violin and shove it up your ass, you ostentatious, pseudo-intellectual prick.” 
It’s a little twisted, but it brings Jungkook comfort to know he isn’t the only one with a shitty excuse for a love life. Knows he shouldn’t listen in—but fuck it.
“Where does she keep her violin, huh? In your trousers? ‘Cause that’s the only way that what I just saw and what you’re saying could even possibly correlate,” the girl continues, unrelenting in the way she dictates her speech. Barely lets her partner get a word in edge-ways. “No? She not a tiny violin specialist? The rooms aren’t that dark, dickhead.” 
He thinks the tirade is over, but finds himself laughing when he hears, “And not to brag, but my last eye exam went exceptionally well, so don’t you dare try and tell me I was seeing shit. Twenty-twenty vision, baby.”
It’s easy to tell whoever is speaking is deliberating adding a little dramatic flare to their words. Is definitely drunk. Is also definitely not afraid of standing her ground.
Glancing over his shoulder as he stubs out his cigarette, he’s surprised to see the girl—you—on the phone instead of confronting someone in person.
In a pretty little party dress, you’re just the right combination of hot mess. Even from a fair distance away, he can notice the glitter all over your skin. Not really his type—so different from Hayun—but there’s something about you. Something that intrigues him. Makes it hard to look away.
“She could be fuckin’ Vivaldi for all I care!” You seethe into your phone. “Does it sound like I give a shit if she’s the best in her class? You want me to give her a gold medal or something? Don’t piss me off. Prick.”
Jungkook would argue that you’re already pissed off. With a tone of voice like that, you must be.
There’s a final curse, and then your phone is almost thrown across the front lawn. Almost. You know better. Know that you can’t afford to replace the screen if you shatter it. Instead, you have to grit your teeth and scream. 
It’s only once you finish your venting of frustration that you notice a pair of starry eyes on you. 
Raising your brows, you shake your head in his direction. “Can I help?”
And then he fucking laughs. Shrugs. Is pleased to see it makes you smile, too. 
“Really hate violin, don’t you?”
Shaking your head, far kinder this time, you sigh. “Don’t have much of an opinion on them. Not unless it’s the strings in the intro of Untouched by The Veronicas. In that case, the violin is the greatest instrument known to man.”
“Untouched? The Veronicas?” he laughs, suddenly reminded of a song he hasn’t heard in years. “Didn’t realise it was still 2005.”
“Hey, don’t be judgy,” you say as you walk towards him, perching down on the curbside, too. “It’s a classic.”
“Never said it wasn’t,” he defends, reaching down for his bottle of Jack and offering it over to you. “Boyfriend trouble?”
Shaking your head, you decide that unloading your problems onto a stranger is exactly what this night calls for. 
“Girl I’ve been seeing. Wasn’t that serious.” Nodding towards the bottle you add, “You first.”
“Seemed pretty serious,” he mumbles, before swigging down his whiskey. Jack is shit, in his opinion, but it’s cheap and it gets the job done. Clearing his throat with a small ‘ah’, he holds it back over for you to take. “Satisfied?”
You don’t vocalise a response—but you do take the bottle from him and ignore the burn as it races down your throat. Of everything you’d choose to drink, Jack Daniels would not be it. You like fruity things. Had been on vodka cranberry juice all night.
“Wasn’t serious," you double down, then shrug. "Can’t let people think they can get away with bad behaviour, though. Let them do it once, and they’ll do it again and again." 
It’s something you’re adamant about. Something you’ll do well to remember. 
“Anyway, you know why I’m out here like a miserable bitch,” you continue as you pass the bottle back. “What brings you here?”
“Something similar.”
It’s only now that you really take him in for all that he is. 
Same age as you, you think, judging by his build. Though his shoulders are broad, he hasn’t properly filled out yet—he’s trying, though. You can see the definition in his arms. His shoulders. Clearly is trying to shape himself into a man. No longer a teenager, but not really an adult. With eyes like that, though, he’ll always look a little younger than he is. His dark hair waves around his features, so casually undone you know he must have put a lot of effort into it. It’s sweet. 
He tries, and that’s more than can be said for most of the boys at the party.
“It doesn’t suit you,” you tell him.
“Hm?”
“The red lipstick,” you nod towards the sheen on his lips. There’s a little on his neck, too. His T-shirt is black, but you imagine there’s some there, as well. “You’d look better without it.”
“It’s not mine.”
“Guessed as much,” you softly smile. “So what, then? Your girlie pissed all over her territory? So no one else would approach you? Then decided she wanted to play elsewhere?”
“Something like that.”
“Girlfriend?”
Jungkook just shrugs. Tells the truth, even if it feels like a lie. “Just friends.”
“You kiss all your friends?”
“Just one.”
“Ouch,” you wince. Friends-with-benefits situations are dumb, you think. Wouldn’t ever wanna end up in one. Know they end in unbearable heartbreak. “That’s rough.”
He nods. Knows how it’ll end, too, even if he’s been trying to tell himself otherwise.
“Well, we’re friends, now,” you declare, definitely too drunk to be making good decisions. “You and me. Have bonded over terrible people doing terrible things.”
He wants to tell you that Hayun isn’t terrible.
Instead, he raises a brow at your fledgling—and fleeting—friendship. 
“If she’s off making new friends, then maybe you should consider kissing your other friends,” you playfully shrug, knowing better than to get involved in a situation like this. “Y’know… make it even.”
And Jungkook is well aware he shouldn’t indulge in your flirt, but he’s hurting. Wants to feel wanted—and the way you’re looking at him? He can’t remember the last time Hayun looked at him like that.
The way you see it, you’ll never see this man again. You could both do with a little pick-me-up. Confirmation that life goes on, even if the people you date are awful.
A kiss is just a kiss. 
Or at least, for now, it is. One day, you’ll develop a complex. Blame Seokjin.
But you’re yet to meet him. Yet to unlearn all your rules and make far feebler, more pathetic ones in their place.
“Y’know, you’re kinda cute,” you whisper, edging closer ever so slightly. 
“Kinda?” He tweaks a brow, eyes not on yours, but on your lips. There’s a little glitter in your gloss. Think maybe it’ll suit him better.
“Mhmm,” you hum, reaching up to lightly trace your thumb across his bottom lip, ridding him of a little bit of his very own red flag. “Kinda. Never kissed a guy with a lip piercing.”
Just a stud, he’s only had it a little while. Was trying to make himself look a little older. Sharper. Light from the house catches in it as your thumb pulls back - but Jungkook pulls closer. Nudges his nose against yours. Holds it there for a second.
“Maybe I should take one for the team,” he husks, lips brushing yours. “Just so you know what it’s like.”
Nodding, you let your nose stroke against his. “You’d be such a good friend if you did.”
Lips parted, the end of your sentence grants him permission to sink his lips between yours. Slow as he does so, Jungkook’s scared of fucking it up.
Hasn’t kissed anyone that isn’t Hayun for months, now. Isn’t even sure he knows how to.
And yet as soon as you press down into the kiss, his mind is void of her. Totally blank. Pitch black, until the faintest of stars begin to appear. Sparkle. Shine.
There’s a sweetness to you, even despite the whiskey. Maybe it’s the cranberry juice. Maybe it’s your lip gloss. Jungkook doesn’t have the mental capacity to decipher it, for he can feel your tongue stroking across his bottom lip—and then he’s granting permission. Inviting you into his mouth. Stroking his tongue against yours, as if he’s in the privacy of the party bathroom—not out front for everyone to see. 
Shamelessly, he almost wants Hayun to see—but as quickly as a thought of her intrudes, it’s replaced by the way you feel. It makes him pull you closer. Gets him whining into your mouth. Makes you smile.
It’s confirmation that there’s nothing wrong with you; that the girl you were seeing really was just a dickhead.
Pressing your hand to his chest, you slowly push him away. Are reluctant to finish kissing him. In fact, even as you push him back, your body follows, until you force yourself to pull back. 
“There,” you smile, a little infatuated with how sparkly his eyes appear. “Now you’re even.”
“We can make it odd, again, if you want,” Jungkook offers, far bolder than even he realises. Just doesn’t wanna stop kissing you. Maybe it’s just the whiskey. Yeah. He’ll blame it on that. 
“That’s a bad decision waiting to happen,” you laugh, getting to your feet, because you don’t trust yourself to stay. “My purpose is served. Friends don’t fuck you over. Stop wasting your kisses on people who are gonna fuck you over.”
Your message is clear: she’s not your friend. 
It’s a lesson he’ll learn far too late in life.
“But you’re ditching me?” He says as you begin to walk away. “That’s not friendly!”
For a girl who should really be wallowing in self-pity, you’re surprisingly chirpy. Jungkook envies it. Wishes he could stop caring in the way that he does —he just doesn’t realise your situationship really was as simple as they’re supposed to be. The feelings were yet to fully develop.
If love is a choice—which you think, to a degree, it is—then before it can develop, choices have to be made. Your partner is supposed to choose you. The girl you’d been seeing has just demonstrated that she wouldn’t choose you, and so why should you choose her?
Life was simpler before Seokjin; before you really knew what it was to love. 
Or, to love, and to not be chosen. 
To choose, even when you’re never chosen.
Sort of like how Jungkook is, now.
“I’m doing you a favour!” You call back, tipsy smile just as radiant as you seem to be. You're jovial in your tone, and the attitude rubs off on him. Gets him smiling, too. “Saving you from yourself. If I kiss you again, you’ll fall in love, baby. They always do!”
The way you jet off is spritely. Happy. Abundantly clear that you’re yet to know what heartbreak really feels like. 
The girl getting a little too friendly with the star violinist will be long forgotten by the time you meet Jungkook once again, and so will he. In fact, the scar left by Seokjin manages to mangle just about all of your romantic memories prior to him. 
You’ll become folklore; a girl Jungkook doesn’t know the name of, but who Hayun is pretty sure is legally named ‘Desperate Skank’. Someone they argue about on a few too many occasions. A memory he barely remembers, but in the heat of their drunken fight later that evening became a permanent sticking spot in their situationship. 
‘Cause while Hayun was off making friends, that’s all she was doing. Getting numbers. Getting a little touchy-feely. Getting her ego stroked. Getting zero kisses, because she had been reserving them for him.
Why she was only making friends with six-foot-something muscle pigs with more protein powder in their system than common sense is another thing they’ll argue about—but he’s the one in the wrong this time, or so she makes sure to tell him.
He’ll think of you sometimes. The memory will be hazy. Blurry, like driving down a midnight highway with astigmatism. 
He’ll think of you, and he’ll see stars.
And when he sees you again in the dark of Dionysus a few years later, with no recollection of who you are, his brain will scream at him. Beg him to remember. 
He won’t.
But he will, inevitably, see stars once more.
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cafecourage · 3 months
Text
Pinky Isn't Suffering
Chapter 6
Previous chapter - Next Chapter
Reminder these chapters happen between Enno cant get their crap together on @luimagines
                Finally, the group was blessed with a few days of peace after one fight after another. They were in Warrior’s Era and near the kingdom's capital. It still wasn’t enough to bring up the moral. Everyone was tired. Plan and simple.
Well... Some people seemed to be emotionally tired. Between the changes in realities, the story of the Fierce Deity, and for Twilight, finally realizing how he was acting towards Pinky while with Greyson, it was a lot for everyone involved. The two of them couldn’t really find time to sit down and talk. There was just never a time to get her alone.
He still felt the stinging sensation in his right forearm.
The mark…
There was no doubt in Twilight’s mind that he did the right thing, if only because he knows everyone is safe. He’d rather be the one marked than anyone else.
Yet.
  Twilight’s mind wanders to the Skyloftian. Does he have a mark? Why did Enno ask about the voice? If Time heard the voice, wasn’t it a common thing then? Twilight should ask. He really should. But in side-eyeing the knight of Skyloft during these few days of chaos, he noticed Sky looked like he could go into hibernation.
Except he was sleeping this whole time. Ennohasn’t been sleeping at all either. He knows this for a fact. Despite Wind’s and Hyrule’s efforts during their cuddling sessions, they were always up, taking the night shifts letting everyone else sleep. Of course it didn’t take long for everyone else to figure that out. From what he saw, the Veteran had sat with them at the fire, the mask still at their side. 
Time was still suffering from the blow to the head. He had been getting better but there were days where the head pain got too much for him.
  Twilight hated this.
He hated that his family was so tired. In so much pain. And that there isn’t much for him to do to fix it.
  Twilight’s spiral was cut off by the Captain, who took charge in Time’s stead. “I think this actually might be closer to Castle Town I thought.” His eyes scanned the field they’ve been walking through.
“Good.” There was a checklist of who was hurt, what needed to be purchased, and how many rooms they may need. “Our main concern should be getting whoever is wounded to an inn or something. We are lucky Hyrule could heal anything major.”
“The Queen can help us there.” Warriors never really talked about his Era, other than that it had a pretty chaotic war. “Let’s just hope that there aren't any events.”
“Events?”
  “He means that the nobles would want an excuse to party.” Legend popped up on his other side.
“How’s everyone holding up, Vet?” Warriors asked, seemingly planning out their best strategy for any answer given.
  “We’re ok for now, but it’s your hyrule. So it’s your call what to do.”
That seemed to not be what Warriors wanted to hear. He sighed. “Ok.” He covered his face, rubbing his temples. “We’ll go to the castle. Just- expect the nobility to throw a ball as soon as we step foot in castle town. No one other than me I’d required to join.”
Legend scoffs. “While I would love to do that, I know from experience how nosy nobles can be. They won’t leave us alone if we didn’t go.”
Twilight didn’t know much about high society. His Zelda purposely left him out of a lot of the politics and appearances because of his background. The amount of balls, galas and masquerades he has been to can be counted on one hand.
Twi knew that he was there to support Warriors, but it ended up being the fact that more than half of the group was still healing or resting that made Twilight considerably anxious.
Why must nobles be so nosy and picky about who the Hero of Courage hangs around? They don’t have any say with what happens in this adventure despite what they think.
Yet here he was, making an attempt to touch shoulders and socialize. He is happy to have a break. Twilight wondered if he could just leave, thinking back to Zelda and her crash course on high class customs. Honestly the only reason he was still there was to see the darling girl he couldn’t seem to stop thinking about.
 And… and maybe a dance… or two…
“Who’s got you looking like a love struck puppy?” Enno joined him in the corner looking just as tired as he was with socialization.
 “Wouldn’t you know by this point?” Twilight had given up keeping this crush a secret at this point. It seems like the whole world knew about his crush even before he did. “There’s a lot about her that is making me go love sick.” 
“Go off, I guess,” Enno leaned next to him on the wall. “Please tell me all about it.”
“You're just using me to ignore your own relationship issues.” Twilight wasn’t about to be teased when someone was just as bad as he was. He figured he was better off pointing out what he sees. Enno just rolled their eyes and stuck out their tongue. Twilight ignored their childish behavior and looked back out to the crowd. 
“Where is the mask?” He whispered, crossing his arms. 
Enno paused, almost like their brain was trying to process the info. “It’s…safe. Why?”
“I don’t trust it.” It was as plain and simple as that and honestly- “Frankly, we should get rid of it.”
“It’s just a trapped God.” They yawned out. “He can’t be that powerful.”
“You never wore the mask.” He tsk’ed at the audacity. “He is a lot more powerful than you think. He knows about all of us.” 
Did Twilight have proof of that?
No.
No, he didn’t. But that's besides the point. Twilight didn’t want Pinky anywhere near it.
Enno sighs. “You worry too much Twi.”
“Who else is going to worry if I don’t?” He shot back sarcastically.
“Cap was getting annoying ‘bout it.” They physically began to nod off.
“Hey.” Twilight gave them a small shake. “Don’t fall asleep on us.” 
Enno slapped his hand away but he didn’t stop holding them up. “You should take care of yourself.” 
“Don’t point a finger at a mirror now.” Enno focused their attention back in the crowd. “Instead, maybe you should play hero and save a princess or something.”
Twilight was confused at their words. Not understanding the reference, he looked out into the crowd.
And goddess above, his breath hitched at the sight.
There she stood, looking straight from one of the fairytale books he would read for the kids. Twilight's jaw goes slack and he didn’t realize he was staring until Pinky was right in front of him. He even didn’t register she was walking because the dress she was wearing made it seem like she glided across the ballroom. 
“You look…” His brain wasn’t working at this point. He tried to scramble to find the right words. “Wow…”
She blushed and bashfully began twirling a piece of her hair. “Thank you…”
A cough breaks the bubble as Enno starts to inch away. “I’m gonna dip.” 
Twilight was completely far gone. Enough so that he almost didn’t register Enno had spoken at all. “Don’t die.”
Pinky rolled her eyes but wasn't able to quip back. Twilight gently took her hand, bent down and kissed the top of it. “May I have this dance?”
“I…” She glanced down at her feet then to the dance floor, not knowing what to say. “I… don't know how.”
“Trust me.” Twilight gave her the softest smile. “I won't let you be embarrassed in front of everyone.”
That seemed to melt her as she finally relaxed and nodded. Twilight had a plot in his mind and slightly in his head. Slowly, he guided her away, away from prying eyes and listening ears.
Twilight felt lucky that the gardens were open. Through twists and turns, Twilight saw that when they got there that evening in the basking of the setting sun, there was a fountain in the middle, surrounded by bundles and bundles of rose bushes. Under the starry night, when he turned back to Pinky, the moon hit her in a way that made her look like she was glowing. For the second time that night, Twilight’s breath was stolen away. Twilight pulled her closer, placing one hand on the small of her back and the other taking her hand. The orchestra was far enough away that they could still hear it.
Twilight took the lead, letting the music guide him. The fountain’s water and muffled music were the only sounds that filled the area.
It was only the two of them that existed at that moment.
…The world.
…The adventure.
Nothing mattered at that moment.
“You look absolutely gorgeous in that dress.” Twilight slipped out a small growl. “Ravishing even.”
Red dusted her cheeks. “Well, aren't you just laying it on thick?” She lightly teased back.
It was his turn to turn red. “It’s the truth though. I’m just saying it how I see it.”
“Oh…” Pinky looked away shyly, before glancing up at Twilight again.She brushed off some of the dust on his shoulder. “You also clean up quite nicely. You're very handsome in that suit.”
“Warriors did it.” Twilight sighed, twirling her before bringing her back in.
“Well then… I’ll be sure to thank him later.” She was getting more confident with teasing him, but her face fell. “But… Twi?” Pinky looked down as if to find the right words. “Can I ask about what happened a few weeks ago?”
Twilight tilted his head as he pulled her into a slow spin. What exactly was a few…
 Oh…
“You mean with Greyson? Or the mask?”
“Both if I’m being honest.” Pinky’s blush only grew. “You called me your mate.”
Those few words made Twilight pause. It felt like ice water was dumped on him. “I- uh… Look, if your uncomfortable with that-“
“No!” Both of them were shocked at her outburst. “I mean… I don’t- I don’t mind…”
Hope quickly bubbled up and brought back warmth in him. He leaned in. “You don’t?”
She nodded and relief just flooded back into him. “Thank you” Twilight dragged Pinky into a hug. “I swear I’ll do things right.”
“You don’t need to do things right.” She whispers. “Just hold me.”
 Twilight could do that…
 He could do that with no problem.
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tf2-oneshots · 11 months
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hello! can i request a soldier x spy fic that spy takes soldier to go on a victory date because they won over the blue team and they go to a Really fancy restaurant and solly get embarrassed that he doesn’t know how to use fancy forks and spoons and spy helps him out, spy not getting frustrated with solly lake of knowledge on all the fancy stuff and in the end enjoying their meal (sorry for being a long request i just NEED more content of them and Thank you very much in advance!!!)
Never be sorry for long requests!! You have no IDEA how much i love these goofballs
Warnings: none!
Rating: General
His collar is itchy. His blazer is sweaty. His shoes are too tight. Soldier gives his tie a gentle tug, hoping to loosen it enough for him to breathe. He looks down to his arm where Spy linked hers. He looks so graceful. Every step in her heels is smooth as if he’s worn them hundreds of times. He probably has actually. The same goes for her dress. A smooth burgundy that hugs her figure down to the knees. Beneath it, a pair of nude stockings sit upon shaved legs.
The waiter guides them to their table. Soldier does his best to squeeze through the sea of tables despite the strange look. The waiter probably doesn’t realize that Soldier is, well, a soldier! He knew taking off his helmet was a bad idea. Even if Spy knows, it’s not enough for Jane. What good are his medals if he never shows them?
“We’ll start with salads.” Even her words are graceful. Soldier looks around, trying to make sense of the whole restaurant. It’s Italian, which explains the strange decorations. It should be American themed with flags and steaks!
“Is everything alright, Jane?” Spy looks up from her menu. His red lipstick shines in the low lighting. How the hell is anyone meant to look at the menu let alone see?
“I am perfectly fine!” A few odd looks. Damnit, too loud. Soldier lowers his head, focused on the menu. Where are the pictures? What the hell is ‘mersalsa’? If anything, he can point to something random and hope for the best. That usually works.
Soldier glances at the glasses of wine poured for them. He grabs the neck with his fist, which makes Spy raise her brow. Okay, maybe just his thumb and index? No, that’s not it. Damnit, how does Spy do it again?
“I’m surprised to see you interested in wine, mon étoile.” Spy can’t count the number of times he watched Soldier guzzle cans of beer. Certainly enough for him to wind up blackout drunk, and naked, in the common room. A traumatic sight for a very unfortunate Scout.
“I like wine. It tastes…good.” He takes a sip, resisting the urge to gag. Damn thing tastes like rotten grapes. How can Spy sip it so easily? Soldier watches her drink and quickly fixes how he holds the wine glass. Its a shock that his big, meaty hand didn’t shatter the thin glass.
Their salads finally arrive. Soldier isn’t sure why it has little red things that look like raisins, but he doesn’t mention it. He unrolls the silverware only to see three forks, four spoons, and two knives. Soldier reaches for the middle fork. No, wait, the one on the left. The biggest fork has to be for the main course, right? So its the tiny one, or is that the dessert fork?
As Spy bites into her cranberry salad, he notices the turmoil Soldier is in. His hand hovers over the forks, and the spoons for a brief minute, struggling to pick the one for salads. Her hand lays atop his, guiding him to the middle one.
“That one, dearest.” Soldier thanks her and finally begins eating. He tries to shovel massive clumps of lettuce into his mouth, but Spy clears her throat. He takes the smaller knife, demonstrating how to cut into their starter before taking a bite.
Soldier wants to beat the crap out of whoever made so many different types of utensils. He gives a grumble, trying to cut the lettuce without shaking the table. He’s not trying to be so brutish, but its all he knows! How can Spy do this with every meal? They should just get rid of forks and only use hands like nature intended!
“Jane, I don’t mind if you don’t know which one to use.” Their empty plates are set aside. Soldier tries to relax, but his shirt is one slouch away from bursting open. He grabs one of the rolls from the basket, ripping it in half only to groan. He’s supposed to use a knife! Is he even allowed to pick it up with a bare hand?
“I wanted to impress you. I know you like fancy men, but I learned my manners in the trenches.” Meaning Soldier would roll around in abandoned war zones and pray he didn’t step on a landmine. Would be fun now since he has respawn, but not so much as a 10 year old digging for free memorabilia.
“I’m not dating you for your manners. I’m dating you because I love you.” Spy reaches over, cupping his face affectionately. The two share a kiss, and Spy does the unthinkable. He takes a dinner roll and rips it in half like a barbaric animal. Soldier laughs, raising one of his halves like a glass and clinking it against Spy’s.
While not a perfect man, nor one with refined taste in any way, Soldier is a good lover. Spy doesn’t mind his improper ways of eating or the amount of sauce that managed to stain his mouth. She loves Soldier, flaws and all. Even if they get a few side eyes during dinner. He can always stab anyone that gives them trouble.
Need me a girl like Spy -H
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mipsyg · 1 year
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this is the fastest i’ve ever gotten into something and also the fastest i’ve quit being into it lmfao but i am thankful for the leaks because at least i can process how truly awful that finale is before it airs. i would have been CRUSHED if i watched that with no warning. whoever leaked it really saved my soul bc now i don’t have to watch adrien say he doesn’t know how he’s ever gonna compare to his fucking awful abusive father. fuck whoever came up with those lines btw
i get that adrien’s supposed to be the princess, the damsel in distress, and he needs ladybug/marinette to rescue him all the time blah blah, whatever but my god at least let him be there for it??
i also get why chat noir can’t be there, a) that would mean no bugnoire and they obviously really wanted bugnoire (ugly ass design btw but that could just be me being bitter) for the final fight b) he could very easily get akumatized (chat blanc), monarch could literally mind control him to turn against ladybug the moment he realizes adrien is chat (ephemeral) etc etc, ok valid, but let adrien without the ring be there for it? let ladybug send the goddamn text message and have adrien realize he can’t disobey his father and going there as chat noir isnt gonna end well, let him send the ring with plagg, let felix free him and kagami or whatever idc how, like most of the finale could have been kept the same if they really wanted bugnoire to fight monarch by herself but they really couldn’t let adrien be the one trying to reason with his father?????? like ... why IS HIS GIRLFRIEND OF TWO DAYS DOING THAT INSTEADJSDKJD WHO CARES
wouldn’t it have been amazing to see gabriel not mind controlling his slave son to shut up and instead letting him speak out for once? since he’s suddenly so willing to do the right thing for him? since apparently he realizes he was wrong?? adrien can get taken out before bugnoire detransforms if the problem of him being there is the coveted identity reveal (it’s forever ruined now imo like how is anyone supposed to root for the love square after this mess but that’s a topic for another day) that they’re clearly saving for season 16 so people will still have a reason to watch the show.
if the audience is supposed to sympathize with gabriel bc he sacrificed himself so his son wouldn’t be left alone bc of the choices HE made, what’s wrong with adrien knowing both the bad and the good?? if the audience can feel bad for gabriel, apparently only a misguided family man, newly appointed father of the year™️ , why can’t adrien?? let him be conflicted about how his father terrorized a whole city for months bc he was unable to let the past go but also gave his life in the end to solve the mess HE made?? let him be sad and but also thankful that he isn’t gonna be alone and then guilty for feeling like that?? oh wait, if adrien has problems of his own then he can’t be marinette’s perfect sweet boyfriend anymore. my bad, how could i think adrien gets to have any worries and problems apart from trying and failing at being worthy of marinette’s love. adrien standing up for himself? NO! why would he want to do anything for himself when marinette is right there being so amazing and he can just make his whole world, dreams and motivations revolve around her. 🙄🙄🙄
now this finale wouldn’t suck so much if at least there was a cliffhanger of ladybug telling chat noir what really happened, bc that would mean they intended to give the lies and secrecy of the finale a purpose in s6. cause i get why she isn’t telling adrien (like where would she even start lmfao) but why does chat noir not get to know who he fought against for months?? but this not happening makes me think they had no plans for it to be brought up in s6 at all when they wrote that script and it’s truly the end they thought the agreste arc deserved lmao i would love to be wrong but i’m not feeling hopeful. 
the best (worst) part?!?! adrien not finding out his father is monarch is only one of the two enormous life changing secrets he doesn’t get to find out this season. however, i have a feeling his being a sentibeing will be brought up again and he’ll find out eventually but only after he’s been mind controlled some more since his mom, his pseudo-mom, his twin cousin and his gf don’t think it’s necessary to warn him about the importance of those rings. everyone and their mamas gonna be using those rings next season methinks lmfao
anyways fuck this show and i feel sorry for every adrien fan out there that is choosing to remain leakfree and expecting adrien to do anything in the final fight against his abusive father and literal supervillain enemy lmfao you’d think either those would give him a key role in the monarch takedown but uh why would it when marinette can do everything by herself and way better than he ever could. he’ll just take a nap instead.
tales of ladybug and cat noir except when cat noir’s importance to the plot is gonna overshadow ladybug, then bugnoire can do it alone i guess. 
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fbfh · 1 year
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i have a request:: loudsimp!eddie x reader where reader sees him hanging out with chrissy, and she feels jealous even though she shouldn’t because she’s not eddie’s. but eddie picks up on this and he asks her about it at lunch. she shyly tells him whats wrong and he immediately gets up on the table and starts going off about how she’s his one and only and how much he loves her, louder than usual. then when he gets down he finally kisses the back of her hand maybe? or he walks her to her car at the end of the day and does it then? you can end it however you want, i just absolutely love the way you write loudsimp!eddie. thank you in advance!!! ♥️
TASTE. I literally love you anon /p You're completely correct bc as soon as eddie finds out you're jealous????? over him??????? his knee jerk reaction is to reassure you, but later when he's trying to fall asleep he keeps waking himself up, absolutely giddy that you got jealous over him. that you want him enough to glare at other girls.
you had seen them talk briefly a few times over the last few days, most recenlty right after school when you were getting ready for you extra curriculars. Eddie was headed back to that picnic table in the woods wasn't anything unfamiliar, but you didn't expect Chrissy Cunningham to follow him a few minutes later. it was weird. you found your mind hovering there the whole afternoon. you didn't know why you couldn't stop thinking about it. maybe she was meeting Jason in the woods, and Eddie was meeting a buyer. it was probably totally unrelated, so why couldn't you stop thinking about it? he's not in the parking lot after school, and you found yourself loitering around for much longer than you usually would. eventually it starts getting darker and later than it had been. you let out a huff, starting to cross the parking lot. who cares if Eddie snuck off with Chrissy instead of walking you to your car like he always does? he can hang around whoever he wants, it's not like he's your boyfriend or anything. your thoughts are racing, so you can't put a pin on which one is making your stomach twist like it is. you're so lost in your thoughts you don't notice Eddie running up behind you, until you're met with his voice.
"sorry I'm late, sweetheart. miss me?"
you're relieved, much more than you expect to be that he's here with you again, not off in the woods with someone. which he has every right to be, it's not like he's your boyfriend or anything, but he's here with you anyway. and you did miss him, more than you'd like to admit, but you hum in response. there's an uneasiness to the quiet as you walk this time, and he notices you're moving a little slower than usual.
"so, Chrissy Cunningham huh?" you say. it's meant to come off as lighthearted and playful but it just sounds petulant.
"yeah..." he says, watching you closely, trying to figure out what you're thinking. he's watched you so closely for so many years and he doesn't think he's ever seen you like this.
"she stopped by my spot to make a purchase." he clarifies, a smile kissing the corners of his lips as you seem... comforted by his words. he grabs the handle of your car, opening the door for you before taking your hand in his, gently grazing his fingers over your knuckles. this heart flips in his chest as you hold his hand back, and he waits for you to let go.
"just..." you start, voice low, not meeting his eyes, "make sure you're on time tomorrow, yeah?" you try to chuckle at the end to break some of the tension stirring inside you, but it's thinly veiled, not sounding quite as natural as you'd wanted it to. he agrees, watching you closely as you squeeze his hand once before getting in your car. it wasn't a demand or a jab like it might have sounded to someone else, it was a hopeful plead. you want him to keep choosing you over everyone else. you want his attention, which means maybe... maybe you want him. he's so elated afterwards that he headbangs in his van for like 10 minutes before he goes home, and spends the rest of the night wide awake, thinking about how you got jealous, how you want his attention, to be a priority to him. maybe he should sell weed to cheerleaders more often.
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inuhiime · 1 year
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:: 𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒 ! ──── ⪩⪨ 𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒
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' i wonder if you remember me as i was. sometimes i think of those days. do you? '
' your story is close to ending, and even you can't escape it. but what ending will you make for yourself? '
' you've taken a bloody road here, and no one has enjoyed it more than i, but there are still a few choices to make '
' vermin, blood, and betrayal. it's happening again. i hope you're ready '
' there will come a time when we must part. i only tell you this in the hope to make easier our farewells '
' every time you drew your blade, a part of her died '
' i don't feel safe. what is wrong with this city? '
' you should have forgotten my name the day you heard it '
' have i changed, or does everything just look different when you're not wearing a crown? '
' in the days that follow, your trials will be great '
' outlive me? you will not outlive me '
' your father was better to you than mine was to me, but he's still a liar at heart '
' you gave yourself over to blood and terror, gave it everything you had '
' we make our choices and take what comes and the rest is void '
' you'll always remember the truth, won't you? your truth, at least '
' strange how there's always a little more innocence to lose '
' i'm older than the rocks this place is built on, and even i didn't see that coming '
' shoot me. better me than them '
' is it just revenge you're after, or do you have another plan in your mind? '
' stay right there. security wants a word with you '
' you have no right to be here, stranger '
' i see everything. i see forever, and right now i see a man walking a tightrope over a sea of blood and filth '
' i am the one who sees it all. i see everything. you see nothing '
' i've lived a long, long time, and these are the moments i wait for '
' how does it feel now, knowing your allies betrayed you? '
' i see inside you. but you're not as twisted as i thought you'd be '
' he loves you. i can feel it now. it fills me with rage '
' funny how the final days always mean so much '
' what happens to scary monsters in the end? '
' how many of your own subjects are you ready to slaughter and what are you willing to become? '
' all things end, all things burn to ash. but you, my friend, burn bright '
' you make your own choice and accept the price '
' when you are near, my heart is at peace '
' i will remember none of you! i will not remember any of you '
' more innocent blood killed? it doesn't have to be like this. we know it '
' without me, you cannot kill her. with me, she will tear you to bits '
' people don't hide their faces unless they're up to something bad '
' do you ever hear your name in the buzzing of the flies? '
' ever find yourself forgetting things? simple things? '
' it seems rather rude of you to die here, whoever you were '
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locke-esque-monster · 5 months
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Miscellaneous (and by no means comprehensive) thoughts on Daryl Dixon tv show
The English major in me loves the narrative symmetry in making Daryl cut off the hand of someone who is a semi-redeemable dick after giving Rick so much shit about putting Merle in that position in season 1.
Likewise for whatever is happening with the symbolism of Daryl using the flag to kill a zombie. Or him fighting his way off the beaches of France as a reverse of his grandfather.
Did I almost instantly figure out that guy dying on the beach was an ancestor on Daryl's? Yes. But subtle storytelling has never been this universe's forte.
Good Lord, the abundance of religious imagery in this show. I don't hate it... but Jesus Christ (I'm referring to the exclamation - not who Laurent is the least subtle stand-in for him).
Ah, so apparently even in France they don't have haircuts in the apocalypse. Clearly the only people who knew how to give a haircut lived in Alexandria (Jessie, Enid), and now they're dead we're forever doomed to shaggy-haired children and trying to peer through a curtain of hair to read Daryl's expression. How the hell does anyone fight a zombie with all that hair in their face, and no hair ties? Or are the men like, incapable of cutting their hair without a woman handling it?
We need more fighting nuns on tv shows.
I have been inordinately stressed every time I see Carol's knife get left somewhere in France. I'm starting to wonder if it returns to your pocket ala Riptide from the Percy Jackson books.
I don't hate the possibility of Daryl/Isabelle the show is dancing around. It's like Daryl/Connie - it's got a solid foundation, I can see why someone would ship it and I respect that. But it's not the ship of my heart I'm (clownishly) holding out hope for - Daryl/Carol.
I love how TWD gave the remaining episodes of the last season a single "fuck" per episode and now Daryl can just sprinkle them into his conversation at will. It feels like justice or recompense for every character who should have always been saying "fuck" at will on tv (looking at you Dean Winchester).
Carol, my queen, my inspiration, my favorite morally gray woman on tv - God, I've really missed you.
Second to that, I've missed the hell out of that pixie cut from peak Carol era. Carol knows exactly what haircut is practical on a mission.
For all that I heard about a twist, all I could figure during the radio call was Rick or Michonne was coming back. Or even that broken-up line was a trick, and Carol was just asking Daryl to come back safely. Maybe the phone call was a set-up for a reunion of Daryl & Carol in the finale. It wasn't until the car chase and right around where it stopped did it snap into my head that no one was getting out of that car but Carol. Bless whoever did something to ensure Carol got her proper ending. She never would have let Daryl go off on all these adventures that long, or alone, without looking for him.
I can't help but wonder what Carol in France would have entailed and how the story would have played differently. How would she have dealt with her relapsed Christianity? Or addressing any history she may have with France (aspirations to go there, history with Ed's family likely being French with that last name)? Or was the story always meant to split them up?
That said, if I can't have a Daryl and Carol together show (because oh my god, they would have to avoid them talking about their feelings too much and they have decided to avoid this by separation), I will certainly take a whole season of Carol. Give me all of the Carol.
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found--family · 9 months
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Gotham Knights predictions for the finale! 
I've made guesses throughout the season for how things might progress with characters and plot - most were wrong, which I love because I was pleasantly surprised, but some were right: like fugue!Harvey being Duela's real father and I truly love that twist so much! My point: this show delivers every week on the twists so I'm gonna put my theories here knowing they're probably not accurate and we'll probably be pleasantly surprised yet again, but it helps to lay everything out (heads up: I'm only focusing on Harvey, Rebecca and Duela in this post).
re: Harvey + Rebecca + Duela 
Harvey has been captured by the Talons/Rebecca. So has Duela? 
1. I'm so curious to see whether Rebecca tries to wake dark!Harvey hoping he'll join her side, because he did spin that being with Rebecca was for Harvey's benefit so maybe he knows she's evil but doesn't care? Or whether Harvey will invite dark!Harvey to take over so he can stop Rebecca and save them - but I wonder if dark!Harvey will then choose to side with Rebecca? 
2. In the trailer we hear Rebecca say Look who's come out to play, and since she knows Harvey's musical trigger she's probably the one to bring out dark!Harvey. The question is: why? Does she want to offer him the chance to join her side in her evil plan? It stands to reason that dark!Harvey knew about her because she let him out and he was still down to fool around. Perhaps she sees dark!Harvey as more of a wild card, harder to control, but he could still be a strong ally [re:pawn] if she helps get him relected as DA and/or Mayor. 
3. In any case: what happens when dark!Harvey takes control? Given his self proclaimed status as Harvey's protector - specifically against the court - it doesn't really make sense that he would join dangerous Rebecca (and keep control just to spite him) but Harvey did 'kill' him so maybe he takes some time to be selfish, which could include Rebecca offering him the same deal of immortality and maybe even a way to stay in control indefinitely? 
4. In the trailer for 1x13 we see dark!Harvey laughing in the same owl hall Rebecca is in. Has she set him free? Is he setting his own double-cross plan in motion? Another snippet shows (presumably) dark!Harvey holding a gun: it's pointed to the ground along with his eyesight so whoever/whatever he's shooting at is on the ground and honestly I have no idea aside from him needing to wound/kill someone (but he told harvey in their dream convo that neither of them were killers, so is this their first kill?) but maybe something is more likely. 
5. Though it makes some sense, personally I don't want dark!Harvey to side with Rebecca because he's not a villain (yet). I want her to try and sell him immortality (and possibly control) but he refuses - but may also play her for a bit first? Maybe he agrees to her plan if only to be freed of his restraints. In any case, things get complicated with Duela.. 
6. Duela is bound in a warmly-lit room that looks to be the same place as Rebecca (pointing a gun at her?*) and dark!Harvey (laughing at her?*) beside a ticking bomb. Tens of thousands of people will die, Duela argues and the flip of the former Joker's daughter and small-time criminal wanting to save innocent people while the former white knight DA of Gotham is now an unhinged adversary is top-notch storytelling. 
* 6b. it could be that dark!Harvey is laughing at Rebecca, and at a separate point she is pointing the gun at Harvey (who is now back in control): warning him not to try and save his own daughter, making him choose and making her choose between having dark!Harvey at her side or killing Harvey (because he doesn't have any Electrum in him yet so he can't heal from a gunshot and will likely be left behind to be blown to bits alongside Duela). 
7. It's unclear how Duela came to be where she is. Her mother would only betray her for a high price - at the end of 1x12 we see her drug Duela and say the money is just too good, so perhaps she intends to collect on the ransom for the last fugitive. Does Duela escape? But before she can help free her friends a Talon captures her and brings her to Rebecca? As for the bomb: I'm guessing Rebecca is trying to set Duela up to take the fall, and in the aftermath she (and perhaps dark!Harvey) will rebuild Gotham to her liking. 
8. But this is the finale and we know what's coming: Harvey's disfigurement is imminent. As the summary mentions: Harvey is faced with an impossible decision that could have devastating consequences. Which brings me back to both Harveys and Duela: 
9. How dark!Harvey feels about Duela is unknown. Did he know about her existence? This matters because of context: Duela is bound next to a bomb that will kill her while Rebecca does her evil monologue and dark!Harvey stands at her side. The summary mentions an 'impossible decision' with 'devastating consequences': I'm guessing Rebecca can't shoot Duela because that would prove (in the rubble and remains of the bomb blast) that she was a victim not the perpetrator, but she needs Duela to die in the blast. Perhaps we will see Harvey fight for control over dark!Harvey in order to save his daughter - which would be a beautiful contrast to Duela 'killing' him - and in so doing Rebecca decides he's not worth it and leaves them both to die? Or maybe Harvey shoots Rebecca? (and she can't die because of the Electrum so maybe while he's not looking she gets away). 
10. There's also the question of whether Duela remains with Harvey or leaves to help her friends fight the Talons coming to kill them. Does Rebecca trap them both? In any case, It seems pretty likely that Harvey's disfigurement will be caused by the bomb blast, from him trying to stop or escape the bomb (I think Harvey would try to stop it while also making sure his daughter was safe, while dark!Harvey would get the hell out of there - but I think by this plot point Harvey will definitely be back in control). Perhaps he saves Duela, but with the blast supposedly being so deadly it begs the question: are we looking at the reality of a high civilian death toll, and if so how does Harvey survive? 
11. I'm also very curious to see how Duela reacts to dark!Harvey, and whether he or Harvey gets the chance to talk to her. I think if he does know about her he'll definitely confirm he's her bio dad, but at the very least he'll confirm being involved with her mom, and maybe even clarify that Harvey didn't know about her because he didn't even know about him (this could be telling, separating Harvey from his deeds in yet another protective move, meaning he still cares about Harvey). Seeing might be believing, so she might observe dark!Harvey and side with the whole double-persona thing rather than believe her mom - who just turned her in for a stack of cash. Poor Duela. I really hope she gets a nice bonding moment with Harvey before everything goes to hell, she deserves some positive, sincere parental memories. 
What about season 2?
Sadly, GK was cancelled. But we can still discuss, and create, and spread our enthusiasm and appreciation for this awesome show!
We know the finale will give us Two-Face. So is immortal!Rebecca dead? Because a bomb blast seems like a good way to make sure an immortal person stays dead. Or was she slated to re-emerge in season 2 as Two-Face's first nemisis? That idea has potential, especially given she's now an established villain. Or were the plans for season 2 to make Two-Face the new villain? Perhaps the season would open six months after the blast that devestated Gotham, meanwhile the Bat Brats' names have been cleared and they've taken up the official savior role as the Gotham Knights. And in the shadows Two-Face takes advantage of the city's chaos. 
Throughout season 1 Duela came to truly care about her friends, so despite whatever happens in the finale with Harvey, her newly emerged goodness has me thinking she'd stick with her savior friends moving forward. But I still love the idea of her somehow being involved with or just simply fascinated by Two-Face, especially considering that's her father - proven, not some fairytale about the Joker. Like every Bat Brat, she has some serious parental issues, and part of her character journey is about discovering and defining her own self rather than be shaped by her parents, so it might not make sense for her to stay in contact with Two-Face, but I can see the fic playing out in my mind and I love it. 
I'm not sure how it works with cancelled shows, whether the showrunner and writers and cast can share what-could-have-been, but I think once the finale airs we'll get a good idea what direction they were planning to take the story. 
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