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fandomxpreferences · 1 year

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Guess You Really Did It This Time (Part 2 of Heartbroke Bitch)

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Ex!Rafe Cameron x Female!Reader

TW:ANGST, honestly I think thats it?

Summary: Rafe confronts you after you sleep over at his house, but it goes so much worse than he imagined.

Word Count: 2.6k

A/N: This was supposed to end fluffy, but It wasnt realistic so it'll be a three parter (maybe 4? who knows.)

You blink a few times as your vision adjusts to the blinding sun rays pouring through the curtains directly into your eyes. Your throat is hoarse as you groan; this is the worst comedown you've experienced so far.

It takes a second for you to place your surroundings, and the events of last night come rushing back when you do. The bed is empty and you hear the shower running, a hushed "thank you" falling from your mouth.

You take the opportunity gratefully, hastily ripping off Rafe's sweatshirt and squeezing back into your dress. Your phone and bag are on the nightstand, and you grab them before turning the handle to his room as quietly as you can.

You've never been so happy to be familiar with the layout of Tannyhill as you creep down the stairs and toward the front door.

You freeze when you register Rose staring at you with a knowing look. Your hand lifts with a short wave and you let yourself out before she can start asking questions.

You pull out your phone and call JJ, aware that he's the least likely to judge you. He is your best friend after all.

It only rings once before the blonde's voice rings out and you breathe a sigh of relief.

"Well, well, well. If it's not the woman, the myth, the le-"

You cut him off, not in the mood as you fight a violent case of the spins and try to keep from dry heaving.

"Shut it, JJ. Can you come get me? I'm at -"

This time he cuts you off and your eyebrows pinch together.

"Yeah, I know where you are Y/N/N. Give me five."

With that he hangs up, leaving you with more questions than you originally had. Number one being how the hell does he know where you are?

You don't even have your shoes but you can't bring yourself to care as you bolt down the yard and start your trek into town.

You know JJ will find you and the last thing you want is to be caught waiting by Rafe.

A few short minutes later you hear the dirt bike and stop in your tracks. You turn so your body is facing JJ and you give him a disheartened look.

"You have to be fucking kidding. JJ I'm wearing a dress and I'm three seconds from puking!" You complain and he gives a boyish smile while reaching into his backpack.

"That's why I brought these," he answers while offering you a pair of his sweatpants. You take them hesitantly and slip them on as he continues.

"As for puking, at least you don't have to worry about it getting in a car."

You groan as you kick a leg over his bike, careful to keep your bare feet away from the hot exhaust and wrap your arms around his torso.

"I literally hate you."

He chuckles as he revs the engine and twists to look back at you.

"Love you too."

Back at Tannyhill, Rafe's heart drops when he comes out of the bathroom to an empty bed. His hoodie is crumpled on the floor and he sighs.

He gets dressed quickly and bolts down the stairs, praying you're just getting something to eat the way you normally would.

When he finds the kitchen empty, his eyes flutter shut as familiar loneliness overtakes him. His thoughts are interrupted by Rose clearing her throat.

"She left a little while ago. Before you ask; no she didn't say anything."

He nods while grabbing his keys and your shoes before racing toward his truck. He already knows where you'll be.

The ride back has you clutching your pearls, literally and figuratively, as you barely keep consciousness.

Your headache has escalated to a migraine by the time you reach the chateau and you're pretty sure you could drink one of the Great Lakes all on your own.

You ignore the rest of the group teasing as you stumble inside, rummaging for some painkillers. You find them quickly and pour a handful into your mouth, not caring enough to check the dosage.

It can't be any more dangerous than what you've been doing anyway. You don't even bother with a cup, and JJ tsks behind you as you put your head in the sink and gulp water straight from the faucet.

"This is the most chaotic thing I've ever seen, and that's saying something. You're like a feral dehydrated animal."

Your only response is a middle finger as you pass him, clambering your way into the guest room you've claimed as yours.

Your familial situation is pretty similar to JJ's, without the violence, and up until the breakup you'd stayed with Rafe.

Now all your belongings are littered around the chateau. You grab a shirt and change quickly, paying no mind to your best friend, before plopping down on top of the comforter.

"How'd you know I was at Rafes?"

Jj rubs the back of his neck as you look up at him expectantly, already knowing you won't like the answer.

"He texted Sarah a picture of you sleeping on him when she asked him if he'd heard from you."

You take in his words and scoff in disbelief.

"Of course he did."

You collapse onto your front with your head buried into a pillow, craving relief from the ache in your body. JJ sits next to you and rubs your neck to ease your migraine, and you let out a content moan.

It's not even an hour before you hear a car pull up outside and you release a whine. You already know who it is, and you're decidedly not in the mood to deal with it.

JJ feels you tense under his large hand and sighs.

"Want me to get rid of him?"

You shake your head as you sit up and run a hand down your face.

"He'll just keep coming back. Might as well rip off the Bandaid."

He kisses the top of your head and stands, sending a sharp glare at your ex when he passes him in the hallway.

Rafe assumes that JJ left the room you're in and knocks on the door frame before stepping past the threshold.

His eyes take in the mess before landing on your tired figure. You look like hell with sunken bloodshot eyes and clammy skin.

He holds your shoes up to show you he brought them back before dropping them in the pile of other heels on the ground.

His brows furrow as he turns to you, taken aback at your sudden collection of designer items.

"You didn't have any of this when we were together. Where'd the sudden influx of Louboutin and high-end fashion come from?"

You stare at him blankly for a second before shrugging.

"Does it matter?"

He runs a hand through his hair, a telltale sign of his stress, as he takes in your defensive tone.

"I'm just curious."

He doesn't like the way your lips curl up into a vicious smile as if you take pleasure in the answer you're about to give.

"Gifts from my male suitors."

You don't give him time to respond before brushing past him and walking straight out of the chateau. He heaves an irritated breath when you let the screen door slam in his face and wrenches it back open.

He follows hot on your tail as the rest of the group watches the impending WWE smackdown.

"Come on, baby. I just want to talk."

You let out a loud laugh while continuing on your path and he hates how indifferent you're acting.

"You can talk all you want, but no promise I'll listen. And don't call me that."

You pretend not to notice your friends wince at your snarky reply in your peripheral as they try - and fail- to act like they aren't eavesdropping.

"So that's it? You don't want anything to do with me? What the hell was all that last night, then?" He shouts and you stop abruptly, causing him to slam into your back.

"A lapse in judgment."

He scoffs and you close your eyes, trying desperately not to let him get a rise out of you.

"Seems like you've been having a lot of those lately."

At that, you whip around on your heel, your hair smacking him in the face with the ferocity of your movement. He's got an arrogant smirk painted on his lips and your eyes narrow.

"I wasn't doing anything you weren't! If memory serves me, you're the one that walked out! Not me!"

Your voice is shrill as you scream in his face, tears starting to pour as you shove him back. All the pent-up hurt and rage are finally rearing their ugly heads, and it only makes you angrier. JJ moves to intervene, but John B stops him with a hand on his forearm.

"No, let them get this out. She's only going to continue on her bender if they don't resolve this."

JJ looks to Sarah for help but she only nods, agreeing with her boyfriend. The blonde sits back down with a huff, clearly unhappy at the situation unfolding in front of him.

Rafe shakes his head with flared nostrils, and it brings you a tinge of happiness to see him as upset as you. His chest is heaving as crimson crawls up his neck and cheeks.

"Because I was scared, not because I don't love you!"

As soon as the words leave his mouth, his eyes go wide and your mouth drops open in shock. You vaguely register Sarah gasp off to the side, and if you looked, you're sure you would find JJ with his jaw clenched hard enough to break teeth.

"Oh fuck off Rafe, what is that supposed to mean? You toss me aside like trash and then come back a month later to confess your love? What the fuck is wrong with you?"

Your voice is significantly quieter now, your face scrunched up into a deep scowl.

"Y/N, even if you tell me to fuck off and never speak to me again, I need you to know the truth. The past month has been miserable and I hate what I did to you. I'm not judging you for how you handled it, I have no right."

You interrupt him with a scoff and stick a hip out.

"No, you don't."

He gives you a pointed look before continuing and you take a deep breath.

"I didn't leave because I don't love you, or because you're a pogue, or whatever else you might believe. I left because I do love you, though I didn't realize it at the time. Y/N, I'm fucked up. Like, something isn't right in my head. I didn't want to keep hurting you over and over, so I thought I'd let you move on and be happy with someone else."

You mull over his words and run a hand through your messy hair.

"I know."

Confusion washes over him and you rub your temples.

"I know you're fucked up, Rafe. I know everything, we were together for a year. But that doesn't mean you get to make the choice for me. I know you don't believe you're worthy of love, I get it. I've been in love with you since Midsummers, but I'm not going to stand here and beg you to let me in."

You wipe aggressively at the tears that are now rapidly cascading down your cheeks and off your face, ready to be done with this.

"I'm not asking you to do that. If anything, I'm begging for you to let me in. Please, I can't stand the thought of you out here putting yourself in harm's way. I haven't been with anyone else, and I don't want to be."

The rest of the group might as well have popcorn as their eyes dart back and forth between the two of you, unable to look away.

"No, Rafe. You're lying. I saw you that night with Missy!"

Everyone's head turns to look back at Rafe to gauge his reaction to your outburst.

"Yikes, not looking good for him." John B remarks and Sarah kicks his leg.

"Shut up, maybe there's an explanation."

John B is about to argue when Kie glares at them.

"Shut the fuck up, I can't hear!"

Rafe shakes his head, his hands coming up to cover his mouth before they drop back down to his sides. He takes a step closer and his heart plummets when you immediately move backward.

"No, I know what you think you saw. Nothing happened, I swear. We went back to my place and she slapped me because I moaned your name!"

"Oh shit." JJ snickers and the rest of the group sends him daggers as he raises his hands defensively.

"That's nice, Rafe. It doesn't change the fact you brought a woman home to the bed we shared less than a week later with the intent of fucking her."

He tilts his head back and stares at the sky, growing more frustrated by the second.

"I didn't though! You actually fucked god knows how many dudes!"

It's a low blow and he knows it, he can see you shutting down by the way your face drops and your shoulders tense.

"Yeah, I did. At least I got shit out of it. Besides, I brought them back here or went to theirs. I never would have brought them someplace that still smelled like you! That space was sacred Rafe, and you defiled it. My fucking clothes were still there."

Rafe's lip quivers as the gravity of the situation crushes him. He doesn't know how to fix it this time.

"How do I fix this, Y/N? Please, just tell me and I'll do it."

You sniffle as you shake your head, another tear falling into the dirt below.

"No, Rafe. I think you should leave."

You look away as he drops to his knees in front of you, literally pleading with you as he cries freely now.

"Y/N, please. Please, I know I fucked up. Please."

You stifle a sob as John B and JJ pull him to his feet and drag him away. You watch as he fights against the two men, too focused on you to care about being pushed around. He screams out as he thrashes, his voice breaking from the sheer volume and pain.

"Baby, please! Y/N, don't do this. I'll fix it, okay? I promise I'll fix it! I'll be better for you!"

You collapse into Kie and Sarah when their arms wrap around you, every emotion you've repressed suffocating you at once.

Sarah presses your face into her shoulder, her own tears falling as she keeps you pointed away from her hysterical brother.

Rafe is all but carried back to his truck against his will, and JJ pins him against the door.

"Rafe," He begins, but he's cut off by a particularly hard shove from the man. He leans his weight forward, using it as leverage, and puts his arm across Rafe's throat to still his movements.

"Look, man! I know you're upset, but so is she. You need to get the fuck out of here, okay? I'm trying to be nice about this, but you're testing my very thin patience."

Rafe finally admits defeat and slumps down as he watches your knees hit the ground, heavy sobs wracking your body. This is exactly what he was trying to avoid, he never wants to be the source of your pain.

John B watches as the older Cameron drives away, releasing a breath he didn't know he was holding. Maybe now you'll start to cope in healthier ways.

Rafe cries the entire way home, memories of your relationship flashing like movie scenes every time he blinks. He's going to fix this if its the last thing he does. He just needs a game plan.

Taglist for those who requested part 2!

@brooklynscherry-z @joselyn001 @writtenwordslover @craftyalmondghostflap @malfoytargaryen

#rafe cameron #Rafe Cameron imagine #Rafe Cameron fic #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron angst #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron fic #outer banks angst #outer banks imagine #outer banks fic #outer banks #outerbanks #outerbanks fic #outerbanks imagine #outerbanks angst

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lilacmingi · 13 days

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OPPOSITES ATTRACT

My works are 14+ ONLY. If you’re under 14 DO NOT interact with ne ir any of my works.

Pairing: Gryffindor!Jongho x Slytherin!fem reader

Word count: 4,408

Note: Final installment in the Hogwarts AU series! If you don’t know, the Hogwarts imagines for the other members are linked at the end! Reminder that this is an imagine from my Wattpad from 2023 so there will not be extra parts or continuations

Jongho wizzed through the air, holding the Quaffle close to him as he zoomed towards the opposing team's hoops, successfully tossing the ball through the goal, scoring yet again for Gryffindor.

"Yes!" You cheered only to quickly clamp your hand over your mouth afterwards, your outburst earning you some glances from your fellow housemates.

Maybe next time you should sit with the Gryffindors—then again, you'd stand out like a sore thumb. It was hard not to cheer for Jongho. He's the best quidditch player on the whole team, watching him is enough to put you on the edge of your seat. Yes, you two are from opposing houses, but you're the best of friends and you don't let old rivalries stop you from hanging out together.

The game came to a close and Gryffindor took the victory as expected. You had to keep your excitement at bay as you exited the stands to meet with your friend on the ground, holding it in long enough to part ways with the rest of your house.

Jongho approached you looking oh-so-handsome as usual, a thin layer of sweat on his face giving him a post-victory glow.

"That was awesome!" You squeaked.

"It was nothing." He huffed.

"Nothing? Every time I watch you play I'm on the edge of my seat. Honestly, there was a couple times I wasn't sure you'd score, but you pulled through every time."

His warm laughter filled the air as his cheeks turned pink, though that could have just been from all the activity out on the field.

"You act like I'm the best player on the team."

"You are!" You said enthusiastically, giving him a light punch on the arm. "We should celebrate your victory."

"By doing what?"

"We could go to Hogsmeade and grab a butterbeer." You suggested. "My treat."

Jongho's eyes lit up.

He loved butterbeer. You could remember the first time he tried it, the fond memory replaying in your head.

"When?"

"Tomorrow."

That heart-melting gummy smile of his broke out on his face as he nodded.

"Sounds good."

You and Jongho had been friends from day one, literally. You met on the train to Hogwarts and he was nervous as ever. He had only just recently found out there was magic in his family lineage and wasn't sure what to expect at Hogwarts as he had only found out it's existence a few weeks prior to the start of he school year.

"I don't know anything about this place and I'm nervous to be away from home for so long."

"There's nothing to be nervous about. You'll have fun, trust me." You told him. "I've been looking forward to this for a whole year. My older cousin told me they have entire feasts at Hogwarts. There's all sorts of food lined up on these really long tables that stretch across almost the entirety of the room."

"Wow. That sounds much better than instant ramen."

"Instant? Muggles have instant ramen?" You asked with wide eyes.

"Oh. It's not instant, it's just made in a shorter amount of time. We don't have magic so we have meals that can be made easily."

"Ooh. How long does it take?"

"Usually about three minutes unless you want to add extra stuff or cook your noodles longer."

"Three minutes is still really quick." You responded. "That's amazing."

"I guess it is." He chuckled.

Jongho thought so-called "muggle" things weren't special. After all, it's just how he goes about daily life, but seeing your reaction was amusing to him.

The both of you became friends very quickly during the duration of the train ride. You even sat together at the sorting hat ceremony, where you briefly explained what would occur.

"I hope we get into the same house together." You remember Jongho saying.

Unfortunately, you got sorted into different houses, you in Slytherin and him in Gryffindor, but that didn't bother you, nor did it stop the both of you from spending time together.

You and Jongho signed up to take a muggle appreciation class together where you paired up with each other since the professor wanted muggles or half-bloods to pair with purebloods. That was one of your favorite classes. You enjoyed learning about how muggles got through everyday life without magic as well as some of the things they had that you didn't, like pens, you found those to be quite fascinating. Your professor had a few and allowed everyone to try them out to see what they thought. You loved the pen and wondered why the school never used them instead of quills.

"You did so good at the game yesterday." You told Jongho.

He smiled, looking down bashfully. "Thanks."

"You're the best quidditch player at Hogwarts." You continued praising him.

Jongho was visibly holding back a bright grin, doing his best to keep it concealed as he fiddled with the packaging of his chocolate frog he purchased from the candy trolley.

"I get so caught up in the game. I'm sure my housemates want to kick me out." You chuckled.

He had seen you cheering him on many times before, even when Slytherin was against Gryffindor. It warmed his heart that you always cheered for him despite being in opposing houses and seeing you in the stands always gave him an energy boost during quidditch games, but he would never say it aloud.

Once you arrived at Hogsmeade, you couldn't contain your excitement, rushing Jongho off the train. He was fairly excited as well, but he wanted to keep his cool, putting on a calm exterior as he followed behind you through the metal archway with the town name on it.

Jongho's eyes glimmered in wonderment as he gazed at all the shops like it was his first time seeing them.

"Here we are." You announced, looking up at the sign for The Three Broomsticks.

Jongho was quick to step ahead of you and hold the door open. It was a small gesture but it made your heart flutter. Stepping inside the tavern, the both of you made your way to the bar, seating yourselves on the wooden stools that lined it. Someone came around shortly and took your orders before grabbing a couple glass steins, filling them with the sweet amber liquid you and Jongho came for.

"Two butterbeers." The barkeep said, setting the glasses down.

You rummaged in your bag and placed enough coins on the tabletop to pay for the beverages.

"Hey." Jongho frowned in disappointment, his hand halfway shoved in his pocket from trying to dig out money to pay himself.

"It's my treat." You smiled, lifting your stein up. "We're celebrating your big win, after all."

Jongho raised his large mug as well, clinking it with yours before taking a few large gulps of the butterscotch-flavored beverage.

Jongho let out an ahh sound, setting his glass down on the bar top. You chuckled softly at the foam that clung to his upper lip which made him look even more adorable than usual.

"What?" He inquired.

"You've got a little something here." You gestured on your own face.

"Oh." He laughed, his ears turning a light shade of pink as he grabbed a napkin and wiped his mouth.

"You got hit pretty hard by that one chaser on Slytherin. I thought you were going to get knocked off your broom. Are you alright?"

Jongho instinctively rubbed his shoulder while thinking back on the moment he got rammed in the side by one of Slytherin's chasers the day before.

"Yeah I'm fine. A little sore, but he didn't hit me that hard. It's nothing I can't handle."

You shook your head and stifled a laugh.

Jongho was a tough cookie and a strong person both mentally and physically, but that didn't stop you from checking up on him.

"So, should we shop while we're here?" You inquired before taking another drink of your butterbeer.

You could see the faintest hint of a smile playing at Jongho's lips. He loved Hogsmeade and always seemed so entranced by what it had to offer. Even after all these years you can still see how mesmerized he is by everything.

"We could... you know since we're in town." He responded.

"Alright. We can go wherever you want."

His face lit up at your offer.

Once your glasses had been emptied and your craving for butterbeer had been satiated, you and Jongho set off into Hogsmeade to browse the shops and see what grabbed your attention.

"Could we go into Spintwitches?" He asked you in an almost unsure manner, but you could tell by the gleam in his eye that he really wanted to go.

"Of course. Like I said, we'll go wherever you want."

As soon as you stepped foot in the sporting goods shop, you could see Jongho's face brighten, his eyes darting to all the different displays inside.

"Check it out." He marveled, scurrying over to one of the brooms on display.

Your eyes moved to the card set up with the name written across it.

"Hogwarts House Broom." You read aloud.

"It's enchanted to display the house colors of the owner." Jongho informed.

"Woah."

"Yeah. It's pretty awesome, isn't it?"

You nodded.

Though you were a pureblood wizard and Jongho was muggle-born, he seemed to have much more knowledge on quidditch than you. He knew anything and everything about types of brooms and what they do, whereas you didn't.

"This one can go up to seventy miles per hour." He pointed. "It's called the Silver Arrow. You see how the broom itself is made to look like an arrow?"

You nodded.

Honestly, you could listen to Jongho talk about brooms all day just to be able to see the enthusiastic expression on his face. Often times you find yourself thinking back on the day you first met him and how nervous he was to be attending Hogwarts. Now, he fits right in.

Jongho continued spouting off facts about each broom while you both perused the store for a few more minutes before deciding to move on.

"Where to next?" He inquired.

"How about Scrivenshaft's Quill Shop?"

He nodded and you both made your way in that direction.

Upon entering the quaint shop, the scent of parchment and ink reached your senses, a content smile settling onto your features. Displayed on the shelves were different quills that ranged in appearance. Some had fluffy, white feathers while others were flat with patterns on them. Your attention was drawn to a stunning peacock quill, the vibrant array of colors piquing your interest.

You had always been drawn to the captivating quill ever since you enrolled at Hogwarts years ago. Though with its flamboyant appearance, you had passed on buying one, not wanting to cause a distraction during class.

"I never really cared for quills." Jongho commented. "They're difficult to use and you have to keep dipping it in ink."

"Yeah, I can't understand why the school would still want to use them when there are things like pens."

"Ah." He chuckled, thinking back on when your professor for muggle appreciation class allowed everyone to try one out. "You were mesmerized by those things."

"How could I not be? They're much more convenient than a quill. You don't have to constantly dip it in ink."

"Stopping to dip your quill in ink seems like a waste of time if you think about how many times you have to do it during one class period." Jongho mentioned.

"Exactly!" You pointed. "I didn't even think about that."

A small laugh of amusement slipped out of Jongho as he shook his head. Seeing you getting fired up about pens versus quills was entertaining to him.

Moving right along, you started browsing the parchment and notebooks stacked on a shelf. One in particular had caught your eye and had you walking over to it, picking it up from the stack. You ran the pads of your fingers over the intricate embossed design in the leather of the notebook, tracing the swirls and curls on the cover. You enjoyed journaling and writing down good and exciting things that have happened to you, even sometimes writing down bad things just to vent your emotions. The pages in the current notebook you owned were only halfway filled, so there was no need to purchase the one you held in your hands, but it sure was pretty. Maybe you'd come back for it later when you needed a new journal.

You proceeded to the next display, perusing the items for a few moments before noticing Jongho's absence. He was standing with you when you first entered the store, but now you weren't sure where he had wandered off to.

After searching the shop for about a minute, you found Jongho looking at an inkwell filled with rainbow ink, turning the small glass jar around in his hand with a confused pout on his pretty lips that had your heart doing front flips.

"Do people actually use this?" He asked once you were close enough to hear him.

"Only for fun or pranks. It's not really suitable for classwork."

"Ah." He placed it back on the shelf. "People here seem to love their jokes. Prank quills, prank socks, a prank shop."

"Yeah." You chuckled. "Some people do. You'd be surprised how good business is at Zonko's."

"Are you ready to go?" Jongho asked, looking to see that you didn't have anything in your hands.

"Yeah. I didn't find anything."

"Alright. Moving on, then."

Your day at Hogsmeade was a lot of fun. You had stayed in town so long that you decided to grab lunch. Unfortunately, you weren't quick enough and Jongho had paid for your meal, which you shyly thanked him for. At the end of the day, you each left town with a bag of sweet treats from Honeydukes and a new piece of clothing from Gladrags. Jongho found a nice jacket and you managed to snag a pair of pants you had your eye on for a while.

"Thanks for taking me out today." Jongho told you on your walk back to the school.

"It was nothing. I wanted to celebrate your big win, plus I needed a day out. Can't be focused on studies all the time."

"Right." He chuckled.

Once inside the castle, the both of you parted ways to head to your respective dormitories, Jongho standing in the hallway for a moment, watching you walk away.

I should have said something. He thought to himself. It would have been the perfect opportunity. He let out a short huff of disappointment.

Maybe next time.

Jongho took a deep breath in an attempt to calm his racing heart. He had gone over everything at least a hundred times.

"Just say what you need to say. It's no big deal."

Gryffindors were supposed to be courageous and brave, but Jongho was currently lacking that trait. He wanted so badly to confess his feelings to you, but all he could think about was the many ways you'd reject him:

"I only see you as a friend."

"I like someone else."

"I'm sorry. I don't feel the same."

"I don't date muggles."

He groaned, throwing his head back in exasperation. It shouldn't be this big of a deal.

If only he had something that could help him out, give him that little boost of courage he needed.

Then, suddenly, a lightbulb went off in his head. A bravery potion. That's it! He knew how to make that. He just learned it a few weeks ago in potions class. Pulling out his cauldron, he went through the ingredients he remembered were used in the concoction, pulling them out and lining them along the desk.

Less than an hour later, he held a glass bottle in his hands, swirling the liquid around inside while examining it. He had never taken a potion before and was a little nervous, but he needed this. He was afraid he wouldn't be able to confess properly unless he had just a little bit of courage.

"I hope this works." He murmured before downing the potion.

You were walking down the hallway when Jongho came around the corner with a little pep in his step. It was evening and classes were over for the day, so you assumed that's why he appeared so chipper.

"There you are, pretty."

Your body stiffened, your heart leaping at the unexpected nickname.

"Pretty?" You whispered under your breath.

As soon as you were within reach, Jongho took hold of your hand and rubbed his thumb affectionately across your knuckles.

"I'm glad I found you. We need to talk."

"We do?" You questioned. "About what?"

"Follow me."

Jongho led you down the stone corridors of the castle until you arrived at a somewhat secluded area of the school that was, for the moment, free of any students or teachers.

"Is everything alright?" You asked, mildly concerned that he needed to discuss something serious with you.

"You're so beautiful." He sighed out, ignoring your question. "Have I ever told you that?"

Your eyes widened as a faint warmth touched your cheeks. "No."

"You are. Y/n, you are so stunning."

What's with the sudden compliments?

Jongho gazed at you dreamily. "You make my heart race every time I'm near you and when I see you in the crowd at quidditch games cheering for me, it makes me feel so giddy I can't even explain it. Sometimes I wish I could run up to you after a successful game and kiss you. I'd lift you off your feet and spin you around just like in the movies."

"Jongho." You uttered in disbelief.

"I love you so much, Y/n."

You could see the look in his eyes and tell by the way he was sputtering all of these confessions that something wasn't right.

"Are you okay?" You asked him.

"I'm fine." He giggled. "Better than ever."

You pressed your lips together in concern, cupping his cheeks to examine him.

"Please kiss me, Y/n."

You gasped softly at the request, your cheeks set ablaze. Oh how you wanted to give in. You wanted so badly to lock lips with him right then and there, but this wasn't right.

"What did you do, Jongho?" You asked.

"My name sounds so nice coming from your mouth, pretty." He sighed out.

"Jongho."

He giggled in response.

"What did you take?"

He reached into his bag and pulled out an empty bottle, handing it to you. You brought it to your nose, sniffing it, the scent of bubblegum reaching your senses.

Babbling Beverage.

"Jongho." You groaned. "What have you done?"

"It's a bravery potion, Y/n. No need to worry." He smiled almost drunkenly.

"This isn't a bravery potion, this is a Babbling Beverage. It makes you speak nonsense."

He scoffed in offense. "I'm not speaking nonsense."

"Come here." You brought him over to the corner of the secluded hallway, so you'd have a little more privacy.

"Are you mad at me?" Jongho asked.

"No, but why did you do it?"

"I wanted to confess to you but I was too scared. Isn't that silly? You told me Gryffindors are brave, and I usually am, but not today." He rested his head against the wall. "I needed something to help me so I brewed a bravery potion—or at least I thought it was."

"You... wanted to confess to me?"

"Yes. I like you so much, Y/n. You're so beautiful and funny and kind and you made me feel so welcomed on that very first train ride to Hogwarts. You were the first friend I ever made."

Your heart swelled with adoration at his words. Though he was under the influence of a potion, his words seemed genuine.

Jongho took his bag off, letting it fall to the ground as he stepped closer to you.

"I want to kiss you so badly." He murmured.

"I'm not sure that's a good ide-" Your sentence went unfinished as he gently took your chin between his thumb and index finger.

Staring into his captivating eyes, you found yourself wanting to give in, your gaze darting down to his pouty lips and imagining how soft they probably felt. Having his face so dangerously close to yours had you wanting to throw caution to the wind.

"Can I?" He asked.

The tone of his voice was so soft yet temping at the same time. Without mulling it over any further, you nodded.

Jongho didn't let another second pass before his lips landed on yours—and yes, they were soft. Right away, you reciprocated his actions, kissing him back with just as much fervor.

His fingers released your chin, moving to the back of your neck to pull you even closer, the action also causing your lips to press further into his. You could feel every dip and curve of his mouth, the sensation making your closed eyelids flutter. Your hands, which had been balled into fists at your sides, latched onto his shoulders, staying there for only a few moments before your fingers slid into his hair. Jongho's arm snaked its way around your waist, pulling your body flush against his. You gasped at his action, noting how strong he was and how tightly he was holding you against him with just one arm.

It was clear Jongho was starting to get comfortable as his kisses got more heated and somewhat sloppy. He began nipping lightly at your bottom lip, letting out quiet sighs when your nails grazed the nape of his neck.

"Keep doing that, pretty." He exhaled against your lips, sending a shiver down your spine and a rush of butterflies to your abdomen.

You boldly grabbed a handful of his hair and gave it an experimental tug, a quiet groan from him vibrating against your lips immediately after. His hand that was cupping the back of your neck dropped to your waist, squeezing your hip tightly. He then took a step forward, backing you against the stone wall behind you.

"You have no idea how long I've dreamt of this." He murmured, placing a kiss on your jawline

Heavy breaths escaped your lips, your chest heaving up and down while attempting to catch your breath. You had no idea Jongho could kiss so passionately... or boldly, and you were pleasantly surprised by this discovery.

"You're not the only one." You confessed.

He lifted his head to meet your gaze.

"I'm not?"

"No."

Jongho knew when you kissed back that it more than likely meant you felt the same about him as he does you, but hearing you practically confess had him reeling. He wanted to hear more.

"It's probably obvious at this point, but I'm head over heels for you, Jongho."

Still under the influence of the potion, Jongho blurted the first thought in his head.

"I love the way you say my name."

His lips were on yours again, hot and heavy. His kisses were desperate and fast-paced, making you weak in the knees. The Babbling Beverage made one speak nonsense and didn't have an effect on how they kissed, so this was all Jongho.

Your fingers curled around the collar of his robes, fisting the fabric in desperation while he practically devoured you.

It was at that moment, your foot bumped something on the floor which caused you to part ways. Glancing down, you found Jongho's bag that had been discarded only a few moments earlier lying on its side with something sticking out of it.

"What's this?" You asked, reaching for the object that had fallen out of his bag. It was wrapped in brown paper with twine tied around the it, a sprig of lavender tucked into the bow knotted neatly in the middle.

"Oh." The look on his face told you that it was something you weren't supposed to see.

The effects of the potion seemed to be wearing off as he dropped his head into his hands, letting out a groan of frustration.

"I was supposed to give that to you first, before I confessed." He grumbled, his voice muffled by his palms.

When he lifted his head, he saw that you were smiling.

"You got me something?"

"Yeah, but I messed it all up. I had a plan. Give you the gift, then confess. That stupid potion." He muttered the last part.

He only wanted something to give him a tiny boost of courage and instead he made the wrong thing and made himself babble like a fool. Then again, he did have an incredible makeout session with you, so did everything really go wrong?

"Here." He picked up the item and handed it to you.

You carefully took the gift from him, running your fingertips over the lavender.

"You wrapped it yourself?"

He nodded, holding his hands behind his back and rocking back on his heels.

Plucking the sprig of lavender out of the twine, you undid the knot and pulled back the wrapping. Inside was the leather-bound journal you were admiring at Scrivenshaft's just a day ago.

A quiet gasp left your lips. "How did you know?"

As far as you were aware, Jongho had been looking at inkwells when you were perusing the journals.

"I saw you eyeing it in the shop." He responded, holding back a grin, clearly proud of himself.

"You didn't have to."

"I know."

"Thank you." You embraced him in a one-armed hug. "Also, don't worry about how things went today. I think everything turned out perfect. And if I'm being honest, I really enjoyed that little kiss we shared."

"Little?" He raised a brow.

"Okay, not so little."

"I'd be happy to do it again." He grinned, leaning forward only for you to press your finger to his lips, halting his actions.

"Maybe later. I heard some voices down the hall a few seconds ago. Don't wanna get caught."

He pouted, his pillowy lips pressing against your index finger. Unable to resist his puffed out cheeks and pleading eyes, you let out a short sigh, caving immediately.

"We can go to the library. We're less likely to get caught there."

Jongho nodded vigorously in agreement, taking your hand and pulling you down the corridors towards the library, eager to lock lips with you once again.

Hongjoong ⟡ Seonghwa ⟡ Yunho ⟡ Yeosang ⟡ San ⟡ Mingi ⟡ Wooyoung

Masterlist ᝰ — enjoyed this imagine? reblogs & comments are very much appreciated!

DO NOT steal, plagiarize, copy, repost, alter, or translate my works in any way

🏷 @h3arteyes4mingi @weird-bookworm @poppy2007 @parkjennykim @evidive @mxlly143 @lizzymizzy-blogg @minhanbyeol @dinossaurz @laylasbunbunny

#jongho x reader #choi jongho x reader #jongho x you #choi jongho x you #jongho x y/n #choi jongho x y/n #ateez imagines #ateez oneshot #ateez scenarios #ateez hogwarts au #kpop imagines #kpop oneshots #kpop scenarios

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mbappebby · 11 months

Text

Little Leclerc || Three

Ollie Bearman x Madelyn Leclerc (OC)

Summary: When she was visiting her brother in the F2 paddock, she sees her a familiar face that she hasn’t seen in a few months..

Requested: Yes, by anonymous: Hey! Loving the Little Leclerc series already! Can you do one where Madelyn goes with Arthur in the F2 paddock as she doesn’t need to be her in garage for awhile. Ollie is obviously there as well and him and Madelyn haven’t seen each other since for awhile. Ollie wants to go over to her but he can’t since she’s with Arthur, the couple see each other secretly that night somewhere. Thank you, keep up the good work!! <33

Words: 1.1K +

Series

Taglist: @christianpulisic10 @callsignwidow @honethatty12 @sebscore @cl16version @shamelesspotatos

(Let me know if you want to be added)

a/n: I’m so sorry for the long wait! I hope you liked it, please sent me in requests and for all my on-going and coming soon series as I need ideas!!

“No, Charles! I’m going with Arth!” Madelyn told him. “But, why?” Charles pouted. “Because she’s likes me more and I’m the favourite brother” Arthur added.

“That’s just not true!” Charles replied. “Yes it is, deal with it!” Arthur told him. The brothers continued their argument when Lorenzo walked in.

“Do I want to know?” He asked his younger sister. “Just the normal argument about who’s my favourite brother” Madelyn told her eldest brother.

“Charles, Mads is going with Arth just deal with it . They will come back into the Ferrari garage later before Mads has to go to the Alfa Romeo garage then” Lorenzo said as Charles nodded.

“How don’t you have any interviews or anything now? Your like completely free for hours!” Charles asked looking at his sister. “Because I’m not in a top team and there isn’t anything wrong with my car” Madelyn told him.

“Lucky, is Zhou free as well then?” Charles asked. “He only had a little problem with the steering, won’t take long to fix and then he will be free” She said.

“Ah okay, see you later yeah? Come to the Ferrari before you are needed” Charles added as Madelyn nodded her head.

Madelyn and Arthur bid goodbye to their oldest siblings before they started to make their way to the track.

“I’m proud of you, you know?” Madelyn told him. “You’re in F1, Mads!” Arthur said. “Yeah but still, your in F2 now. You will be F1 soon!” She replied.

“3 Leclerc’s in F1, that would be amazing” Arthur added. “So, you take my seat when I get a Ferrari seat?” Madelyn joked as the siblings walked into the F2 paddock.

While the pair was making their way to the garage, Madelyn saw a familiar face walking out of the Prema garage. Ollie smiled slightly at his girlfriend who was walking with her brother.

Madelyn smiled back at him before walking into the garage with Arthur, who introduced her to his crew and his teammate; Ayumu Iwasa.

“What’s got you smiling?” Fredrick, Ollie’s teammate asked him. “Nothing, don’t worry about it” Ollie replied. “Yeah sure, you are staring at Mads” Fredrick added.

“Is it that obvious?” Ollie asked. “Look at it this way, literally the only people who can’t see it is Charles and Arthur” Frederick added.

“So the F2, F1 and Lorenzo knows?” Ollie asked. “Yeah, so good luck with that mate” Frederick told his younger teammate and patted his shoulders before walking away.

Madelyn had a big smile on her face as Arthur got out of the car, which was parked in the 3rd place spot. Her brother ran over to greet his team before walking towards her.

Arthur wrapped her into a hug, which made her get lifted off the ground. “Proud of you,” Madelyn whispered as they let go off the hug. “Thank you, Mads” Arthur added.

Madelyn made eye contact with her boyfriend, who had also had gotten on the podium. She smile slightly and he did as well.

After the podium har finished, but the celebrations were still going on Madelyn saw a text pop up from a special someone.

Madelyn replied to him before leaving the garage hoping no one would notice, she made her way through the back of the garages towards the Prema one.

He was there, waiting for her.

Madelyn ran over and jumped his in arms and hugging him tightly. “I missed you so much, baby” Ollie mumbled into her hair.

“I missed you too,” Madelyn mumbled as she jumped down but not breaking the hug. “I’m proud of you! You got P2!” Madelyn added.

“Thank you Mads, you will be high in the points later I know it” Ollie replied. “Will you be there watching?” She asked. “I’ll be in the Ferrari garage with at least two of your brothers” Ollie said.

“Yea, it will be only two. Enzo’s in my garage for today” Madelyn told him. “Ollie! Where are you?” The voice of his teammate called.

“I’ll be there now mate!” Ollie replied as he pulled away from the hug and kissed Madelyn. “I love you, see you later” Ollie whispered.

“I love you too, see you Oll” Madelyn whispered as she kissed him back, Ollie made his way back and Madelyn made her way into the F1 paddock.

Madelyn made her way into the Ferrari garage just to catch up with Charles, Carlos also joined them as well before Maddie had to make her way to the Alfa Romeo garage.

“Mads! There you are, was wondering where you had gone!” Lorenzo said as he saw his sister walk into the garage. “Sorry, I was talking with Charles and Carlos” Madelyn replied.

“And meeting up with your boyfriend before” Enzo replied which made Madelyn freeze. “How do you know that?” She asked.

“Mads, I’m not stupid and maman knows as well. It’s just the other two haven’t figured it out somehow. Don’t worry, he’s a good kid I’m happy for you” Lorenzo told her.

“I mean we are being a bit obvious..” Madelyn mumbled. “Yeah, but the other two idiots still haven’t figured it out” He added which made Maddie laugh.

“They are stupid” Madelyn giggled.

#f1 #f1 imagines #olliebearman #ollie bearman imagines #ollie bearman x reader #charlesleclerc #arthur leclerc #charles leclerc imagine #arthur leclerc x sister #charles leclerc x sister #arthur leclerc imagine

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catholic-character-tournament · 11 months

Text

Round 2 - Side A

Propaganda below ⬇️

Ronan Lynch

Uhh fun fact he saw the devil flash his father once, and that's one of the reasons he goes to church on Sundays <3

context for this scene from book 2: ronan is in church with his older brother declan, younger brother matthew, and ghost friend noah "Joseph Kavinsky isn’t someone I want you being around,” Declan added. “Don’t snort. I’m serious.” Ronan merely invested a look with as much contempt as he could muster. A lady reached over the top of Noah to pat Matthew’s head fondly before continuing down the aisle. She didn’t seem to care that he was fifteen, which was all right, because he didn’t, either. Both Ronan and Declan observed this interaction with the pleased expressions of parents watching their prodigy at work. Declan repeated, “Like, actually dangerous.” Sometimes, Declan seemed to think that being a year older gave him special knowledge of the seedier side of Henrietta. What he meant was, did Ronan know that Kavinsky was a cokehead. In his ear, Noah whispered, “Is crack the same thing as speed?” Ronan didn’t answer. He didn’t think it was a very church-appropriate conversation. “I know you think you’re a punk,” Declan said. “But you aren’t nearly as bad ass as you think you are.” “Oh, go to hell,” Ronan snapped, just as the altar boys broached the rear doors. “Guys,” Matthew pleaded. “Be holy.”

Gay Catholic streetracing farmer. Consumed by catholic guilt NOT because of the gay thing but because he can Create things in a way he thinks should be only God's business. Will literally roll up to mass on sunday morning still drunk and bloody.

THIS GOTH KID IS LITERALLY GOD. This is a god trapped in the body of a Catholic teen and if he ever stopped feeling Catholic guilt he’d end the world!!. How is your confession every week that you creating a whole new being? Babygirl the God is coming from inside the house

eldritch entity from beyond the mortal plane wants to be a Real Human Boy, becomes a real (ish!) human (ish!) boy, goes to mass every sunday

Gay boy got his crush an apartment above his church so he could have his two favorite things in one place

gay. I'm not caught up the the series but I went through the tag when the latest book came out and I remember seeing a quote that said he worried if his boyfriend would make it to heaven when he dies because of his agnostic tendencies.

Kid is like a dream warlock who creates psychic horrors and never goes to confession because why would he? and he’s gay

There are no words

basically ronan's powers are inherited from his dead father niall and it means he can bring anything from a dream into real life. so he's got this whole crisis about whether he is a living piece of blasphemy because men are not meant to have the powers of gods or whether he literally is god. which is not acceptable to him for a number of reasons but mostly because he hates himself. his love interest's name is adam and adam lives in a small apartment above a church which the book says focuses the objects of his worship neatly into one building. I love them both dearly. also, this entire page makes me feel like I'm going insane. Ronan Lynch believed in heaven and hell. Once, he’d seen the devil. It had been a low, late morning at the Barns when the sun had burned off the mist and then burned off the chill and then burned the edges off the ground until everything shimmered with heat. It never got hot in those protected fields, but that morning, the air sweated with it. Ronan had never seen cattle pant before. All of the cows heaved and stuck their tongues out as they frothed with the heat. His mother sent Ronan to put them in the shade of the cattle barn. Ronan had gone to the searing metal gate, and as he did, he’d glimpsed his father, already in the barn. Four yards away from him had stood a red man. He was not truly red, but the burned orange of a fire ant. And he was not truly a man, because of the horns and the hooves. Ronan remembered the alienness of the creature, how real it had been. Every costume in the world had gotten it wrong; every drawing in every comic book. They’d all forgotten that the devil was an animal. Looking at the red man, Ronan had been struck by the intricacy of the body, how many miraculous pieces moved smoothly in harmony, no different than his own. Niall Lynch had had a gun in hand — the Lynches had an enormous number of guns of all sizes — and just as Ronan had opened the gate, his father had shot the thing about thirteen times in the head. With a shake of its horns, the unharmed devil had presented its genitalia to Niall Lynch before bounding off. It was an image that had yet to leave Ronan. And so Ronan became a reverse evangelist. The truth burst and grew inside him, and it was laid upon him to share it with no one. No one was meant to see hell before they get there. No one should have to live with the devil. So many homilies on faith were ruined once you no longer required it for belief.

Friar Tuck

If you use the picture of furry friar tuck from the Disney Robin Hood, bless you 🙏

#Ronan Lynch #the raven cycle #raven cycle #cct polls #tumblr tournament #tumblr bracket #tumblr polls #friar tuck #robin hood

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vikilinda · 1 year

Note

Like any with Georgie Farmer would be amazing, you could literally do anything I don’t really mind… living off scraps rn 🤧

Ofc if u have loads of requests or don’t want to thats fine dw!

DAYS OFF

pairing(s): Georgie farmer x fem!reader

Summary: You've had feelings for Georgie for a long time, but it wasn't until the kiss scene got closer that everything in your head started to mess things up more.

author's note:Hello, first of all I wanted to say thank you very much for this Request, I enjoyed writing another Georgie fic. I wanted to thank you for the enormous affection that the previous story has received, I really did not think I would like it so much, so thank you really. I hope you like this one too, if you have any requests about Georgie or any other actor or characters, you can leave them in the requests that I will gladly do. Merry semi-Christmas.

You were confused.

Georgie and you were good friends, their characters were a couple in the series so it made sense that the one they lived with the most was the British. Georgie and you were good friends, their characters were a couple in the series so it made sense that the one they lived with the most was the British. Thanks to the nature of the relationship between his characters, Tim, the director, did not take long to send them on several dates, neither of them was bothered by it, throughout the recordings both acted as a real couple so that in scenes they did not It seemed so forced, but they both knew it was just acting.

Or so you thought, you didn't know if it was because of the amount of time in which you hadn't dated or because of the festivities that had a certain effect on you, but something had changed. The complicit looks, the smiles, the little kisses, everything was starting to feel different.

You had to find out if something was really going on before they filmed their first romantic scene. But how?

"Yellow!"

They had had the night off and as in any space without work that you left them they had decided to play Uno. You had spent part of the night interned deciphering Farmer's signals but it seemed that all you would get was a headache.

"You are a cheater!"

Jenna's scream brings you back to reality, the game was over and Percy somehow, possibly dirty, had managed to win. Your gaze goes to Georgie, who argues with Jenna about all the cheating the Canadian was doing, your eyes scanning. Georgie wasn't ugly, of course that was something you knew, her hair, which had grown almost to match Percy's, was disheveled but not in a careless way but in a casual way, with a few strands falling casually in front of her. face.

But it wasn't until he turned his head and winked at you that you knew you were lost.

"I go for water"

While you could hear the others continue to fight with Percy, your mind kept swimming between your feelings. Maybe you needed a day off, or maybe two. Definitely a week, yes.

“Y/n! You are missing the show of the year, they are going to send Percy to the gallows.”

You are sitting at the kitchen table where you can see part of the great work that your friends have put together outside, of course your eyes are only on the British, the way his laughter is the only thing you hear, how your heart beats more quickly when his gaze catches yours and he smiles at you. You definitely need that day off.

"Or maybe you're seeing just what you need to see."

Joy smiles as she shakes her head. They both steal glances from two rooms, while lowering their heads with flushed cheeks, if only they realized what was quite obvious to the rest of the cast.

. . .

You had taken the day off.

Today you hadn't had to record scenes, so even though you loved all your companions, you had decided that you needed a day alone, your head had been spinning too much in recent days and it certainly wasn't going to stop if you didn't give yourself your space to clarify certain feelings.

Romania was a rather peculiar place, of course you had already realized that the first day you set foot in the country, but having taken today to enjoy yourself had been the best decision you had made.

"I'm sorry"

You had bumped into someone on your way out of the cafeteria, it was Georgie. He had made the same decision on his day off, Percy had offered to go with him but Georgie only planned to walk around the building for just a few minutes, but after having to lie to his friend about a non-existent stomach ache to Not to be upset for wanting to be alone, he understood that the five-minute walk would have to be extended.

“Y/n, I thought you would be with the others.”

Georgie gives herself a mental slap. He didn't want it to sound that way but the truth is that you were the reason why he needed some time alone, in a week they will have their first kiss scene and Georgie wasn't taking it well at all. He had been feeling a certain mix of emotions towards her friendship with you, thanks to her characters having quite a complicated start where they just fight their feelings hadn't interfered with his character, but now that that was going to change and their characters were going out Georgie didn't know How was I going to handle it?

“I…erm, I needed a day off”

Now it was you who wanted to hit a wall, of course you didn't want it to sound like you bothered hanging out with them, it was obvious you didn't, but seeing Georgie had completely thrown you off base, your brain didn't she could react beyond how cute he looked in his sweater and messy hair.

"I-I didn't mean it to sound like that, of course I like spending time with you it's just that…"

“Don't worry, I literally had to invent a Percy that my stomach hurt because he wanted to accompany me. I mean, I love the boy but the boy can't take hints."

Percy that my stomach hurt because he wanted to accompany me. I mean, I love the boy but the boy can't take hints.

"I was going back to the building, do you want to come?"

Georgie nods as he joins you. Along the way you had talked about everything that had happened on the set these three months, they had shared certain theories and they even bet who Merlina would stay with. You'd felt good, like all that weird tension between you disappeared, until it brushed up against you and you remembered why you were in that position in the first place.

“So next week is the big time”

Both of them had stopped on a bridge not far from where they lived and had been quietly appreciating the sunset. Of course, the silence would not last forever.

"At last huh, one more fight and I would swear Galatea would pluck Ajax's snakes one by one."

They both laugh.

"If it wasn't for Enid it might have taken them all season to confess what they felt."

"Let's be thankful that Enid locks them up"

They both remain in an awkward silence. Your characters had gone through almost the same situation as you and even so it was not obvious to you, or you want to pretend that it was not, the great tension between the two of you.

"Georgie"

"Y/n"

"You first"

Your words get stuck in your throat, you were ready to take off the bandage once and for all and confess to Georgie what you felt but your throat hadn't planned the same, when you were ready to pronounce the words it closed, Georgie must have noticed in that because he decided to speak.

“There's an ice cream parlor near here that they say is very good, I haven't been but Percy went with Jenna and they told me it's very good. Do you want to go?"

With a smile you nod, while both walk towards the place chatting at ease about Percy and his many cheats in the games, you feel how Georgie brushes her hand with yours so you take the initiative and then intertwine their fingers. They both smile and they didn't need more to understand what's going on between you.

While you continue to go to your appointment, your group of friends is spying on you from behind.

“I told you they ran away to be together. Pay"

Jenna holds out her hand as Percy holds out a monopoly ticket, causing the next big row that ends with both of them in the fountain.

#georgie farmer #Georgie farmer x reader #ajax petropolus x reader #fanfic #wensday

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rhoorl · 4 months

Text

Just a sappy year-end post you can continue scrolling lol…

I’ve written and rewritten this so many times over the past week. The words were failing me on how to sum up this year, so instead here’s a long-winded stream of consciousness:

There are so many things that now have a new meaning for me thanks to the last nine months.

Sequins. Donuts. Ties. Mirrors. Belt buckles. Snakes. Holsters. Back Alleys. Bakeries. Pickles. Landscaping. Gray sweatpants. Honestly, the list goes on.

At the start of 2023, I was soooo excited to watch The Last of Us. I was a fan of Pedro and Mr. Rhoorl was a huge fan of the game so it was like a win-win and something for us to watch together. Little did I know how much that show and Pedro’s subsequent SNL appearance would change the rest of my year.

I still laugh when I think about how long I spent lurking on the Pedro subreddit before I said anything. But little by little, my upvotes turned into me leaving comments and those comments led to me finding some pretty awesome people. Especially those who encouraged me when I threw out a random comment about how I was thinking of writing a fic of my own after consuming so many stories and feeling inspired (I read my first fanfic in March of this year!).

I remember going to the movies one day in the summer. I arrived early (taking solace in having some peace and quiet) and as I sat waiting for the trailers to start, I typed up the skeleton of the Working Title plot on my phone. Fast forward to impulsively creating a Tumblr account and feeling like the eldest millennial ever hoping I wouldn’t get laughed out of the room as I tried navigating this site and interacting with people and their posts.

Then a few weeks later, I was reading one of my favorite series (The Layover) and got this idea about an AU where the Triple Frontier boys start a landscaping business. I was so scared to message Megan about it, hoping she wouldn’t think I was completely nuts (well, maybe she does). I’m so happy I took that deep breath and hit send on that message. It was an uncharacteristic move for me, normally I’d just think ha that’s a funny idea and keep it to myself. But so much of the summer was pushing myself out of my comfort zone so I thought, why not?

Speaking of taking a deep breath and hitting send…who knew that the idea of hosting an online watch party would bring so many amazing people into my life? It all feels like a fever dream sometimes with how it all came together and I’m not sure how everything fell into place but grateful doesn’t even begin to express how it makes me feel.

I’ll spare you the story since this is getting long, but this year had many highs and many lows. And what really helped me a lot during these lows was a lot of you reading this. Thank you for the encouragement, the laughs, and the shoulders to cry on during those low days, along with the silly graphics and gifs that made me smile (or gave me thots). I’m a pretty reserved and closed-off person away from here, but this year I decided to get out of my comfort zone a bit and just … try.

I know I'll probably never meet Pedro (except in my dreams), but damn if I did ever meet him I would love to say thank you. Thank you for putting so much heart and soul into your performances. Thank you for inspiring creativity in me that I didn't think was there anymore and for inspiring others to bear their souls out onto the internet by way of amazing, heartfelt, and thot-tastic stories. Thank you for giving me a reason to meet people from literally all over the world. This place feels like a playground sometimes with friendships striking up in the simplest ways, like “Hey you like Pedro/this character/this very specific photoshoot/this gif? Cool, me too let’s be friends.” I am so thankful to have made some true connections and friends here that I otherwise would not have met.

(And finally, because I'm me, I’d thank Pedro for being so broad and having amazing hair…ok I wouldn’t actually say that because I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t be able to form a sentence but dammit I would be thinking it that’s for sure!)

So to sum up, this year has been one of growth, of taking deep breaths, of silencing the little voice in my head, and hitting send, or post, or reblog. It doesn’t always work, but when it does, it’s magic.

If you made it this far, thank you. I’ve gone through a few tissues writing this so I’m going to wrap things up. I don’t really have a profound way to end this rambling other than to say I’m here if you ever want to pop by and say hello or yell about the latest Pedro photo. I know there’s a lot of discourse on here from time to time about various pockets/groups but I feel pretty lucky to have landed in a corner of this site that is supportive and full of love. There’s plenty of room around the table for us all and I wholeheartedly believe in community over competition. I can’t wait to see what 2024 brings.

xoxo Jess

P.S. At what point do we test the Emergency Alert System ahead of Gladiator 2? I’m going to need a wellness check.

Pedro tax for your troubles:

#tw: long post #tw: personal #year in review

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fizzyxcustard · 11 months

Text

Never.

Masterlist of fan fiction

Fandom: Doctor Who

Pairings: Eleventh Doctor x OC

Warnings: Angst, insecurity, sadness, smut, first person POV

Summary: Sarah has been travelling with the Doctor and has fallen madly in love with the Time Lord. Will their feelings finally get the better of them?

Comments/Notes: I wrote this fic around 2014/15 and it is currently up on my AO3 page for reading, but I thought I would try it here and see how it goes. This is part 1 of 5, in a series called 'Cup of Tea and Jammie Dodgers'.

Currently I am keeping the tag list for this series completely separate from my main Follow Forever tag list, so if you'd like to be added to this tag list for Doctor Who, please let me know.

I hope you like the fic. As always, like, reblog and comment if you enjoy. If you wish to be added to any of my tag lists, let me know.

It didn’t matter how many times I tried to convince myself that he could love someone like me, I knew he never would. I was a mere human, nothing special, nothing fantastic. A man like him deserved an exotic woman from a distant planet who could match him mentally with her expertise in time travel and higher than average IQ. I couldn’t deliver on any of that. I was just a mediocre, run of the mill woman from central England.

The Doctor had come into my life quite by accident. He’d been the one to pick me up from a dark place and took me to the stars – literally. Over the time we’d travelled together in the TARDIS, he’d spoke of his previous companions and all of them seemed to have something to offer. But I just couldn’t see at all what had called him to take me to other worlds. Maybe I should have asked him as it was something I’d never brought myself to ask.

The last two or three days I’d tried my best to keep myself to myself while I let this confusion in my head unfold. Each day I’d retire quite early to the library or pool and so far he hadn’t really noticed. He was his usual self: bouncy, child-like, but always had that all too familiar sadness sitting behind his eyes. I’d only seen him cry once, but he’d smiled through the tears, pretending that he was being silly. But, to me, he’d never be silly. He was the most amazing man I’d ever known, and I’m sure everyone else that had met him thought exactly the same. So...why would I be any different?

The TARDIS, so far, had been big enough for me to hide. But not anymore. I was sat beside the pool, listening to my own thoughts, when I heard a gentle calling of my name. And there he was, stood in the doorway. When I first met him he hadn’t been the kind of man I’d have fallen for; he was boyish in his appearance with floppy hair, continuous hand gestures and a mad bowtie. Behind that and he was so much more. He was freedom, hope and a reason to live life expectantly. Since stepping on board the TARDIS, I woke up awaiting the wonder of a new world or the echoes of someone’s forgotten past.

He placed a freshly brewed cup of tea and a packet of Jammie Dodgers on the table beside me. His shoes squeaked on the tiles as he spun on his heel and sat on the edge of the recliner next to me.

“You don’t look dressed for swimming,” he said softly, looking at my attire of jeans and blouse.

“You never know what I might have hiding under here,” I laughed, looking down at my blouse, but as soon as I’d let the words fall off my lips, I realised my stupidity. I’d never been one to talk provocatively, no matter how hard I tried.

The Doctor let his expression gradually turn to a sad smile as he seemingly forgot my comment. Maybe he hadn’t seen the innuendo of it.

“Why have you been avoiding me?” he asked. “I had noticed even though you always tell me I don’t seem to notice anything.”

I sighed and shifted awkwardly in my seat. I wanted to tell him so badly how I felt. Every time I caught sight of him and I felt the butterflies set up residence in my stomach. I’d always been so guarded when it came to men and allowing myself to fall for them. There were still old scars inside me which hadn’t quite healed over completely. One of these scars was due to an old fiancée who had fallen out of love with me. He’d grown distant from me, finding more happiness in the company of others until he broke the relationship off. Maybe he hadn’t been the one so to speak, but he made me feel like I fit in with everyone else. With him and I could tell everyone that someone loved me. I could be like all my old co-workers and ex-school friends who I accidentally bumped into on the street. With the Doctor...oh, it was unlike anything I’d ever felt before. Unknowingly, he’d taken me from that need to be ordinary and like everyone else, transforming me into something else. I was different now. I travelled through time and space with a mad man in a blue box. What was normal about that?

How could I just let everything spill out? I suddenly felt hot and flustered. I needed to run.

I got up from my seat quickly, ignoring his protests for me to come back. The tears began to fall down my cheeks and a lump rose in my throat.

Suddenly I felt his hand around my arm and I was turned quickly, although not forcefully.

I looked into his eyes, those deep set eyes that had become so beautiful to me. Gradually I backed up against the wall, but he stepped forward, keeping the distance between us minimal.

My heart thundered in my chest and I looked down, unable to keep eye contact. “You’re playing with me,” I said sternly. “Stop it!”

“Somehow I believe you’re the better one at teasing,” he replied. His eyes had grown darker with something I couldn’t, in that moment, admit to seeing there. I just couldn’t admit it to myself that he might possibly feel something for me.

Then he raised his hand and cupped my cheek, his thumb gently rubbing away the one tear that had clung there. “My dearest Sarah,” he whispered. “You just don’t see it. None of it. You think beauty lies in the constellations, nebulas and galaxies. But I see all of that when I look in your eyes.”

“You chose me to travel with you, but why? Everyone else that you’ve had as a companion has had more about them...”

“Shhhh,” he said, growing agitated. “There’s a reason for each one of you passing through those doors. The TARDIS knows who I need, and she chose you for me, Sarah.”

How could he speak to me like this when he was married to River Song? Did Time Lords have a twisted idea of marriage and then sneak off with concubines? He was confusing me, and I think he sensed that.

“Doctor, you’re married to River. Why do you think I’ve kept away from you?” I asked, moving aside and out of the door. “How can I stand in front of the man I love day after day and know nothing can ever come of it? I age and die, you regenerate. It’s as though life enjoys playing sick games with you.”

I dashed down the corridor, trying to find my way back towards my room, but each and every time I attempted to get away, I kept coming back to the entrance to the pool. The Doctor stood there with his arms crossed.

“You know how the TARDIS works, Sarah. Don’t keep running away. You need to face up to problems in your life rather than keep running,” he told me.

“Oh, you’re a fine one to say that to me seeing as you took me from home!” I shouted. “You run from your past every day, Doctor. And you stand there preaching to me about it.”

I could see the frustration growing on his face and with no other words spoken he approached me quickly, and kissed me.

I tried to pull away but he had his hands on my cheeks, keeping me against him. As his lips moved, I knew I couldn’t keep the running routine up. He weakened me and I stood there completely defenceless, responding to his kiss. My arms wound around his waist and I groaned beneath our locked lips.

Gradually we parted, our breaths heightened.

He smiled at me and then pressed his forehead against mine. “Never think you’re unimportant. Never!”

The Doctor excused himself from my company a short time later, promising to come and see me once he’d taken care of some calculations and such in the main console room.

I took a quick swim and then had a shower, washing all of the chlorine out of my hair. But all the way through I couldn’t take my mind off the Doctor. Smiles kept coming out of nowhere and I must have looked like a lunatic to anyone watching. However, I knew I needed to learn of his intentions. Where would any kind of relationship go from here? Or would it be nigh on impossible. For today I needed to forget it all and just enjoy the moment. Living in the moment for the sheer fun of it was something I’d never been able to do. My mind had always been locked on the future, stressing about the what ifs and maybes of life.

After the shower, I returned to my room only to find that the single bed which was against the wall had now turned into a double, centred amongst the simple furnishings.

What on earth was the TARDIS doing? I’d been told countless times how she needed to be sure of a person and only allowed those on board who were important and integral to the Doctor’s travels. What was the reason behind my presence?

I stepped further into the room and slipped a hand down onto the crisp, white bed sheets. A tingle shot up my back making me shiver. The Doctor... and me...in this bed.

The door shut behind me and as I turned I saw him. His tweed jacket was missing and his shirt sleeves were rolled up.

“Been busy?” I asked.

“Not as busy as I’d like to be,” he replied. “I think you’ll make sure I have my work cut out for me.”

One thing I knew was for certain: if I made love to him here, tonight, things would never be the same for me. I couldn’t let this be a one night stand. My heart was his, completely. But was his heart mine?

“Doctor,” I whispered. “I can’t.”

He smiled at me. “I know you enough by now to know why. Truth is, I know I’m married to River, but my heart...or hearts,” he began. He stopped and chuckled. “My hearts aren’t there. I care for River but not in the same way I care for you. In my last regeneration, I felt this way for someone else.”

“Rose?” I asked. I knew it was her. Sometimes the way he spoke about her made everything so clear. She’d been his first love. He’d speak about other companions from his last regeneration like Martha and Donna, but the regret and sadness wasn’t present in his voice like when he mentioned Rose. His previous companions from this regeneration, Amy and her husband, Rory, had been his best friends, sharing in so many of his trials and triumphs. Where I fit in, I didn’t quite know.

“But...I’m different, Sarah. In this form I have my memories, but the feelings disappear...some of them.”

“You said that you left a clone of yourself with Rose so she’d never be without you. How am I supposed to walk away from all of this without you? And I mean you as you are now.”

“Isn’t it better to taste love once even if it’s not meant to last, than never taste it at all?” he asked me.

All reason and control left me and I leaned up to kiss him.

My hands wound up in his hair as his drifted down me, causing goose bumps to rise on my skin. I couldn’t help but let out a groan, momentarily feeling embarrassment, but that soon dissipated as I found myself being disrobed.

His lips inspected me carefully, inch by inch as we made sure no more clothing could get in the way. And shortly after, we lay amongst the fresh covers. He was leaning over me, kissing my neck passionately. I’d never seen him so primal and unrestricted.

I couldn’t help but arch my back as his lips travelled down my body, until he came to my inner thigh and it was then that I called out into the air.

“I don’t want to wait anymore,” I said, trying to get the words out coherently between the feelings which were bombarding me.

He never spoke but instead began kissing back upward, seemingly not missing an inch. And as his face came in front of mine, I took his lips back against mine but felt him enter me at the same time in one swift movement. On instinct and in shock I groaned under the kiss, and then he reciprocated.

We began to thrust against one another, matching one another’s movements and as we did, he took my hands in his. I could feel the ascension to my orgasm beginning and it became so quick the harder we pulsed into one another, until finally, I felt that last turbulent wave hit me. Whilst the orgasm pulsed through me, the Doctor groaned against my neck, signalling his release.

Breathlessly, he withdrew and lay beside me.

We let our breaths come back to normal before the Doctor reached over and began tickling me. Instantly I laughed, pulling away, but he came almost on top of me, attacking me with his hands. My insides hurt as I laughed over and over, until I found a way to get at him.

I lunged forwards, still giggling and began tickling him back in retaliation. His laughter filled the room until we settled down to sleep.

I woke to find that the space next to me had become vacant and the Doctor’s clothes had disappeared. Sighing, I got up, re-dressed and decided to take a walk down to the console room. Maybe he was in there, hovering over leavers and gauges...as per usual.

This time the TARDIS allowed me to walk smoothly into the console room, where I found him. I stayed by the door, watching him grinning like a happy child and hopping around the system, chattering away. Now that I’d experienced what it was like to not only travel with the Doctor, but allow him in, I knew I’d never be the same again.

***

Doctor Who tag list: @asgardianhobbit98 @bookworm-with-coffee

#Doctor Who #Eleventh Doctor #Fanfiction #Doctor Who Fanfiction #Eleventh Doctor x OC #11th Doctor x OC #Eleventh Doctor x Original Female Character #11th Doctor x Original Female Character #Matt Smith #Eleventh Doctor Fanfiction

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shurisneakers · 2 years

Text

bridges break (ii)

summary: steve shuts himself away. you pull him along on a trip of a lifetime in an attempt to reconnect. great plan! except there's one big secret he's keeping from you that could change the course of your entire relationship, and there's no greasy stack of diner pancakes in the country big enough to hide behind.

(road trip!au, best friends to lovers)

Warnings: angst, mentions of death, mental health issues and disorientation, ptsd, swearing, my garbage attempt at humour and art history. lemme know if i missed anything and I'll tag it.

A/N: hi <3 thank u all for your bday wishes and yes i feel literally as old as this geriatric mf. love u guys

there's a poem in here that's been credited to a.j. it was written by the wonderful @barnesandco whose poetry you can find over on @pakpoetics so follow her and send some love!!

Previous Part || Series Masterlist

"Passport."

"Yes."

"Tablet."

"Yes."

"Synced calendar on your phone."

"Yes." Steve breaks away from the threshold of his apartment and into the cold air.

Mona face lags on the screen, and Steve waits for her to start moving again. The sun had just barely begun to peek through the clouds, the air chill with the thin layer of condensation, and she was already working on full steam.

He'd assured her, swore to her, that he wouldn't need a physical copy of the checklist delivered to him. Still, her call had come about ten minutes ago to make sure Steve had an updated copy of all the fundraisers and public service announcements he was scheduled to attend when he was back.

But then she asks, "Pager?"

"Pager?" Steve stalls in his steps.

"The Constitution?" she continues. "Declaration of Independence?"

He watches the desolate road in front of his apartment, biting back a wry smile. "Very funny."

"Sorry. Couldn't help myself," she says and then adds something else he doesn't catch.

"What'd you say?" He squints at the bars-- he had full network.

"I said, we've only got clearance for a month and one week," she says, louder. "And that's after a lot of negotiating. So please try to make it back by then."

"Gotcha," he says, studying a cyclist that rode past him leisurely. "How are you gonna keep busy?"

"I've got my ways," Mona replies. "Oh! Last thing before your vacation officially starts--"

A sleek, black SUV pulls up in front of him in true movie fashion. The window rolls down to reveal your face complete with a bright smile and sunglasses, both out of place for this time of the morning. Still, he can't control himself and his own lopsided smile grows at the sight.

"Too late," Steve says, waving to you before making his way around the back of the car. “Think it just did.“

"Just a document, I swear. Captain Ro-"

"It's just Steve, Mona." He sighs, balancing the phone between his shoulder blades as he leaves his two duffel bags in the trunk. “We've taken care of all of it. Even if I disappear tomorrow, it'll be fine."

The hecticness had slowed to a crawling pace, anyway. He put in a few extra hours, pre-recorded several videos for the public for various hypothetical scenarios, and in general seemed like he had done most of what he could from his position.

He made tired, but overall sincere, promises to return immediately if aliens landed up in the city again, or if Mona sent him an SOS. The latter was more of a priority.

"Okay, first of all, please don't do that,” Mona adds quickly. “If you’re planning on disappearing, then-"

"I was kidding." Sort of. "I'll sign the thing."

"Great!” He watches the white light on her face change to blue she switches apps. "Now, I know I said that was the last thing but-"

"Hanging up on you now." He closes the trunk firmly with a thud.

She lets out an exaggerated exhale before looking at him.

"I was just gonna say send me a postcard. I like the old, weird ones."

"I will keep that in mind," Steve promises. "Bye, Mona."

"Bye, Captain Rogers."

"Steve."

"Captain Steve," she replies swiftly before the screen goes dark, leaving him to stare at himself.

He shakes his head lightly, tucking his phone into his pocket and makes his way to the passenger's side.

"Hi," you say as he peers in through the window. "You ready to get this thing started?"

______

A map spread wide, arm to arm, takes up most of the space in the front.

"Why am I looking at this again?" he asks in delayed clarification, nevertheless not tearing his eyes away from it.

"For directions."

"Yes, but why?" The paper rustles as he folds it up in half neatly along the creases. "Last I checked, we still got GPS."

You have a firm grip on the steering wheel while your posture is relaxed back, one elbow leaning out the window.

There is an anticipatory curl in the corner of your mouth, and he’s lead to believe he is entirely too predictable in the kind of questions he asks.

“If we’re doing this, we’re doing it right,” you reason, as he follows a trail down the printed road with his index finger. It’s a long way to go. "Like all the movies."

"Were these movies made after 2005?"

"You know, now that you mention it, they were in black and white," you say thoughtfully before turning to face him. “Are you absolutely sure you’re not hungry?”

“Positive. Had a good breakfast.” He can’t really see you through the obstruction of the map, but mostly he’s glad you can’t see him because he was still getting used to outright lying to you. “I got us some bars, just in case.”

“What bars?"

"Nuts, fruits. The usual. Oats."

"Stevie," you say in bewilderment, and he pulls down the paper to look at you, "I love you, but we’re not eating health bars on a road trip. Sam would have my head if I let you.”

“You might wanna avoid telling him about the protein shakes, then.”

“You did not.” Shock turns to horror at the idea of several containers worth of whey in his secondary duffel bag.

“Didn’t I?”

“No.” It takes no longer than a second to settle on. “You wouldn’t.”

The traffic you’ve spent half an hour in already graciously allows you to move a few inches forward. He wonders how long it would be till the skyscrapers and billboards would be swapped for a stretch of nothingness, a bright blue horizon and cloudless sky.

"Besides, even if you did," you continue, even though he thought the topic had already run its course, "once we start picking up all the unnecessary touristy shit at every stop along the way, I will not hesitate to throw your protein powder out first to save on space."

Steve smile reappears. "How much are you planning on buying?"

"Buddy, I got a whole other bag just for that," you draw out in a sing-song voice. "I'm gonna single-handedly fix this economy."

There’s a sharp reminder that flashes through his mind, leaving in its wake a sudden unsettling feeling that combs its way through him.

He should check if the list had made it with him on the trip. The stupid, godforsaken list.

"I wanted to get some stuff too," he says in an effort to placate it.

"Yeah? What stuff?"

"I’ll show you later," Steve waves off, shifting in his seat to get comfortable. "It's just some stuff from ‘round the country."

"Like memorabilia?"

"Kind of." He powers through the image of the torn notebook paper, a incomplete list in unruly handwriting, pressed between the folds of his pocket out of his brain.

"Sounds cool," you say. "We'll get 'em all."

“Why are you here, Captain?” she asks finally.

“You know why, doctor.” Steve's cheek leans on his fingers, leaving behind indents.

“It’s a part of your deal, I know,” she says, “but why are you here?”

Steve snaps the map up again, keeping him out of your sight before his eyes shut tightly.

“Where’s our first stop?” he musters as normally as he can.

“Given the state of this traffic, it'd be for lunch,” you reply, staring straight out at the line of cars in front of you. “After that it’s Pittsburgh. There’s this art museum I wanted to check out.”

Steve realizes he's been clenching his eyes too hard once the spots start dancing in front of him, forcing him to relax them.

“Art museum?”

“You like art, don’t you?”

“I do.” A heavyweight paper sketchbook and a set of good pencils were staples of his luggage. “But I didn't know you were into it now.”

“I mean, I've definitely developed an eye for the finer things, Steven. Art included.”

"Yeah? You got a favourite artist yet?"

"I don’t know if you’ve heard of this guy. He's kinda niche," you reply. "Bob Ross."

“Oh?”

"Big fan of the way he hits things with a brush. Very good use of space."

It's enough to make him laugh, dismiss the disembodied thoughts floating around in his head for a moment. He lowers the map and folds it up before tucking it back into the glove compartment.

Steve shifts in his seat again to pull out his phone, deciding to make himself useful by at least finding a good place to get lunch.

"According to the ratings, the nearest res-" he cuts himself off when he turns to look at you and finds a big grin on your face as you look out at the road ahead.

"What?" he asks instead, slightly confused.

“Nothing.” The smile on your face doesn’t let up. “Just been a while since I've heard that laugh."

_________

Steve’s been to one gallery since he was out of the ice.

For a man whose hand itches while his mind stalls, it’s criminal that the only time he had the opportunity to was on an undercover op.

It's strange how similar it all felt now, blue baseball cap covering his hair, oversized jacket with his hands shoved deep in the pockets and shoulders hunched to make himself smaller.

But this time, his low profile isn’t to trail a HYDRA operative. It was to avoid a seemingly unlikely confrontation in a silent hall. The crowd is sparse and scattered where available, but he supposes that was normal considering that it was a weekday evening.

You had gone in search of a map again, leaving him to his own devices for a few moments.

The place was gorgeous. A mix of both classical and modernism; high ceilings held up with marble pillars, art painstakingly carved into stone, grand staircases, and murals lining the walls, whereas the galleries were sleek, with plain white walls with strategic lighting, and labyrinth dividers.

Steve breathes in deeply, finding notes of aromatics they’ve used to enhance every human sense. If his being could fracture into shards of glass, he knew that the minute bits would be art, the ones that slip by unnoticed until you realize what filled in the gaps between the more significant pieces.

"Turns out they've got tours," you say, coming to stand beside him. "But they focus on specific artists or like, themed ones like the ‘Effect of Labor on Art’. Told 'em I'd ask you and let them know."

"Maybe we could just walk around for a while?" he proposes instead. A tour this early already seemed too restrictive, like he was following a schedule when he'd just managed to escape from one.

"That's what I was thinkin' too." You tap his shoulder lightly with a thin, folded brochure. "So I got us a map and a few directions from them to get started."

"Where to first?"

You narrow your eyes playfully at him. “How much do you know about contemporary art?”

“Haven't really had time to study it,” Steve replies. "I'd say roughly the same as you."

“So… not much.”

"I thought you had an eye for the finer things in life," he reminds as you begin leading the way.

"Oh yeah, I can definitely tell if it's fine or not." You grin. "Rest is obviously up for interpretation."

"So-- contemporary art first?"

You look down at the map where a little number indicated where you were. "Contemporary art first."

_____

Admittedly, this style of art isn’t really up Steve's alley, but he likes looking at them all the same. The symbolism isn't always decipherable, but he admires the flair and the subjectivity. Every piece of art had a bit of someone’s life in them, and it took a great deal to part with it from the kind embrace of your mind and leave it on a canvas.

His own sketches of Nat’s coffee cup on the window sill of their safehouse in Montana, or the view of Wakanda from the hall outside Bucky’s cryo chamber took a lot longer than some of the other quick doodles he’d leave on paper napkins.

"Art is subjective and all that, but I tell ya this, I got a lot to say about some of them."

Some of the pieces had colours that were striking, bold. Looking at them alone raises his spirits, even to the smallest degree.

Steve smiles slightly. "What does your fine eye make of it?"

“Of this one? It's... interesting,” you say, pausing in front of an acrylic on linen. Splashes of every shade of mustard in shapes, strokes, lines hiding lavender symbols at the back, highlighted by notes of black. "Very strong narrative."

Steve silently waits for an explanation.

“It’s about the artist’s love for her niece. There’s lavender for the nursery she helped paint, yellow for her love and the black’s representative of her troubled relationship with her sister,” you explain, eyes never leaving the painting. “She wishes she could see her niece more, be a part of her life but her sister isn’t having any of it. It’s why there’s such little lavender in the grand scheme of things, always hidden by a lot of black.”

Steve lingers at the picture, following every word you say with the intent of connecting it with what he can see. He knows you're talking about of your ass, but it was mildly impressive.

His eyes flicker towards you.

"Like I said," you finish, "very strong narrative."

“You just came up with that on the spot?" Steve asks instead.

“Who, me? Lying?” You scoff. “Never.”

His jaw clicks as it slides to the side before returning to its position, eyes trained on the floor with a shake of his head. He tries his best to hide his smile before looking back up at you.

The next few ones are observed in silence before you move on. You don’t provide your analysis, even though he waits for it, shifting focus between you and the art.

By the third one he realizes that you probably weren’t going to unless he asks. But he missed your voice. He could do with a little more of it.

“You got anything to say about this?“ he asks, face stoic as he points to one that from afar looks like oil pastels on paper. It’s scribbles upon scribbles of different colours, drawn without any restraint. "Strong narrative?"

He watches the corner of your mouth quirk up.

“Messy, non-linear narrative," you correct, head leaning to the side. "The creator was clearly thrilled about something. A lot of colours, messy. Man was having the time of his life.”

Steve feels a laugh bubble up to his chest. “Right.”

“These little circles here-” You point so confidently to the corner of the canvas, it almost sounds convincing “-they represent the magic mushrooms he was on while painting this.”

That was definitely… an opinion.

"Very insightful," he agrees, following you as you throw him a wink over your shoulder. “What about that?”

“This one’s easy.” You stop in front of a blank canvas. There’s a thin square of red outlining the boundary, but it’s bare except for it.

“Let’s hear it.”

“Wait, read the description first,” you encourage, pointing at the label at the side. “I wanna see if I’m right.”

“Unnamed, by Flo Dyer, is a prototypical minimalist abstraction.” A whole lot of words for a canvas full of nothing. “The visual and tangible characteristics of the piece pushes the interpreter into a journey of self-discovery.”

“Obviously,” you say. “Duh.”

---

The gallery is divided, each hosting works from different eras, Impressionist and Post-Impressionist. This, he has a little more experience. He'd read a few books, talked to kids who had enough money and time to get into art school, to have his mouth slightly agape the minute he steps in.

The detail and care in every restored painting hanging on the wall takes whatever words he could have from his throat, rolls them up and blows them into the wind. He wants to extend a finger forward, brush up against it and feel history under his skin. But he can’t, so he settles on watching from afar.

He wordlessly spends time in front of each painting, breathing in the passion and love of people who lived centuries before him.

The longest time he spends is at the portrait of a sleeping woman, head draped delicately over her forearm. You don't say anything, only sitting patiently beside him as he loses track of the evening.

It reminds him of the light through the window falling on the mattress pushed up against the wall. Slow afternoons and her sleeping figure under it, back turned to Steve. He wonders how the heat didn't seem to phase her.

“It’s beautiful,” you say, eyes not leaving the art.

Steve's attention snaps back to you, blinking away slow afternoons and the blanket left at the foot of the bed.

“Albert J Moore.” He can hear his own voice muted as it replies. “Acacias.”

Steve wants to ask if you can feel the same sense of peace that washes over him the longer he watches it.

He hopes you do. It’s a feeling he wants to float in for as long as he could.

___

Roaming around the museum on his own wouldn't have been nearly as fun. Steve liked seeing which ones you had a visceral reaction to, whether it be awe or criticism. Whatever facts he knew, he’d rattle off and you’d listen attentively as if his word was gospel. Each gallery with its own collection had something for him to linger at a little longer, and sometimes he explained why but others he couldn't.

The next gallery he enters, he enters through a small path until he comes to a stop in front of one piece in specific. Even without glancing at the name, he can tell the artist; it was so distinct.

Steve knew the works of Edward Hopper. Had seen them cited far more often these last few years than any other artist, but this is the first time he’s seen one in its original form.

Sunday, it’s called.

Sunday by Edward Hopper, 1926.

Oil on canvas, it has the almost sepia-like laziness that comes with the end of the week. Warm colours dip in and out of shadows, it paints the curbside of a road lining rows of closed shops.

In 1926, Steve was 8. A spunky, spitfire eight that by May, had already been in and out of the nurse’s office four times.

Eight-year-old Steve still remembered his ma asleep on the mattress that was usually reserved for his frail bones most of the week, until the weekend rolled around and she got two hours to herself on it for a nap. He left the apartment to find something else to do, somewhere else to let off some energy that came with pent up defiance at the world residing in his blood.

On Steve’s curbside, the shops weren’t closed for the weekend. They were ‘Sorry! Closed for Business’ on weekends, weekdays, months, years. Sometimes a new owner flipped over the cardboard sign to welcome people in, and flipped it right back after a month.

Edward Hopper’s curbside has a man in the forefront. There’s a cigarette in his mouth, and his arms are closed in a way that shuts him off from the world. In the deserted, empty street this man--

The man looks at him and Steve feels seen, as though his stare has pierced through the seven walls of defense that lines his chest.

The man looks at him and he knows. The man knows.

Steve feels it in his heart first, before it makes its way up to his throat like a rush of bile. His cheeks pain, ache. It’s a feeling he thought he got over a long time ago as everything unrelentingly went on.

He feels out of time.

“You know this one?” you ask when he doesn't make any movement,

"No." His answer is short, mumbled.

“What are you lookin’ at?”

His soul, it feels like. Bared out there for the world to see how much of a damn liar he is. The man and his cigar don’t look at you. They pierce through him and him alone.

Your gaze follows his. “He seems lonely.”

“Yeah,” Steve’s voice comes out hoarse, “he does.”

“’Least he’s got a smoke.” You’re optimistic, too radiant for a portrait like this. He’s glad that it doesn’t affect you the way it does him; at least he knows that you have nothing on your conscience to have exposed to the world like this.

The man has a cigar and Stevie has a shield.

And they’re both alone.

___

It takes you linking your arm with his for him to finally pull himself away from the painting, but the walk to the next gallery is spent with him wishing it would stop searing itself stronger into his brain each time he closed his eyes.

The final collection is at the far end of the hall, in a separate room altogether. Accessible only if you wanted to, which was good. Saves people from an uninvited gloom.

Pain and Perseverance: A Glimpse Look into the Darkest Years

He knows what it’s about. You do, too, which is why you turn to him hesitantly.

“We don’t have to go in,” you say, standing near enough to him for his enhanced hearing to catch your heartbeat. It tethers him, connects him to a living, breathing being.

“I think we should,” he replies, steadfast to the point it was almost robotic.

There is only one other person in the room with you both, and she isn’t paying much attention to him, so he takes off his cap in reverence.

It’s fitting how silent and closed off this part of the museum is to the rest of the world. A tribute to those who wouldn't be able to set foot into this room.

Your hand slides out from his and he lets you go gently. He knows you’re around, so it’s okay. He knew the second you'd walked in that you'd need space to process each piece on your own.

He quietly makes his way through the fifteen paintings and photographs, mulling over each one for a few seconds at the very least.

There’s one in all black, two birch wood trees on a hill with nothing else in the distance. Another blurry picture of a single armchair left to collect dust from years of unuse in the corner of an old age home.

Steve doesn't dare to swallow the heaviness in his throat. There is anger, regret, helplessness in the walls around him. But all of it stems from the same miserable channel- a single, desperate sadness.

He lands up at the final piece on display, a glass box standing tall. The woman from earlier is still there, unmoving.

Steve doesn’t disturb her, only stays a step away from her and instead stands in front of painting of comfort, of two men so close their necks entwined with each other.

“Sorry.” She clears her throat to get his attention, giving him a misty smile when he turns to look at her.

“Please,” he says, earnest and kind, “take all the time you need.”

“Feels like I’ve been here hours.” She inclines her head towards the casing. “There’s something about it.”

He only waits for her to finish. A few minutes of silence later, she takes a step to the side, allowing him a little space to stand beside her and see for himself what she had stopped at.

It’s a sculpture, a kid made of metal, with spangly arms and a tiny head molded rustically like years of weathering had done a number on him. His arms wrap around his knees, hugging them close to his body as he dipped his forehead in the valley they formed together.

Its emotion lays in its simplicity- anything more than what has been made would have been too much.

There’s a pull that doesn’t allow him to tear his eyes away from it. The only time he does is to read the artwork label, to gain a little more insight.

“Heartbreaking, isn’t it?” the stranger asks from beside him. His silence and the pit in his stomach is enough to answer.

He hopes she’s all right. He hopes she made it out all right.

Berta Pedrero (b. 1976)

Despair, 2020

In memory of her son, Mateo J. Pedrero.

If he dared to, he would shoot a little prayer into the sky for her son, wherever he is, but he stays grounded, eyes on the sculpture because he remembers he has forgone that right a long time ago.

The stranger beside him walks off after a few more minutes of silence. He can feel your hand slip into his, and he holds on, tighter than usual.

Steve continues to stare, long after she’s gone.

___

You read out the description from the pamphlet, the idea behind the execution and the artists who made it possible as Steve walks silently beside you.

“Took three years to curate it,” you inform him. “Fifteen different countries. They’ve included a quote.”

His gaze flicks to you, clearing his throat as he asks, “What is it?”

You wordlessly hand it over to him and he scans the page until it lands on the quote at the bottom.

Steve exhales, jaw tightening as he reads through it again.

The poets write of tragedy, not to honor the sorrow,

but to remind themselves that something survived it.

-A.J.

Though the sentiment is strong and he feels it in his bones, he discards his pamphlet on the way out. He already carries the weight of the world on his back, and he tries not to add the weight of the words to his pocket.

-----

"Okay, Rogers." You clap your hands together, rubbing your palms as you shift in your seat. "Prelude to the big event. Spill.”

Steve raises an eyebrow. "This wasn't the start of the road trip?"

"Nope. That only starts once we get to the first official stop. This is just the introduction. The prequel, if you may."

"Ah," he says from across the booth. "It was... impressive."

"Please note that at the end of this trip, you will be filling out a form on the overall serve so that we can improve our experiences for next time.” You sound exactly like some of the sales people he’s met, chipper yet monotone.

"Can't wait." Steve picks up his glass of water, avoiding your sight. Next time. "As if the very comprehensive survey you sent wasn't enough."

"You chose to be friends with a scientist. I had to check all the variables and preferences before I planned a trip."

"What did my fabric preferences have to do with the road we're taking?"

There's a wicked twinkle in your eye. "Just checkin’ those boxes, Rogers. Like I said, all variables"

The kitchen doors open, and Steve hears the crackle and sizzle from inside for a few seconds before they swing shut again. The brief opening is enough for the smell of meat grilling to overpower the scent of lemon pies in display domes, stale coffee and freshly mopped floors.

"What is it then?" Steve asks as you push a large glass towards him. "The trip you’ve planned?"

You look up at the waiter, giving him a quick smile as he leaves two milkshakes on the table.

"Route 66."

His eyebrows knit together in recognition. "The Mother Road?"

"You've heard of it." Your smile widens.

"Yeah, they started constructing it when I was a kid. I thought it didn't exist anymore."

“Technically it doesn’t,” you admit. “But I’ve done my research. We’re just following what it used to be. Old highways and signs and all that.”

He hums in agreement. “And if we get lost?”

“I got a couple of flare guns in the trunk,” you dismiss. “I’ll get you to California, Stevie, don’t you worry.”

He doesn’t doubt it.

“So,” you say, wiping your hands on your napkin before unlocking your phone and sliding it towards him, “We stay at the motel down the road tonight, get an early start tomorrow.”

Steve's reply is cut short before it even begins when someone comes to stand beside him.

"Here you go," the server drags the last syllable out, placing two hefty plates in front of you both. "Enjoy."

Steve thanks him courteously before says before eyeing what you'd convinced him to order.

“To the first burgers,” you hold up a fry, “and many more to come.”

Steve pulls the plate towards him where it joins his still untouched vanilla milkshake.

"No healthy stuff, you said?" He peers up at you.

"‘Least not for the first week,” you reply determinedly. "Relax. You can get back to the oat bars next week."

“I haven't only been eating protein shakes and nut bars,” he protests. “Microwave dinners. They aren't the healthiest, they should count.”

"I thought you hated those." Your eyebrows knit together. "Isn’t that why you cooked?"

Steve's voice immediately drops to a mumble. "Haven't had the time."

“She still pickin’ up those extra shifts?”

“Double this weekend.” Steve fidgets with a newspaper.

“How’re you gonna keep yourself fed?”

“I can cook.”

“Cereal ain’t a meal, kid.”

If you notice the shift in his tone, it's quickly distracted by the way he pushes a fry around the plate.

“Jesus, Rogers, it’s not gonna kill you.”

“I’m old.” Nevertheless, he pulls the glass towards him. “We can’t write off anything.”

You snort. “Just drink the milkshake, Stevie. It’s good for ya.”

Burgers, greasy, well-salted fries and exorbitantly large glasses of milkshakes; it’s probably the most American Steve’s felt in a while. The minute he takes a bite from it, his body sinks down with a content sigh that has you grinning.

“Tomorrow, the first stop; Chicago, right?” He takes another bite from his burger, watching you scroll through pictures of the motel for him.

“Yep.”

“We got plans there?” The food shouldn’t taste this good, but it does. Probably one of the better establishments you were going to encounter on this trip but he can’t really be bothered by the implications at that moment.

“I got a few ideas.” You pull your phone back before returning to your meal. “But mostly we’ll be figuring it out as we go. Survey results dictate that we don't follow a tight schedule.”

"Today we're in Morocco. Next week we'll be in Lebanon," she sings slowly. "After that who knows?"

"Depends on where we're needed next." He takes aim and throws his dart.

Beyond all the restrictiveness and tediousness, he was just really fucking tired of them.

“You know," you pipe up, observing his features for a second, "you’ve been doing this thing a lot."

“What?”

“Spacing out.” Ah, fuck. “You did it back there, at the museum too.”

Steve simply shrugs, head turned down to his plate. “It just happens."

“How long?”

As long as you'd known him, he had always been attentive, on his toes, waiting.

“A little while.” He can pinpoint exactly when and what had lead to it. Studying through window blinds, old uniforms, and all of a sudden his path for the future started to get less clear.

“Have you talked to anyone about it?”

“Not specifically."

You pause. "Does anyone know?”

Steve’s next exhale comes at a delayed pace.

"You'd be the first."

Your lips press together in a thin line, deep crevice between your eyebrows.

"I've just been tired lately," he deflects. It wasn’t a whole lie, but it feels wrong. He had time. He had time. He has to remind himself that he had time.

Steve continues quickly, “I'll be fine. Look, I'll be gettin' loads more sleep now anyway.”

He leans forward to steal a fry off your plate and it works to an extent. There's a small smile that pulls at one side of your face.

"Steve."

"Sweetheart." He cracks a smile. “I'll be fine, I promise. What have you been writing lately?”

The swift subject change has you furrowing your brows, and then a sigh when it registers. However, you drag yourself forward to take a sip from your milkshake.

“Nothing,” you admit. “Haven't written in a while.”

It’s the silence that lingers in the air that prompts you to go on.

“I dunno.” You twirl a fry around the plate. “Been hard to find something to write about.”

Steve finishes off the last of his burger, wiping his hands down on a napkin.

“When was the last time?”

Your eyes squint in contemplation. “Six, seven years ago?”

“Can I get y’all anything else?” the server chirps from beside the booth, refiling your glasses of water, while balancing a tray in another.

You look at Steve and he shakes his head. “No, thank you. Just the bill, please.”

“Sure thing,” he says, setting down a plate with a slice of pie. “Enjoy.”

You glance up in confusion. “I think you have the wrong table.”

“It’s on the house.” It’s clear who it’s for, though the answer remains up in the air.

Steve sends the man a side-smile. “Appreciate it.”

The server nods, before leaving the both of you alone.

“Told you your stupid cap isn’t going to do anything.” You laugh when Steve pulls it off his head and sets it down beside him, running a hand through his flattened hair.

“Just got us a free piece of pie, I’d say it has some use.” He passes you a spoon and pushes the plate so it’s in the middle of you both.

“Right, because it’s your fashion sense that won them over, Steven.” You break a piece of the crust. ”Lift your leg up, show ‘em your slacks. Maybe we could get an extra slice for the road.”

He laughs, partly at you and partly at the absurd amount of whipped cream on the pie itself. It was generous, to say the least, and melting all over the still-warm filling. Pretty as a picture.

“Fuck, that’s good.” You sigh, chewing thoughtfully. “I need to earn free food privileges if this is what I’m missing out on.”

“The pie’s the better end of the deal.” He shovels a spoonful into his mouth. “A lot of the time it’s beer bottles with your face on it.”

“Classy,” you reply, having seen exactly what he was referring to. “What's next? Your face on underwear?”

Steve's silence and his failing ability to hide a pained smile has you faltering in your movements.

"Really?"

"I've been shown pictures," he complains. "From what I know, they're not sold as a collection or retail line."

"Which means they're customized," you continue, fingers pinched together explanatory. "Does that make it better or worse?"

Steve's nose scrunches and he hides his distaste with a spoonful of pie in his mouth. "You tell me."

He’s a little grateful that you don’t shy away from pulling his leg. Makes him feel normal, like he was more than a concept; if there was something so hilarious about Steve as an ambassador for patriotic fireworks then it means that he hasn’t lost himself completely.

“What’s an average person gotta do around here to be inspiration for horrifying underwear, huh?” You send the last piece of pie his way. "Get printed on cereal boxes, et cetra et cetra."

“Get kidnapped, maybe.” He accepts it without an argument. “They’ll stick you on a couple of milk cartons.”

You narrow your eyes at him and he sends you a sly smile in return.

"Invent something.”

“Hell, maybe I will.” You wave your spoon around dangerously. “Get my name in a textbook.”

“You could do that,” he agrees. “You'd have the resources from the new job. A whole team under you, funding.”

You narrow your eyes at him. "Very smooth, Rogers."

His smile comes back bashful. “Why don’t you want to take it? I thought it’s everything you’ve worked towards.”

“It is.” You collect foam off the side of your glass with the straw, a distraction from having to look at him. “I’m just not sure I’m ready for it.”

“Is it the job or something else?”

Your lips press together, curling inward, but you don’t respond. It tells him he’s clocked you scarily fast.

“Job’s mine whenever I want it,” you say, eyes still trained on anything you could fiddle with. “I’m just not sure I’ll ever be ready."

Steve only slips his hand into yours the same way you did at the museum and squeezes. "You don't have to do anything you don't want to."

You give him a smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes, and he returns it before you shake your head in an attempt to change the mood.

“I’m not kidding about the slacks, by the way.” It immediately relieves some of the tension that had settled in comfortably.

"Yeah, hold on, I'll lift my leg up," Steve affirms, clearing his throat.

“Damn right. Let’s see if we can score another flavour, I know you get hungry at night.”

Next part

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #captain america x reader #captain america x you #mcu fic #marvel fic #steve rogers fic #captain america fic #steve rogers angst #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers series #captain america fluff #captain america angst #captain america series

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mirror-to-the-past · 11 months

Text

Finished my Birth by Sleep playthrough! Here's a long analysis of the game and KH themes as a whole, my feelings on it, and random other things.

I'm gonna preemptively apologize for negative vibes in my little collection of thoughts here, but please be assured of the fact that while I'm much more critical of this game than previous KH entries I've gone through so far, there's definitely been some things I've appreciated about it.

My biggest issue with this game is its story and the wasted potential therein. I can see the vision had for this game and how important it is as a whole, thematically. First and foremost, this game has demonstrated that the events that took place in KH1 regarding the tension between the main trio were not an unfortunate anomaly in this game's universe, and that instead, the battle between light and darkness was always truly an issue of upholding societal views/expectations across generations versus forgoing all that and finding self acceptance, accordingly, escalating enough to literal War because of how serious the perceived conflict between light and dark can become. I find it additionally interesting and solidifying how the societal views versus self acceptance conflict carried over from KH Days, the previous game, in terms of how the Organization conducted itself and fell apart from the inside. Goes to show that this struggle exists within the series prevalently enough even outside of the so-called "light v. dark" situation.

And seeing how this multi-generational phenomenon has operated at the detriment of the BBS trio is there to tell the audience "hey, this is what happens when people are trained to ostracize that which is seen as bad or different," should be compelling. It's a great set-up on paper: You've got Aqua, the new Keyblade Master who feels especially pulled to meet the expectations set for her, prioritizing her duty to such a degree that she alienates her companions. You've got Terra, who feels disgusted by himself and dangerous for being an outlier of those same expectations. He feels like he'll never be good enough, and he feels angry at himself for that, and angry at the others for having what he doesn't. He does all the right things, is respectful towards all the right people, bending over backwards for them, and even then, they only seek to distrust and manipulate him rather than say he's enough.

Then you've got Ventus, the literal embodiment of being pulled in two directions. He watches all of this tension happen around him like he's inside an insulated jar, feeling helpless and confined by the world that seeks to suffocate and isolate him, and knows he has to do something but is unsure what. He strikes out on his own, gets the "you're too immature/young to know better" treatment from the people supposed to back him up, and gets slapped in the face for his attempts to disrupt the system.

On paper it's great!

In execution, it's often not great.

Like I've said before, the dialogue is majorly clunky, the voice direction questionable (I always give VAs benefit of the doubt, and assume the voice direction might have been lackluster before anything else) for me, to a noticeable degree. And with the dialogue, it's weird, because it's not like the whole game was god awful with it. It was more like there was an entirely different team handling the dialogue for the main trio than everyone else. I acknowledge this may be different on the original Japanese script, but I've no way of knowing how exactly. I thought the Disney characters were done very well- their dialogue flowed naturally, bouncing off of other characters, as well as the voice acting just generally being great for them as always. I thought Braig was great again too, more on him later. Vanitas was an edgy brat, and I thought he was fun, so I've got no real issue with him and thought the amount of contrast from the tone of him and Sora was impressive from the same VA. I'm give or take on Xehanort, bordering slightly more on positive, although I will kill him for insisting on saying "key"-blade instead of "kye"-blade when referring to the x-blade. You suck, old man.

But the main trio? Ahh! Half of their conversations felt like different phrases stitched together that were somehow supposed to make sense- ah yes, a person would definitely say that in response to that other thing! The actual execution of the miscommunication between the trio was confusing, if anything, and not believable. An example off the top of my head was in Aqua's route where she seemingly hears only the tail end of Maleficent's spiel, and rushes in with a "Terra would never do that!" Girlie has no idea what Terra did, from my perspective, which continues with the Radiant Garden argument cutscene where she's like "I've seen what you've done." No?? No, you haven't seen anything at that point?? It's only upon reading the journal for that Enchanted Dominion section that I learn apparently Aqua was implied to have heard more of the conversation between Ventus and Maleficent than the audience is shown. Oh, and more on the "argument" between the three of them in Radiant Garden that I watched three times, and all three times it never got better- Goodness gracious, it was like they were told to pretend to be mad at each other, with no natural buildup of a sense of betrayal on Terra's part (once again, I get what they were going for, but it wasn't written believably). Ventus' "You're awful Aqua," just had me with my head in my hands. This game really piled onto using innumerous trailed off sentences for dramatic effect, and it got to the point where most conversations didn't even follow a logical flow because of it.

And why, oh why, did the writers see it fit to really hammer home the parallels between the Disney Worlds and the main characters they were trying to make, and didn't usually even do a good job making? Previous games made plenty of parallels that weren't even necessarily subtle, but the audience could still go on their own "...and that's how that applies to []." This game saw fit to... hand holding isn't the right phrase... catapult you by the wrist head first into What They Were Trying For in each Disney world. This was often to the point of feeling incredibly unnatural for each character's progression. Especially with Aqua and Terra, it was like they would jump from being very cordial with everyone in the Disney worlds, to suddenly being like "You know, 😊 ✨ you can find the drive for everything that you hurt from in your heart, with your friends. And also Here's The Lesson For the Day." Like, this game was MOSTLY the closest thing to me feeling like, yeah, I am playing a Saturday Morning Cartoon game. I think it would've been fine if Terra and Aqua especially didn't learn many lessons, actually, given that their journeys were supposed to sort of be downward spirals fueled by misunderstanding and obfuscation. It feels a bit silly in retrospect.

And before anyone thinks it, no I don't have a gripe with the "I love my friends" stuff by itself. I love plenty of mushy-gushy "power of friendship" shit, and I'm not gonna stop here (you will rip it from my cold, dead hands), the Final Episode with Aqua demonstrated that aspect in a really loving way. What I DO have a problem with is that because of how excessive it was in the other areas, it actively sabotaged the time it could have taken to expand upon the other, just as prevalent themes I discussed earlier. Instead of Terra talking more with Hercules like "You know... sometimes it's like the world works against me, when I try to be a hero. It's like I'll never be good enough to be someone anyone could rely on." Or instead of Aqua being like "The Lost Boys simply following orders from Peter because they were told to, pushing down their own fear out of necessity... how long have I...?" You get: "FRIENDS! :D"

I will now take the rest of this long post to finish off with some bits and pieces of things that I enjoyed throughout my playthrough. Thank you for your patience and attendence. Before any of the smaller bits though, I gotta talk about the Final Episode and Secret Ending.

RAAA HOW DOES THIS SERIES CONTINUE TO MAKE THE BEST ENDINGS?

Like seriously, I want whatever magic they have with that, because endings are so, so hard to conceptualize and execute in what feels like a meaningful way. But the way they wrapped everything up in the Final Episode and set the stage for the KH1 plot and everything else... damn. My complaints on dialogue mainly fixed themselves during the ending, too. The Land of Departure is now Castle Oblivion and where Ventus' body rests, oh shiiit. I wonder if the Organization found him while they occupied it? 🤔 The scene where Aqua carried out Ventus piggyback was so tender, and it was so sweet how Ventus subconsciously wanted to be safe at home, while he rested. And my theory about Ventus was right! Although, I'm still fuzzy on how Vanitas took on Sora's appearance prior to him and Ventus fusing with Sora's heart. It would make sense if he took on that appearance afterwards, though, as well as why he ALSO happened to have traits of Riku: "Giving up already?" (Which he said multiple times, so I doubt it's coincidental) It's thanks to Riku's advice that Ventus/Vanitas' wandering heart was able to be saved, after all, so... I guess Vanitas absorbed traits of the both of them for that reason? But none of that makes sense if Vanitas unmasked before Ventus connected with Sora. Argh. This is the only time in the series I've been confounded by a plot point. I broke my streak. Please, someone kindly explain it to me, if it's not too much trouble. I'm too afraid to look for forums/wiki out of fear of future game spoilers. If this will be explained in a future game, leave me be, then.

Side note, once again, I find it crazy how baby Riku knew so much, instinctually, about the other worlds. His whole surprisingly accurate explanation as to why Sora was feeling drawn to Ventus' wandering heart to the point of non-realized tears was just... woah. "They say every world is connected by one great big sky. So maybe there's somebody up there's in all those worlds who's really hurting, and they're waiting for you to help them. Maybe you just need to open your heart and listen." With Riku's empathy powers and Sora's heart storage compartment powers, they're unstoppable, for real.

Attack idea: Riku reaches into Sora's heart like a Mary Poppins bag- "Random bullshit, go!" and out pops reinforcements a la Xion, Roxas, Ventus, Vanitas, and Sora goes "Oh sick, forgot where I put those, thanks," before promptly absorbing any other sorry soul in the vicinity while Riku swings him in a circle like a broadsword (Sora yelling "wheee"). (This is incredibly funny in my head, you must understand.)

That whole Secret Ending where Aqua has been in the Realm of Darkness for 10 YEARS and so, so unfortunately missed Riku and Sora's Realm of Darkness getaway at the KH2 Ending is so sad. Apparently Ansem's not dead either. Guess his machine just warped him there, because why not. And guys... guys I got close to crying again with the in-between scenes text ("All the pieces lie where they fell, where they wait for him...") the Dearly Beloved Rendition crescendoing, and all of the lost people calling out for help for the one person who's connected to all of them, even if it's just been a passing meeting (Roxas, Xion, and Axel got me, okay)- because Sora, to them, is familiarity, and it's all they can grip to at this point as an anchor of hope. And Sora's "mind is made up" about something regarding the letter from KH2 ending, and I'm going to assume it's a mission to help find Aqua, given the context, or just generally the other worlds because of the "I am who I am because of them," line from Sora. Looks like he'll be leaving Destiny Islands again. I hope the other two will come with, but I get the feeling Kairi doesn't want to leave, considering how her character has been established and because it seems like Sora is apologizing for breaking the promise he (ever so carelessly clearly, you meanie) made her at the KH2 ending regarding everyone staying together all the time at the Islands. That would suck though, given she's got Destiny's Embrace now. :(

And now, for the more scattered, finishing thoughts of things I liked:

This game has my second favorite gameplay, only falling short of KH2! It's so fun, and the different forms were awesome. Aqua's Blade Charge and Ghost Drive form literally made me squeal with delight, she looked so cool. Blade Charge really fit with those princely vibes she had throughout the game, too.

Speaking of princely vibes, one parallel that I did think was executed well was the Ventus/Snow White parallel. I like how he and Aqua exist as a familial/platonic rendition of Snow White and Prince Florian (think that's his name, I just had a convo about the Prince Charmings' actual names recently, coincidentally enough), and that Ventus is mourned over as a pure soul who was tricked into a death-like slumber while he resides in his glass dome (Castle Oblivion/Sora), waiting to be awoken by love (as stated by Yen Sid).

Although I thank Days for setting the foundation for it, I'm so happy that Neverland became a full-fledged world finally, in this game. I felt so ripped off in KH1, so this was awesome. It's one of my favorite worlds in general. I love how Peter Pan continues to be a lovable bitch. Good for him. I was hoping his boss fight would be a little more scary, especially considering the jump of holy fear I felt when I realized I had to fight him, lol.

I really liked the interaction between Ventus and Scrooge, for some reason! I dunno, I just thought it was really cute and very natural. That whole cutscene where Ventus was chasing the Unversed boss and getting distracted along the way was just so... hah. My little attention deficit kiddo. I appreciate him.

Continuing that last note, I admittedly don't feel too personally invested in the BBS trio, although I probably should. Because of how awkwardly executed everything was with them, it's just difficult to. However, if I had to pick a favorite, it would be Ventus. He had just enough small moments for me to find him somewhat endearing.

"Will somebody tell me how I got. so. SMALLLL?!"

Rolling around on balls of yarn in Cinderella's world like wheeee...

Everything with Maleficent. She's my favorite as always, I cheer when she's on screen, for real.

Aqua losing words in anger at the second Vanitas fight on Neverland and just resorting to blurting out "You freak!" was perfect. I always love it when characters just lose it at the antagonists, rather than having a more clever response. It was the "Old hag," of BBS.

The whole scene with Aqua and Kairi... eeee I'm love them. I like how Kairi had the flowers in her hand already, but after Aqua saved her, then, she was like "I picked these for you, 😊" lol, okaaay, Kairi. Whatever you say.

All the Org Members in Radiant Garden before the disaster of '02! It was so good to see them, and I'm curious about what Lea and Isa (I got Isa's name right in my prediction as well as Lea's name, literally throwing a party 🎉 I have more hope for the others, now) were planning on doing at the castle. Even was a shady mf as always, lol, and Ienzo was an orphan? Aw... his little emo bangs and his tiny lab coat were so cute. The fact that Even was his guardian explains so much about how Zexion acts.

Like I've raved before, the Destiny Islands scenes were so good, and once again, makes me wonder if the writers for the BBS trio were separate from the other writers. And if not, what happened, guys? Because the Sora and Riku scenes were so endearing. I forgive Sora for being a less-good cosmically-designated bodyguard for Kairi, because apparently he's also a cosmically-designated bodyguard for Riku as well. Hoo, boy, he's got his work set out for him! And that's kinda a lot of pressure to put on a preschooler Aqua, jeez-louise. She took one look at the two of them and went "frequently bought together," but didn't foresee just how messy that was gonna be for poor Sora.

"In time, the worlds would be saved by these two heroes who stood beneath the same blaze of stars." I love the star/meteor shower motif with these guys, but now it's clearly starting to make me inexplicably emotional. *Watery laugh*

I got a good laugh because of Ventus' VA while he was having his migraine on Destiny Islands. I was on a call with someone while playing, and he started making his... pain... noises... I had the person on the line stop mid sentence and go "what are you watching?" I lol-ed so hard, and explained I was watching a blonde anime boy experience trauma-induced flashbacks. I can only hope they believed me. 😂

Braig was just great all around. I joked where he lost his eye where I was like "he just shoots Xehanort instead of requesting payment for medical bills" and then it cuts to him actually shooting at Xehanort. I love this guy. And assuming Xehanort in Terra's body really did have amnesia, it's likely this mf's fault with all his manipulation and suggestion that we got KH1, damn. Not even surprising. He's just that guy who's been behind the scenes since the very beginning, pulling at the strings- kind of vibe, lol.

I haven't beat him yet, because frankly, I'm pretty garbage at extra bosses in this series, but holy SHIT. Vanitas' Lingering Spirit theme is CRAZY. It's now one of my favorite pieces in this franchise- and I thought Vanitas' base theme was good.

The conversation Ventus had with Sora in the latter's heart was so sweet, guys. "Would you mind if I stayed here with you?" "Sure, if it'll make you feel better." Sora is so sweet, oh my god. I'm wrapping him up in a little blanket and giving him a warm cup o' tea in my mind. I might just put him as my other most favorite along with Roxas and Xion. I cannot decide who I like most between the three of them.

Uh, I don't think there's anything else I really had to put to paper, so I'll finish my little (little, yeah right) entry here. If anyone read this all the way through, your attention span is commendable and you should probably get back to finishing your hard copy volume of the Iliad or whatever people with your attention spans do. Also, thank you for reading!

#kingdom hearts #birth by sleep first playthrough #kh bbs #birth by sleep #kh sora #kh aqua #kh ventus #kh terra #kh kairi #kh riku #kh vanitas #thank you to anyone who answers my Vanitas question

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