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esther-dot · 6 months

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Pride & Prejudice AUs

You Look Like A Movie, You Sound Like A Song 2k @jonsastan

She had met Jon Targaryen there. It was a complete accident and at first, Sansa thought, a complete misfortune. He was drenched from an impromptu swim in his pond, and she was flustered, not wanting him to think she was vying for his attention. But as she had attempted to make her hurried escape, he had found her and invited her parents to stroll with him around the gardens. He had offered her kindness, and thoughtfulness, he had talked with her parents, discussed the present state of politics with her father and chatted knowledgeably about gardens with her mother.

A Certain Step Toward Falling in Love 2k by @comma-splice

Jon Snow returns North after departing abruptly one year ago.

The Bennet Sisters - a P&P AU comic by @melinaillustrations

P&P Gifset by @sardoniyx, P&P Gifset by @dcbicki, P&P Gifset by deactivated

Persuasion AUs

Who Loves Longest, Who loves Best 1k by @ladysaruka

After refusing him years ago, Sansa sees her cousin once again.

Persuasion edits one, two , three by @glueck

Mansfield Park AUs

Half Agony, Half Hope 10k, incomplete by @noqueenbutthequeeninthenorth

After the death of his disgraced mother, Jon Snow is taken in by his uncle's family, the Starks of Winterfell. He grows up alongside his cousins, including the beautiful and kind-hearted Sansa, but knowing he can never truly be their equal, he fears he has little choice but to leave the place he's come to call home. corresponding moodboard

Catch Me If You Can 34k (P&P and Emma inspired too) by @ben-barnes-is-my-husband

Set in the countryside of Regency England, Jon Snow has been in love with Sansa Stark for as long as he can remember. He wants her as his wife, but Sansa is not sure she wants to be a wife at all, and she knows she doesn’t want to marry the pragmatic and boring Jon. She’d rather help Theon Greyjoy come out of his shell and play matchmaker. But then Jaime Lannister comes to town and Jon finds he has some serious competition for Sansa…

Moments Like This (So Few and Far Between) 3k by @lydiamartenism

Mama and Papa left the house to go pick up Jon, the son of her father’s oldest friend. Three weeks ago, the phone rang and their parent’s announced that Jon would be coming to live with them since his mother passed away and had no one else to take care of him.

Northanger Abbey AUs

The Lady in White 7k by @kissed-by-circe

Dragonstone Manor had looked like it had woken only a few days earlier, after a slumber of several years, if not decades, and Sansa had felt like the heroine of a gothic novel, a mysterious, naive girl with a dark past or a dark secret, arriving at the opening scene of the most dramatic story of all times. Or Sansa as Katherine Morland in a Jane Eyre Setting.

Sense & Sensibility AUs

In Such Jocund Company 2k @maybetwice

It would be no matter at all for Captain Snow to return to the north after seven months’ absence, had Sansa’s heart not changed entirely in that time. A remix of Colonel Brandon and Marianne Dashwood from Sense and Sensibility.

Emma & Clueless AUs

if i loved you less 2k by @ladystarks

Her father has, often and fondly, told Sansa that she and Mr. Snow bite at each other like wolves, but he hardly understood that their verbal sparring was as exhilarating as a sport well done, or a match coming together under Sansa’s skilled hands. corresponding artwork

Sansa: A NOVEL in Five Parts 15k by @imagineagreatadventure

Sansa Stark, handsome, clever, rich, hopes to establish herself as her town's foremost matchmaker. After seeing her governess Miss Shae married to the rich and clever Mr. Tyrion Lannister, she feels as though she deserves that title. Her dear friend and cousin, Jon Targaryen, heartily disagrees and is quite proven right when Sansa sets her sights on marrying off her newest and dearest friend Jeyne Poole to the vicar Mr. Baelish.

A Baldwin and a Betty 2k

Jon drives to the Valley to give Sansa a ride home.

Emma AU art by @dcvahkiin and Clueless art by wolvesofspring

Emma Gifset by @dcbicki

General Regency AUs

No Notion of Loving by Halves 2k @darkmagyk

The Stark cousin, Jon, goes home to discuss matters concerning the entail on Winterfell. In which Jon is a really good guy, and I flagrantly disregard how entails actually work.

Manners and Misunderstandings 114k, WIP by @x-winging-it

The Stark sisters have travelled all the way to London to begin their first season, leaving behind the familiar world of Winterfell Hall and a disappointed Jon Stark- with whom the eldest Miss Stark has been convinced to break off a connection. In London they join family friends the Baratheons and the fashionable young Tyrells in a world of romance and balls. Meanwhile Gendry Waters has been plucked out of the life he knew to become his ailing father's heir, Robb, Theon and later Rickon embark on military careers in the Napoleonic wars, and their aunt Lysa makes a foolish marriage. When tragedy hits the family, they must come together, learning how manners may hide monsters and the best people are often those misunderstood by society.

You Could Draw Me to the Gallows 2k by @azulaahai

After having eloped from home with and subsequently been abandoned by wealthy heir Joffrey Baratheon, Sansa Stark refuses to come home. Having caused a scandal that is sure to prevent her from ever marrying, she is adamant not to bring further shame to the family name by returning to Winterfell. Until, that is, a visitor comes to her - Jon Snow, an old family friend, determined to bring Sansa with him back north. He has a solution to offer her - a proposal with the potential to change both of their lives.

A Perilous Dance Indeed & fiercely, tenderly and eternally 27k by @amymel86

He should either look away or interrupt this improper little meeting, he knows. For some unfathomable reason, he does neither. The two look far too intimate for Jon’s liking, although he feels he should have come to expect it to be so. A romantic like Sansa – however proper she is – would simply adore overt flirtations and a secret tête-à-tête. Even from where he stands, Jon can see the way in which she has stars set in her eyes like precious cut stones. He only hopes the man for whom they shine is deserving of it. *** Cousin Jon is to inherit Winterfell Manor and its estate after the untimely death of his uncle leaves a widow and two daughters. Sansa is expectant of an imminent proposal from her dear beau, Harrold Hardyng and everything will be absolutely, stunningly, utterly fine.

Waiting for Your Slippered Feet 49k by @wintry-ritu

Lady Sansa Stark has always looked forward to her come-out season in London, the balls, the rides in Hyde Park, evenings at Vauxhall, the romance and wonder of it all. Never had she imagined that it would happen like this, with her parents gone and her younger siblings underfoot. Now, all Sansa wants is for it all to be over quickly so she can get back to Winterfell. She needs a kind, amiable man who will be brave enough to take on his wife's siblings. That should not be so hard to find in London, should it? And while she is most grateful for Jon Targaryen's help, why must her cousin be so distracting?

To Make You Love Me 16k incomplete and orphaned

When Ned Stark dies, he leaves behind his wife, two daughters, and his family’s estate at Winterfell. What follows is a series of unwanted marriage proposals, houseguests who far outstay their welcome, and Arya parading around in a comically large hat and an oil-paint mustache as she declares herself the new ‘Lord of Winterfell,’ in an attempt to dissuade her sister’s suitors. However, when Mr. Jon Snow — their distant cousin and Ned’s appointed heir to the estate — comes to call, an oil-paint mustache is hardly enough to deter him from courting Miss Sansa Stark. And she thinks, perhaps, that a man could marry her for love more than her claim, after all.

Mine for a Season 101k by @vivilove-jonsa

Colonel Jon Targaryen is a single man in possession of a good fortune who claims no interest in finding himself a wife. With his war wounds, he thinks no young lady would want him anyway for anything beyond the allure of his pocketbook. Fortunately and unbeknownst to him, Fate has chosen to find a wife for him and will even deliver her right to his doorstep. Taking on the responsibility of shepherding a young lady about for a Season in London is not at all what Jon had wished to do but he had accepted out of a sense of familial duty. However, once he meets Sansa again after only having met her years ago as a child, he may not consider it a duty so much as a torment.

a lady of winterfell 185k, WIP by @wandering-scavenger

She bit her lip and exhaled shakily, “If you are so sickened by the prospect of marrying me, we should be able to obtain an annulment easily enough with your father’s connections.” “I will do no such thing.” he snapped, refusing to look at her. Sansa had never felt more rejected than she did at that moment. Her past experiences of being humiliated at the hand of Joffrey did not feel as painful as this. Even so, she could not allow him to see the weakness in her, not now. “I will not be left out, Jon.” she said, tilting her chin up to look down at him. He grimaced. They were silent for longer than she cared to count, but each second that he did not speak chipped away at her resolve and her ability to withhold her tears. Jon did not want her, and she could not blame him. Who could ever want her? It should not have distressed her as much as it did. She was never his favourite sister, she who treated him as a stranger since she was old enough to understand what a bastard was. A tear slipped down to her face until she tasted the salt of it on her lips. “If we marry, we will remain so.” corresponding gifset

moth's wings 47k by @cellsshapedlikestars

Sansa was determined to convince her aunt to let Arya debut, which is how she finds herself in her current predicament. “Who is this secret gentleman who has asked for your hand?” Aunt Lysa asks, and Sansa knows from her tone that she does not believe. (She has every right not to believe, for it is not true.) And then Sansa does something very, very foolish. She says a name. “The Duke of Dragonstone!” Or, Sansa fakes an engagement so that Arya can debut and marry the man she loves. The only problem? Her fake fiance just so happens to be in the city when he was not supposed to be.

An Understanding 2k, WIP by @thewolvescalledmehome

At the start of Sansa Stark's third London Season, she decides it will be her last. She will secure a husband by the end of the final ball. Jon Snow is new to the London Season and high society. He never expected to inherit money or property from an unknown uncle. When they meet at a ball, Sansa gets an idea.

you're in my blood like holy wine 72k

Sansa finds it difficult to look at Jon’s face, with its weathered lines and cragginess. It is the face of the North and a face that northerners trust; the face of Sansa’s brothers and her father, who had been loved and respected by their tenants as their forefathers had been when they were kings. How can Sansa feel anything but resentment, looking into that face and knowing that all of her years of hard work will never earn her the respect that that profile engenders within seconds? But she does. It is a small, burning coal of something that must be smothered.

PRE CANON - WESTERN - FAIRYTALES - LITTLE WOMEN - HOLIDAY - SEASON 6 ANNE OF GREEN GABLES - THE GIRL IN GREY - FREE CITIES - FAIRYTALE PART II - POLITICAL MARRIAGE - SALTY TEENS - POST CANON

#jonsa #jonsa fic #regency au #pride and prejudice au #emma au #northanger abbey au #mansfield park au #persuasion au #dot fic list #marriage of convenience au #arranged marriage au

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tropes-and-tales · 7 months

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Too Much for You

Day 3: Collaring (Bob Floyd x F!Reader)

(For the 2023 Kinktober event that I created on my own because I am boring and basic and am trying to keep it simple this year...found here!)

CW: Smut (Oral, m!receiving; oblique talk of other sex acts; oblique talk of power dynamics in the bedroom); 18+ only.

Word Count: 2865

AN: This was requested by the lovely @callsign-frostbite!

The Hard Deck is often segregated by cliques, like a high school lunch room: the fighter pilots post up by the pool tables and piano, the fixed wing aircraft pilots claim the stretch of the bar with the dart boards and juke box. The bar proper is the neutral zone, but the two groups rarely mix.

Bob Floyd falls in with the fighter pilots because he’s the back-seater for one, but he feels like he might fit in better with the darts-and-jukebox crowd. They are more sedate, seem more confident in themselves. There’s less of a nightly dick-measuring contest.

It doesn’t hurt that you’re part of the darts-and-jukebox crowd: the prettiest girl he’s ever seen, poured into your uniform so it fits like a glove. You move with that same quiet assurance as your fellow fixed wing pilots, but you’re like a bright point of light, always pulling Bob’s gaze to you. You’re fascinating to watch: when you’re playing darts, when you’re leaning over the jukebox, when you’re dancing a smooth two-step to the songs you pick.

Hangman is the one who first notices Bob’s puppy-dog staring, follows the WSO’s blue-eyed gaze across the Hard Deck where you and the other pilots drink and converse. Hangman nudges Nat, who whispers in Rooster’s ear, who beckons Javi over, and within minutes, the whole crew is watching Bob watching you.

Hangman is the one who first tells Bob not to bother.

“She’s not the one for you, Baby on Board,” he tells Bob while he clasps his shoulder, jostles him a little in his seat. “You need a shy gal. A homebody who will greet you at the door with fresh-baked cookies. A Betty Crocker-type.”

Nat scoffs, shakes her head. “You make him sound like a complete square.”

“Well…” Hangman trails off, shrugs with a wide smile. “I mean…”

“He’s not a complete square, Bagman.” Nat crosses her arms, and she squares up to her fellow fighter pilot. “And anyway, what’s wrong with her? She’s cute.” She tilts her head in your direction.

It’s Javi who has the dirt on you, which sounds like so much of the usual Navy outlandish gossip. He leans in close and tells Bob all about you.

“Her call-sign is Nix,” he says, and he keeps his voice low, as if you might hear over the din of the crowd. “Because she flies one of those Poseidon recon planes. But she’s a complete freak, man. I served on a carrier with a guy whose roommate’s brother dated her. She’s totally into that freaky bedroom shit. She’d eat you alive.”

Bob swallows hard, but he can’t help the flush that breaks out across his cheeks…or the faint throb of lust that drums along with his heartbeat.

“What do you mean, freaky stuff?” It’s Nat who asks the question; his pilot turns and watches you with frank interest now.

Javi shrugs, takes a sip of his beer. “BDSM stuff.” He looks at Bob, gives him another shrug. “Sorry, man. She’s too much for you.”

-----

After the fact, Bob bristles at his teammates’ collective verdict.

Bristling leads to simmering, which leads to outright resentment. The days pass, and Bob teems with indignation. How dare Bagman? How dare Javi? How dare any of them make assumptions about him? Sure, he’s quiet and unassuming and a back-seater, but it grates on his nerves how they act like they know him that well.

They don’t know him at all.

Even their dumb nickname for him: Baby on Board. They forget that he passed the same rigorous training they did, that he graduated from Top Gun just as they did. He’s a goddamned grown man, and they treat him like a boy.

The two cliques at the Hard Deck rarely mix, but halfway through a Friday night, Bob taps into his latent courage—the courage his teammates fail to recognize—and marches over to where you stand by the jukebox. He can hear Hangman behind him, trying to urge him back before it’s too late, but you catch sight of Bob’s approach out of your peripherals and turn to watch him. You neither frown nor smile; your expression is exactly neutral. Bob digs deeper into his hidden reserve of courage, and he holds out a hand.

“I’m Lieutenant Bob Floyd,” he says, and he hopes his teammates can see how he doesn’t stutter, how he meets your gaze levelly because he’s a goddamned man and not a boy. “I heard you fly the new P-8 Poseidon.”

“I do.” You hold your hand out to shake his, and you gift him a smile that seems guarded. “Though it’s a few years old now.”

“Still new by military standards.”

Your smile relaxes, and you drop your hand. “Very true. Are you a pilot?”

Bob shakes his head, tells you he’s a weapons specialist officer, and the conversation flows naturally to your respective aircrafts, the systems on each, and if Bob admired you from afar, he likes the obvious love you have for your airplane even more.

He spends the rest of the night with you, and the hours fly by like nothing. He leaves with your number, and the feeling is better than even the confused look on Bagman’s smug face—that quiet, unassuming Bob Floyd pulled the number of an unattainable fellow pilot.

-----

If you’re into freaky bedroom stuff, it doesn’t make an appearance right away. You and Bob take your time—it doesn’t help that you’re both active duty. There’s a stretch of time, just as your burgeoning relationship is on its shaky new legs, where you’re both deployed on separate missions.

Bob thinks it’ll be the end of the thing between you, but somehow strengthens your relationship. Absence making the heart grow fonder, all that cliched stuff. When you’re finally both back stateside, you make it official: Bob Floyd the WSO and you, the pilot who flies surveillance missions—an official couple.

Your first month as a couple, it’s that awkward period where you’re just figuring each other out in the bedroom. It’s clumsy at first but passionate, the two of you abandoning any pretense of coolness for the ardor that you have for each other.

Bob loves all of it: the time he spends between your thighs, coaxing orgasms from you with his mouth. The time you spend on your knees doing the same for him. All of the varied positions, you riding him, him riding you. The quickies and the love-making where you spend entire hours reveling in each other’s bodies.

BDSM stuff, Javi had said. Bob only has an inkling what that may mean. He imagines whips and chains, a gimp mask, tears of pain. He is open to nearly anything you might want to do, but the idea of pain in the bedroom makes him wary. He doesn’t want to hurt you, even consensually. If it is something you demand, he might have to end things.

The thought tortures him. Each day, he falls more in love with you. Each night, he is slow to fall asleep at the unspoken fear that you may be too much for him and the inverse: that he may not be enough for you.

Bob should have remembered that the Navy is little more than a hive of gossipers. People tell tales, and truth get twisted in the retelling.

Javi and his buddy’s roommate’s brother. Your alleged ex. It was a ridiculous game of telephone. The topic kinda comes up organically over dinner one night, talk about exes, and it leads to Bob blurting out his fears. That he’s not adventuresome enough for you. That when you inevitably ask him to tie you up and whip you, he won’t be able to satisfy you.

The look on your face is priceless. You gaze over your plate at him and ask, “huh?”

He can’t turn back now. He swallows hard, his mouth suddenly dry. “BDSM stuff,” he clarifies. “I don’t…I don’t think I’m into that.”

“Bobby—”

“But I’ll try.” He cuts you off, and he feels sick to his stomach to have brought his silent fears to light with so little finesse. “I’ll try, sweetheart.”

You set your fork down with a quiet clink, and you reach across the table and take his hand. When he chances a look at your face, you don’t seem angry or disappointed. Instead, you smile at him softly.

“You can’t believe everything you hear,” you tell him.

-----

Javi and the gossipmongers in the Navy are half-right: you are not into BDSM.

You are into playing with power dynamics.

Bob gets an education in an entire spectrum of sexuality he’s never even considered before. He’d be ashamed—embarrassed, maybe, as he usually is when it came to frank discussions about sex—but you’re an amazing teacher and, well….he finds that perhaps he’s into playing with power dynamics too.

And you’re both switches. You’re both capable of being dominant or submissive. The possibilities are endless. Bob’s mind boggles at the surfeit of scenes the two of you could play out, and it boggles further to find that those scenes make him fall more and more in love with you. It always felt hokey, talk of how sex was a way to build a connection. Bob never had it before, but now?

Now he has it.

-----

The day goes poorly for Bob: Hangman continues to live up to his nickname, and his rivalry with Rooster spills over to the rest of the TOPGUN pilots. Bob and Nat get paired up with Jake during a dog-fight exercise, and they lose over and over because the man is incapable of teamwork.

Bob can’t control Jake.

Bob can’t even control the plane. He has to cede control to Nat, and he’s usually fine with it, but he feels extra helpless as a back-seater during exercises like this.

But Bob, if he asks nicely, can control you—so when he gets home, frustrated and irritable, he asks if he can be in charge.

You gaze at him a long moment, and your eyes get steadily darker as your pupils dilate.

“Of course,” you tell him.

-----

Bob in charge: he makes you change into the sweet powder-pink lingerie he bought you. A casual cotton dress. He has a housewife kink, he’s found, and he likes to play around with the dynamic of pretending you’re waiting at home for him.

Lingerie, dress. He also helps you put on the collar, a deceptively simple silver band of metal. Not too tight. There’s a little hook at the end for a leash, but neither you nor Bob ever use it. The collar is just a visual reminder of who is in charge, and who is being led.

Bob in charge: he orders you onto all fours. He sits on the couch, freshly showered after his shitty day. He leans back, splays his legs wide. He crooks his forefinger at you.

“Come here, kitten,” he says.

It’s as simple as this. He gives you an order and you obey. He’s in charge; he tells you to crawl to him on hands and knees and you do. You kneel in front of him, your hands on your thighs, your eyes fixed to his face in an expression of adoration. You wait for his next order.

There’s no frustration like with Hangman. There’s no fickle controls like in the back seat of his and Nat’s plane. There’s no dog-fight practice where they lose Maverick in the sun, where they have to do hundreds of push-ups on the tarmac until Bob’s arms burn and his cold fury simmers.

“What do you want?” he asks.

“I want to make you feel good, sir,” you answer, and your voice has a deference it normally doesn’t. Bob feels the tension of his day bleed away bit by bit, then all at once.

Bob in charge: he orders you to put your mouth to him. He’s already half-hard, but he loves the feeling of your warm mouth on him, coaxing him to full life with your worshipful tongue laving him, suckling against his sensitive tip until he’s hard as iron and throbbing in your mouth.

He lays a hand on the back of your head, another tame display of dominance, but he doesn’t force you. He shifts it to cup the side of your face as you take him to the root, your nose pressed against the sparse, coarse curls at the base of his cock. Keeps his hand there as you bob your head, as you take deep breaths through your nose.

You’re reverent when you’re submissive. You always take your time. You cup his balls lightly in one hand, and when you feel them start to draw up—a sure sign his orgasm is approaching—you back off a bit. You release him from the warm confines of your mouth and draw the tip of your tongue over the prominent vein that runs along the underside of his cock. You lick the tip of him, suckle there again until he’s breathing harsh, punched-out breaths. Then you engulf him again, hollow your cheeks and actually hum against him, and the tip of him bumps against the back of your throat until your eyes water.

A lone tear breaks free when you blink, and Bob shifts his hand, brushes it away. He taps you on your chin lightly.

“Eyes on me, kitten,” he orders you, and a moment later, you look up at him.

You look beautifully wrecked: eyes wet and liquid as you gaze at him, your eye makeup streaked and ruined. Your lovely mouth stretched wide around his cock.

“You look pretty as a damned picture,” he tells you, and it’s true. He holds you in this position for a beat, wants to commit the image to memory. He wants to carry this moment with him for future frustrating days—when TOPGUN is grueling, he wants to remember that he has this to come home to.

Not just a gorgeous woman on her knees with her lips wrapped around him, either. You’re that, of course, but you’re more. You’re also the woman who orders him around, who calls him a “good boy,” who cups his face the way he’s cupping yours right now. You’re also the woman who ties him to the bed and teases him relentlessly. You’re also the woman who spends long, lazy Sunday mornings with him, making love in a languid, sleepy way that feels like heaven.

You’re also the woman who flies a spy plane, a lieutenant in your own right, a no-nonsense aviator who commands respect with your quiet competency in a field full of blowhards and jackasses.

Bob releases his hold on your face. He slips his hand down to your throat, and he hooks his forefinger around the metal collar, now warmed from being against your skin.

He tugs it gently. “I’m close,” he warns you. “You gonna take everything I give you? Swallow it down, kitten?”

You pull your mouth away long enough to answer. “Yes, sir,” you tell him, and you sound just as wrecked as he does. He knows what this game does to you. He knows your powder-pink panties are slick with your own arousal, your pretty little pussy likely twitching and clenching around nothing, waiting for him.

He nods, and you bend your head to him again. Your mouth is wonderfully warm, surrounding him, and you pick up your pace. Your hand on his balls squeezes him gently, and he feels his orgasm—delayed several times now—thundering towards him. His hips judder upward, involuntary, chasing the feel of your wet, sucking mouth, and you gag lightly against the action but you never stop.

You never stop once he’s given you an order.

A moment later, the heavy tension in his belly snaps, turns to light and heat that crackles along his spine to the base of his skull, crackles down to where his balls pull up taut in your hand as he comes. He groans out your name, swears as he pulses in your mouth, and each throb of his cock is answered by you swallowing against him, the slim column of your throat working to take everything he gives you.

And you clean him up at his order too, your tongue shyly running over his softening cock, and then your hand tucking him back into his sweatpants before your eyes find his face.

“Thank you,” he tells you. He hooks his finger under your collar again, gently leads you from the floor and onto his lap, and he wraps his arms around you. He presses his head into the side of your neck and sighs out the lingering bit of his frustration from the day, but he’s completely relaxed now. Once he’s recovered, he’ll repay you, but for now, he wants to bask in his post-orgasm glow with you on his lap and in his arms.

And he thinks back to Javi’s words, all those months ago. She’s too much for you, he’d said. Which turned out to be completely untrue: you’re just enough for him. You’re perfect for him.

#bob floyd #bob floyd imagine #bob floyd x reader #robert floyd imagine #robert floyd x reader #robert floyd #top gun maverick #kinktober 2023 #tropes and tales

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peterparkouryo · 1 year

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rebound ii | ✧.*

✧.*

prompt; After Peter ends your relationship after admitting to being in love with someone else, you're a mess and very very miserable.

warnings: semi heavy angst, fluff if you squint

word count: 4.7k

part one part three

It's been four days since your birthday, and your break up with Peter.

You were sad, no you were miserable since that day and you cried every chance you got. It's not because it was on your birthday, if it was any other day you'd probably be just as worst.

Today was Monday, which meant today was also another dreadful, long and dragging, boring day of school. You'd rather be in your bed, eating ice cream as you cried watching a rom-com that was just as bad as your life.

When you got to school, you went straight to your locker, put your things inside and got all needed accessories for your upcoming class. The first class you needed to be at was social studies, which thankfully didn't have him in it, just your friend Betty and his friend Ned.

"Hey, Happy belated birthday!" Betty quickly exclaims the moment you walk into the class room, a couple students glancing at you or her in curiosity.

You send a grateful and albeit, weak smile as you slowly but surely make your way to your assigned seat which just so happens to be right next to her.

"Thanks." You softly mumble just as you sit next to her, the blonde haired girl excitedly turning towards you with too much anticipation.

"So, how was your birthday?" She asked.

"Also, sorry I couldn't be there." Betty quickly added before you could answer.

You wanted to tell her that it was fine, that you enjoyed your birthday with just you and your mom but the last final hour of your birthday was truly the worst part of that whole 24 hour day.

"It's fine, umm, I guess it was okay." You tell her, leaving out the very heartbreaking details you so badly wanted to tell her.

"Did Peter shower you in presents? Did he take you on a date!?" Ohh, did he give you that necklace that you've been ogling for the past few months?" Betty asked, question after question.

Now, you had no other choice but to tell her, and quite frankly, you did not want that to be the agenda for the day, but curse Betty and her curious, bubbly personality.

"Actually, we broke up." You tell it how it is, not sparing to glance at her bewildered expression.

"Broke up?" She repeated in disbelief.

You hum in response, digging into your backpack next to you and pulling out your notebook to jot down the notes on the board, completely trying to block out Betty and her confusion.

"When?" Betty quizzed, her eyes switching back and fourth from your notebook and your side profile.

"He broke up with me, on my birthday." You tell her, looking back down to your notebook, now scribbling nonsense.

Before she could even respond, you continue.

"Apparently, he was in love with Michelle, you know the girl from our math class? The whole entire time. Well, I don't exactly know when he fell in love with her, but it certainly was during our relationship." You rambled, holding back the frustration and tears that threatened to break through.

days you've been going through for the past few days. You still think it's your fault for why Peter broke up with you, he probably found you boring and you didn't give him the attention he needed, which is why you strongly believe he fell for someone much better than you.

You didn't hate Michelle, you actually genuinely liked the brown curly haired girl, she was quiet and observant and super smart, so you can see why Peter liked her a lot. She could also be dark at times from what you remember, and sure it confused you of how and why Peter liked that but maybe you didn't know your ex as well as you thought.

"Y/N, I am so sorry." Betty said, putting a reassuring hand on your shoulder, which you didn't shrug off because you honestly needed some sort of comfort from the past few days.

"It's nothing, I'll be fine." You lied, turning your attention away from her to look at the board once again as the teacher finally decided to teach the class.

It was finally lunch time, and normally you'd sit with Peter and Ned, but that was a no go. Well, it would've been a no go if the other tables weren't full and if Ned hadn't invited you to sit next to him. And who were you to decline an invitation from the nicest boy ever?

So, you made your way to the table that was made for awkward moments, only seeing Ned sit there happily eating his lunch.

"Oh, hi Y/N." Ned greeted you just as you sat directly across from him with your lunch tray in hand.

"Hey." You greeted back, showing a smile.

You knew you were going to regret sitting here, given the fact that Peter is bound to sit here as well and there's no doubt that Michelle would be sitting here also, but you tried to ignore that initiated gut feeling and focus on anything and everything else.

Maybe if Peter saw that you were trying to move on, he'd believe that you did, though all of that is complete and utter bullshit.

"So, you know how in our science class we have that upcoming project about disparities?" You hear Ned's voice ask, glancing at him just in time as he shoves a salty fry into his mouth.

You nod, playing with your food instead, the anxiety slowly creeping into your body.

"Well, I was thinking since you and uhh...you know what never mind. Do you want to be my partner?" Ned questioned quickly, eyes filled with hope.

"Are you only asking me because I'm the smartest in that class?" You tease, narrowing your eyes at him in amusement.

Ned lets out a whole-heartedly chuckle, but before he could joke back a voice you very much expected interrupts you both.

"Sorry, the lunch line was really long..." Peter says defeatedly, tossing his friend a bag of chips as he sat down next to him.

Okay, so maybe you should've declined Ned's offer, but he was sort of your friend and you didn't have lunch with Betty anymore, plus sitting alone would probably be just as miserable as sitting here with your ex, who was in love with someone else.

You're sure you hear Ned respond to Peter's apology, but you're not quite too sure since your brain and ears are filled with anxiety, your head feeling fuzzy at Peter's presence. You could sometimes occasionally feel Peter's glances, probably curious as to why you're sitting here, but you wanted to make a point that you're over him and you didn't sit here because you cared about him still (which was a lie), but because Ned invited you and he was your sort of friend.

"Michelle's in the library today, since she's not really a people's person." Peter informed Ned after his question as of where the brown curly haired girl was.

You were thankful for that, you didn't think you could handle much more of misery.

You're not one hundred precent sure if they're dating now, but if they are you failed to notice, and maybe Peter is just deciding to take things slow since the boy did just get out of a relationship, with you.

The boys continue to make small talk, you ate in silence, or played with your food in silence until the lunch period was over.

And as soon as the bell rung, you hurriedly got up from the table, threw away your lunch and made a bee-line for the cafeteria doors, shoving and squeezing your way through the herd of students.

You sighed in relief as you made it into the hallway, holding a hand to your chest, almost, just almost crying right then and there but you remembered that you were in public, and at school too.

Just as the students that once littered the busy hallway made their ways to the next class that they had, you heard your name being called in the now shallow hallway.

You turn around hesitantly since you already know that voice all too well.

It wasn't Peter, but Michelle, coming from the library doors.

You always knew somehow god wasn't on your side.

"Hey, uh..." The girl started as soon as she approached you, a clad of books stuffed in her right arm.

"Hey.." You mumbled awkwardly, sparing glances at a few students who walked by to get to their next class.

Michelle was as awkward as you were, it was very obvious in the way that the tension around you surfaced rather quickly. You both knew why, it was an unsaid understanding.

"I think I owe you an apology." Michelle states, her eyes never leaving your face as you slowly trailed yours to look into hers.

"For what?" You dumbly ask.

You knew why, you just needed to hear her say it.

"I never meant for Peter to fall in love with me, and to hurt you. I honestly didn't think you two were a thing until a week ago." She admitted, and you could sense how nervous her voice was with that confession.

You knew you had a reason not to hate her, she was just as confused as you.

"It's fine, really." You lie, showing a rather obvious fake smile.

"No, no, it's not. I know he broke up with you on your birthday which is a really shitty thing to do, and I also know that it's not fine. If I could take back his feelings for me and give them to you, I would." Michelle concluded, her aura anything but foulness.

It was really reassuring knowing that the girl felt guilty for your now ex's feelings for her, her showing you the unexpected sympathy, something you thought would be the last thing you would receive from her.

But it was always really confusing how if she has feelings for Peter as well, why feel sorry for you? You did want him to be happy, and if it wasn't with you, so be it. You didn't want to be the reason Peter's unhappiness wasn't fulfilled.

"Michelle, listen." You started, standing up straight to look at her.

"I may be going through a lot with this, but I don't want to be the reason Peter is unhappy. That's the last thing I ever want for him. So, if he wants to be with you..." You trailed off with a shrug, hoping she understood where you were going with this.

Instead of answering the girl just stares at you, her eyes confused, as well as her facial expression, the features slowly falling into a more understanding expression, something you wanted her to see.

"Are you sure? I didn't want to get in the way of any unsaid closure..." She says, pressing her lips into a straight line.

Closure. The word only used to resolve problems. You didn't think breaking up with Peter needed closure.

"Oh, right...closure. I guess we do need to talk." You sigh.

"I would before he decides anything else. I mean that is if you're ready, it's only been four days." Michelle tells you, pushing up her books more into her arm as they were slipping.

You knew she was right, you did say yourself you wanted Peter to be happy, even if it was in a short amount of time.

"I'll just text him and ask him to meet me in the library after school." You tell her, hearing the bell ring, signalling the final warning to get to class.

"Good idea, tell me what he says." Michelle says with a nod before walking past you, mumbling a soft 'bye', and you too decide to make your way to your next period.

You unfortunately kept true to your word to Michelle, and as soon as your last period was over you texted the last person you wanted to see, asking him if you two could talk and to meet in the library after school.

It only took him maybe five or six minutes to respond, saying a quick 'okay'.

So here you were, really nervous, scared, maybe even sad for obvious reasons, waiting at a table that was way in the back of the library, not wanting to be disturbed by any teachers or students that lingered around in the book filled room.

You silently played with your fingers, your entire body on fire with anxiety. You sort of wished he would hurry up so it can get over and done with.

To be quite honest, it reminds you of the time he admitted to having a crush on you. You both were nervous for two totally different reasons. You, being nervous because you thought he was going to tell you he didn't want to be your friend anymore (and rightfully so because of how he was acting during that time), and him, because he of course liked you.

Any oncoming thoughts were caught short as your gaze was met with a familiar head set of curls, and compelling brown eyes coming your way, in a dazed state.

"Sorry, I uh...was busy." Peter mumbled, setting his backpack (the third one you saw that week), onto the library floor next to the seat he pulled out to sit down at.

"It's fine." You shrugged off, your hands now in your lap, keeping your distance, something you hope he didn't notice.

"So, what is it you wanted to talk about?" He asked, looking at you expectingly.

It took a lot of will power to keep your composure.

"Well, I talked to Michelle.." You trailed off, watching his every movement, seeing his pupils dilate just tiny bit.

"Oh?" Peter questioned, slightly biting his lip nervously.

"Yeah, she said we needed some sort of closure before you decide to get into a relationship to her." You told him, looking down at your fiddling hands in your lap.

Peter took notice of how truly nervous you were, and he couldn't help but feel bad, knowing he was the main reason for this.

He also noticed the lack of sleep, due to the much obvious under bags in your eyes, something he had a feeling also had to do with him.

"Right, closure." Peter nodded, clearing his throat.

There were a load of questions you had for him, many that probably would help you better understand how, when and why he fell out of love with you the moment he spent more time with Michelle.

His distance from you during the upcoming end of your relationship put you in a spiral of thoughts, the kind of thoughts that kept you up at night. It also didn't help that you were already an over thinker and the thought of messing up your relationship with Peter always scared you.

Most people would say that dreams come true not nightmares. It wounded you more than anything that you biggest fear did in fact come true.

You didn't really care if he was going to end up dating Michelle, it was bound to happen anyway. You just wanted to know the when and why. You wanted to know what you lacked during that time so in future relationships, you'd be able to avoid it.

"Before we talk, I, um, bought you this." You hear Peter say, the boy reaching inside of his backpack, digging in it before retreating it with an item, holding it toward you.

You reluctantly look up from where your eyes were practically trained on your lap, your hands still shyly there.

It was a small box decorated in your favourite colour, purple.

"What's this?" You curiously asked, taking it from his expecting hand.

"Just a late birthday gift." Peter shrugged, obviously not aware of just how inappropriate and inconvenient his timing was.

"Oh." Was all you said before stuffing it in your pocket.

You'd open it later.

As the day went on, the awkward tension build up, rarely anyone now was in the library, a few ongoing studiers, parents with their kids, or just advocate readers. You wanted some sort of miracle to happen so you wouldn't have to go through this uncomfortable situation.

It was clear neither of you knew how to start this conversation. You had no idea what to say or how to approach the topic of the closure you needed.

You couldn't tell if Peter noticed how miserable your appearance was, both mentally and physically, but you knew he must have known somehow.

"I'm really sorry I broke up with you on your birthday, had I known...I'd probably would've waited." Peter finally speaks up, with a heavy lump down his throat.

Your hands bare on the table as you shuffle in your seat, preparing on a proper response.

The thought of Peter going to break up with your regardless if it was your birthday or not makes your heart feel heavy with a forlorn weight.

"It's, I, it's okay, I guess." You murmur, blinking rapidly for effect.

Another silence settled, and this time you did nothing (like you were before) to speak up and stop it. You thought the more quiet, the less talking and you wouldn't get hurt anymore if either one of you even tried to utter a word.

"I know I hurt you," The boy started, and you look up, waiting for him to continue. "But, I can't say that I, you know what, never mind." Peter waves off, struggling to find the write words.

"And you're barely saying anything makes this a lot harder than it should be Y/N." He says in defeat, reaching out to clasp his hands onto yours.

There was nothing on your end, nothing to be said, nothing you wanted to say. Though you needed closure, you really had no idea what to say. How do you tell someone that you clearly still had feelings for that you love him?

Peter of course, had no idea you even loved him, he of course knew you probably still harboured feelings for him, but he didn't know you had stronger deeper feelings for him. Had the boy not broken up with you on your birthday, you probably would slipped the L word, which probably wouldn't make anything better if you're being honest.

"I'm sorry, I just....don't know what to say." You admit, the warmth of his skin on top of yours sending a wave of shivers from your arms through your entire body.

"Start by telling me how you feel." Peter suggested, and that might not had been the brightest of ideas.

You felt like shit. There hadn't been a day that went by after your dreadful birthday where you didn't.

You squint your eyes at him, slowly removing your hands from his grasp.

"I feel like shit." You tell him, giving the boy a timid look, watching him nod slowly in understanding.

"Right, probably should've guessed that." Peter said shyly, scratching the back of his neck in embarrassment.

"Sorry." He adds on.

"You say that a lot, but do you actually mean it?" You ask him quietly, watching his pupils dilate at your request.

"'Course I do!" Peter almost exclaims, his eyes now wide.

"I-, listen I know I hurt you bad, but the last thing I want is for you to hate me." He stated, pouting slightly.

You didn't hate him, and you think that's even worse.

"I don't hate you, don't think I ever can." You say, pressing your lips together.

It'd probably be a good thing to tell him you loved him, but you were in public and it would hurt even worst if he neglected your love (which would most likely happen) in such a public area.

Maybe you should wait till later, or just honestly get it over and done with, the sooner the better, you thought.

"If I'm being honest Peter, I think-" You begin, your heart pounding wildly against your chest. Your head screaming at you not to do it, but when have you ever listened to your head instead of your heart?

"I think I love you." You whisper at your quietest volume, and hopefully god was on your side,. Hoping maybe Peter didn't hear it, but you lacked the knowledge of knowing Peter's secret abilities.

Either time froze or Peter was stuck in place for whatever reason (you were sure you knew) it was. Things seemed to have frozen around you, the people you were once aware of now gone, just you and your ex in this moment. And was it such a vulnerable one.

You watch as the boy's mouth fell open and closed, trying to conjure up something, anything to say at your sudden confession.

Your heart fell deeper into your stomach as the silence grew, you wished this time it wasn't so evident, the lack of ventilate from him bothering your head.

After a two minutes of silence Peter quickly gets up from his seat, grabbing his backpack and slinging it over his shoulder almost clumsily.

"I-, I havetogo, sorry." The boy swiftly says, stumbling over his words before nearly tripping over a few chairs.

You figured this wouldn't happen, which might have been ten times worst than him actually saying something in return.

You had wiped the falling tears from your face, the mirror in front of you mocking your actions, but no matter what, the wet substance from your eyes would still fall down a lot heavier.

You sniffled before exiting the bathroom, making a beeline to your bedroom, closing the door and cuddling up into the bed.

After your conversation (if you'd even call it that) with Peter at the library, the minute you got home, you were hit with a wave of saddness. You cried more than you did on your birthday, and now you wish you hadn't told your ex boyfriend you loved him, didn't matter anyway.

You were grateful your mom had a late shift tonight, you couldn't bare the thought of her seeing you at your worst, questioning why you were the way you were. You lacked to even tell the woman you and Peter were no longer dating. You figured you'd wait a few weeks then drop the bomb on her, hopefully she'd spare Peter, but given her personality, you truly doubt it.

The crying hadn't really stopped, so when your face hit your soft pillows and more tears that got more intense as the night went on, you weren't all that surprised.

What did surprised you was the obsessive knocking at your bedroom window.

You didn't bother to wipe your tears when you sat up from your bed, aiming your direction at the window, furrowing your eyebrows in confusion when you saw your neighbourhood superhero instead of some sort of bird.

"Spider-Man?" You questioned bewilderedly as you approach your bedroom window, opening it from its handle.

You knew of him from the news, and it was really shocking to you that him of all people were here at your window at something at night for whatever the reason was.

"What are you doing here?" You ask him again, watching the hero crouch on the railing of your fire escape.

"Believe it or not but I heard you..." He says steadily, and you rose an eyebrow at him.

"Not that I was you know listening or anything, but I was near by and my senses can pick up things from far away." Spider-Man quickly says, holding out a hand in defence.

"Oh." You say, tilting your head as you wiped your tears.

"Seemed like a damsel in distress sort of thing..." He trailed off, expectingly waiting for your response.

You had no reason to tell this stranger your secrets, you both knew that, but something inside of you wanted to. You hadn't even known the hero for five seconds and yet you were ready to tell him your deepest darkest confessions.

"It's nothing." You settled for, having some moral ground.

"Sad movie?" Spider-Man suggested.

"Yeah." You nod, sniffling a bit.

Maybe he thought you were in some sort of trouble, but the more you thought about it the less sense it made to to tell a stranger about your conversation with your ex at a public library.

What advice could he possible give that would make you feel better? You don't know if he's ever even gone through something like that.

"Oh, well hope you feel better." Spider-Man offered. "Just doing my part of the 'friendly neighbourhood' motto." He adds, making you chuckle.

"Thanks." You smile.

You couldn't pin point it, but he seemed oddly familiar, maybe it was because he was so nice to you after your horrible day, week even, but you really appreciated his kind gesture.

"I-" He started, unravelling himself from his crouching position to stand on your fire escape.

"Y/N." Spider-Man says, and your eyes widen marginally.

Had you told him your name? You couldn't remember, but never the less even if you didn't, you wondered how he knew in the first place. Maybe you slipped it out from habit or he was some stalker type of hero.

The hero seemed to have noticed your confused state, the vigilante quickly ripping off his mask to try and calm your nerves, but you recognize his face all too well, instinctively going to shut the window, but unfortunately for your his senses way too quick for yours, his strength inhumane.

"Wait!" Peter cried out as you still tried to close the window but to no avail.

Peter easily slides the window up, causing you to let go repulsively, backing up from it as he slowly climbed in.

Every bone in your body was telling you to run, but where would you go, who would you tell? Now you never would tell anyone about your ex being the Queens superhero, but you don't think you can bare having this secret known to you so suddenly.

Peter being Spider-Man is a surprise, of course, and him using his alter ego just to talk to you in some sense after quite literally running away from your confession was making your mind fuzzy to say the least.

You started to shake your head for no particular reason, watching the boy close your window before turning back to you, his hair wild most likely from the mask, and a evident pout on his face.

"You-, you love me?" Peter asked, his voice cracking.

You couldn't conjure up the right words, your mind blank with empty thoughts. It was still shocking to you that Peter of all people was the spiderling you only ever seen on the news.

You never paid much attention to Spider-Man, and if you did, you'd probably would have figured out that Peter was him if you connected the dots properly.

"Y/N, please answer me." He pleaded, breaking you from your train of thoughts. You were sure you looked like a deer caught in headlights at this point.

"I don't know..." You whispered, fiddling with with your fingers as sweat trickled down your forehead.

"But at the library you said-" Peter starts.

"I know what I said." You tell him, meeting his brown eyed gaze.

You blinked back tears, Peter approaching your figure, and you would had backed up to get away from him but you were stuck in-between him and the bed. Fortunately he placed his mask on top of your bed, releasing it from his brutal grip, you two now in close distance.

You were getting deja vu, the boy staring at your face, perfecting every angle he could before closing his eyes and exhaling a breath he had been holding in.

"You really shouldn't had told me that." He whispered, and you bit your bottom lip, nervously nibbling on it.

Peter reopens his eyes, greeting you with the honey colour you were familiar with, his pupils getting smaller as it adjusted to the light, you felt bad for the sad expression that was held on his face.

He slowly brings a hand up to your face, wiping a tear that had unknowingly fallen down your face before pushing some of your hair behind your right ear.

It's been a long time since he's showed you this kind of affirmation, the last time he ever did something remotely similar was the time he had broken up with you. You had no clue what he was thinking, was he going to kiss you, or scold at you for expressing your love for him when he clearly loved another? The possibilities were endless like the ocean, and so you wished he'd only say his motive so your anxiety wasn't so obvious.

Peter's eyes dip to your lips before glancing back to your eyes, him silently asking for permission. You give the boy a nod as your answer, mirroring his actions when he closes his eyes and leans in.

#peter parker imagine #peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x you #peter parker angst

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petr1kov · 8 months

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simon misses and will forever miss betty for the straightforward reason of her being the love of his life, yes, but i do think that the main reason as to why he's clinging to her so desperately and is unable to move on from what happened to her is because he feels she is the only person he could ever truly confide in, who would understand his pain completely and still love him back.

like let's be real, everyone on the show thus far has had some pretty abhorrent reactions to simon's depression and trauma and grief over betty whenever it was brought up, ranging from the well meaning attempts of helping him cope through distraction of finn to almost everyone else saying he's just boring and sad now and that they miss the fun 'old him'. either way, it all boils down to 'shut up and get over it'. it's no wonder that he longs to be with the one person who he knows full well that loves him for the real him, not his ice king persona, and who would take his issues seriously.

#fionna and cake #at #simon petrikov #fionna and cake spoilers

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hms-no-fun · 7 months

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so, (SPOILERS FOR FIONNA AND CAKE but its relevant to the question but im gonna put a bunch of line breaks just in case lol)

so fionna and cake ended with fionna basically being like, you know, youre RIGHT god, if magic came back my wish would simply be twisted and it would suck, there will be no rule breaking miracles! I will now work as a struggling minimum wage employee in seattle and Be Happy about it. i sure am glad the threat of losing everyone i know and love set me straight!! sorry to send u this really random thing the ending just felt like such a slap in the face and i wanted to ask someone who knows that exact Seattle Struggle. this is absolutely me appealing to the Writing Gods to back me up that the ending wasnt very good lmao but if i have a direct line to the craftsgoat i simply must use it for something stupid at least once

FULL SERIES SPOILERS FOR FIONNA & CAKE AFTER THE BREAK!!!

i really disagree with your read on the ending. it didn't feel like "just struggle with seattle minimum wage forever and be happy about it" at all to me! the whole instigating incident was that fionna wanted to transform reality into something that she personally thought would be better, without taking into account the fact that other people exist and have internal lives just as complex as hers. she comes back to her original world to find marshall and gary holding hands, explains to them the magical adventure she's been on and the fact that their world is about to transform into something unrecognizably magical, and they receive this with abject horror! fionna doesn't know whether simon becoming ice king again will erase marhsall & gary's burgeoning relationship, which makes her realize that in her quest to escape the boring, oppressive reality of working odd jobs to make ends meet, she's only ever focused that energy on how to make things better for her.

i really want to dig into this because it's a key theme of the show. there is a destructive selfishness innate to the "heroes" of this universe, who feel entitled to the joyous empowerment of being able to defeat anyone and everyone they see in open combat. cake has a whole musical number about this! simon's arc in the last two episodes was betty grabbing him and shaking him until he finally asked himself, how would my life have been different if i'd just once let the woman i loved steer the ship for a while? and then of course we see the lich in a reality where he succeeded in eradicating all life, only to find himself desiccated and without purpose, begging the god of chaos for an answer it cannot give. brian david gilbert's ice prince seems perfectly put together and successful, until the reveal that he's outsourced his madness to someone who didn't accept the terms of the crown's curse. this didn't solve the fundamental problem, it just inverted the roles of its expression by making princess bubblegum into the mad candy queen. nothing about the status quo has changed, simon has simply given himself a more dignified role in it.

this is a story about what happens when people in struggle behave as though they are the protagonist of reality. when fionna says "this is the world i want to fight for" she's not fighting for the right to get another shitty minimum wage job. i think you've really missed something by accepting that conclusion when cake the cat is right there saying that her magical self IS the version of herself she wants to live as. being a normal house cat for her was, arguably, a form of body dysmorphia, and the show lets her keep that magic at the end! the thing is, their world IS changed by the events of the show! the status quo is altered!

like, what do we actually see everyone DOING when the credits approach? we see this entire disconnected community banding together to rebuild the city together, and we see a huge crowd of protesters outside marshall's mom's place demanding that she lower rents. we see people connecting with other people, including three outcasts from other universes escaping to this more boring one for their own safety. i loved this ending honestly, because it felt to me like an attempted refutation of the very idea that you can magically transform reality into something better overnight. if fionna'd gotten her original wish and made her world into, like, candy world, then... what? let's say they play it as like, at last people are freed from the shackles of capitalism and everyone just gets to be weird funky critters going on adventures or whatever. what would that, as art, actually say? what would that mean to us in the real world? if we're going into this cartoon looking for some kind of revolutionary energy (which IS present in the text, much to its credit), what actionable or symbolically resonant message are we supposed to take from a story that resolves its problems with magic? at that point, it ceases to be relevant as anything more than pure fantasy, because it has abandoned any connection to the material reality WE are trapped in.

i don't want to magically transform the world overnight. this whole show goes out of its way to explore how trying to transform the world overnight, in a world where such a thing is possible, is a really fucking bad idea for a whole host of reasons. regardless, such things aren't possible in our world. so going into the finale, my worry was that they WOULD turn fionna's world into another candy world and just say, ah, the revolution is when you think the right things so hard that the material plane bends to your will.

that's neoliberal thinking. that's like the essence of the failed leftist project of the "end of history" era from the 90s onwards, when marxism was systematically rooted out of academic cultural analysis and replaced with the delusion that if you can just get people thinking the right things, you can affect change in the world. well here we are, it's 2023 and all that magical thinking has got us is a world on fire and a civilization of human beings so thoroughly disempowered that they would literally rather pretend to be a tortured anime protagonist than exist in this boring, shitty, violent reality. you can't think your way out of oppression. raising labor consciousness is, at best, step one. you want to know why unions are winning big right now when they've been completely useless in this country for decades? it's because they've stopped giving a shit about optics they can't control and remembered that the boss's value does not exist without labor. you do not necessarily need marxism for this, marxism is simply the most accurate articulation of the fact that workers who make the things a capitalist sells can kneecap the capitalist by refusing to make the things they want to sell. change doesn't happen with the publishing of a book or whatever, it happens when enough people in real life press their material demands hard enough that someone in charge is left no choice but to listen.

so for me, fionna & cake ending the way it did was a huge relief, because it wasn't espousing magical thinking. the solution to fionna's ennui and economic anxiety was not to just get another job and be happy to live in the world as it was-- it was to create a sense of shared community and struggle, uniting the not-seattleites in their survival of a near-apocalypse and using it as a jumping off point for fundamentally transforming the state of that world as it exists. fionna had to realize that her problems are everyone's problems, and that making her life personally better at the expense of everyone else's agency is just an act of kicking the can of responsibility down the road indefinitely. no one who gets their wish in this show is happy to have gotten it, or avoids punishing others who didn't ask to be involved.

the "canonization" of fionna & cake felt like a reaction to the idea that we in our world are permanently isolated from the fictional realities we create where change seems to come so easy, and the powerlessness that can engender. instead this show is saying, okay, let's say we are in continuity with these fantastical realities. what do we actually DO with that? how do we make this world more fun, more interesting, more fulfilling for everyone to live in? the answer is the same as it's always been, and no other answer would ever feel satisfying: you do it by organizing the workers against the current arrangement of the state with the explicit goal of transforming it for the better.

what does simon do at the end when he gives fionna her world to her? he says that no one person should have that responsibility, that it's been in one person's hands for too long. so he gives it to her in the form of a dandelion, whose blown seeds merge with and become part of everyone trying to survive the scarab's attack. the idea here is that while no single person ever possesses the power to transform the world on their own, the world itself belongs to all of us, and it is within our power to transform it together. those who hoard power want us to believe that this is not the case precisely because the basis of their power is fraudulent and maintained through the violence of the state.

as someone who does live in seattle for better and worse, as much as i do wish i could make literally anything better right the fuck now by whatever means necessary... the fact is i can't. and it does no one any good to labor under the assumption that i or any other individual has that kind of absolute transformative power. the solutions are all right there, and they are simple, materialist propositions whose only difficulty lies in how successfully we've been propagandized to think that the individual is God, or at least speaks on His behalf. there's no thinking our way out of this pickle, and no one's gonna do the hard work for us.

as to the question of how you actually get people in real life to get together and do all that hard work... well, personally i think it's unfair to ask a 10 episode cartoon show to give you any kind of actionable advice on that front. i might even go so far as to say that such an expectation is an expression of the very same magical thinking which the show tries to push back against! in any case i liked it quite a lot and i hope this rambling answer encourages you to revisit the show and reconsider some of your takeaways

#sarahposts #fionna and cake #adventure time #spoilers #fionna and cake spoilers

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ultimate-blorbo-collector · 8 months

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Winter King and a Scientist or Engineer S/O

This semester is so hard, and my way of coping is pretending someone is proud of me./j

Warnings: None!

Writing pure fluff almost never happens, but I have an angsty idea for later. :3

His situation with Betty is weird for sure. He’s not grieving her since he’s put all of that on Bubblegum along with the madness. He can't help but feel a little warmly toward you because of your similarities to Betty though.

At the same time, he can’t place that it’s because you’re similar to Betty. All he knows is that everything you do is just so charming.

The way you come to him for help with problems, and the way you help him. The different perspective you have that is just so great for problem and puzzle solving. The little bit of Simon that’s still in there loves it.

When you ask to use his lab, he’s unbelievably giddy. He gets visitors all the time, but it’s you! He wants nothing more than to dote on, spoil, and impress you, and every time you visit is another opportunity.

Also, while he won’t admit it, he gets a little bored in his perfect little kingdom. A few problems every once in a while is what he needs.

He brushes up on whatever it is you might need, and he finds every relevant book in his library that he can.

The Winter Kingdom has so many resources for you, and he’d love nothing more than to show all of them for you.

When he was Simon, he was purely an artifact researcher, but he’s happy to learn and help you with whatever you need.

Even though he has a lab and is meant to parallel our version of Princess Bubblegum, he is kind of bad at math. Don’t bring him a complicated integral. If you can’t do it, don’t expect him to.

If he gets a different answer than you on anything math-related, he’ll assume you’re right.

He encourages you to use his lab as well. If you needed to test anything, he is right there helping you along with some ice people.

Experiments are so fun for him. He’s awful with data, but he loves setting up experiments, giving you whatever you need, and doing the actual experiment with you.

Please tell him what you found. Even if the data is inconclusive, he’ll say something like, “That just means we have to do more, don’t we?”

And if you have interesting findings, he could hear you talk about it all day long!

He also loves to celebrate if you find something interesting. Everyone in Ooo is going to hear about whatever your experiment was about.

He loves pampering you just for coming to visit, but when you come to visit and you’ve made some kind of discovery or revelation, expect something special.

On the other hand, if you’re frustrated, he’ll do whatever he can to relax you and cheer you up. Everything is on the table: comfort, food, dates, gifts, music, and anything else that could possibly help.

This one is a given, I think, but if he has to carry you away from your work, he will. Coming back to your work later is important . He wants you to go do something fun with him and forget about your work for just a moment.

He obviously wants to spend time with you and do fun stuff with you for sure, but he also doesn’t want you to burn out or get frustrated. You work too hard for that.

He does think you falling asleep in his lab is cute though. He has a cozy bed prepared somewhere in the castle just in case.

#winter king #Winter King x reader #Winter king headcanon

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mayariviolet · 2 months

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Random AOT Headcanons - Modern AU

(ft. Eren, Connie, Sasha, and Jean)

summary: Stuff I couldn’t formulate into a coherent or long enough post. Kinda fluff? I just want them to be happy tbh🥺.

a/n: Mostly character traits for my fic temperance! 👀 But honestly, this is how I picture them in general. I’ve been missing my own story lately (even though I’m literally responsible for writing it💀).

Eren:

Addicted to those shitty mobile games. He’ll turn on airplane mode just so he doesn’t get stupid pop-up ads.

Since he’s an avid mobile gamer, if he’s out of whatever resource he needs, he’ll pay that $2.99 for a ‘booster pack’ or whatever.

Hates cilantro. Despises it. He gets lowkey mad when he sees it on his plate💀

Has those ‘Ken’-like senses whenever Mikasa needs him. He will drop whatever he is doing to save his girl!

If Mikasa is shopping at Aritzia- Eren will probably chill on the boyfriend couches or play with the arcade machine. Like I said before, since he has those ‘Ken’-like senses, he’ll immediately stop whatever he’s doing for Mikasa (she’s perfectly fine and just dropped her chapstick).

Listens to anything Metro Boomin produces. Also, listens to Mitski (Class of 2013 fs).

Connie:

His ringtone is ‘Gucci Flip Flops’ by Bhad Baby. It started off ironic just so he could piss Eren and Jean off, but he’s now one of her biggest stans.

He won’t stop playing ‘Gucci Flip Flops’ (while he’s in the shower, getting ready, cooking, etc.) to the point where Eren and Jean have threatened to evict him. Connie says they’re “Silencing female musicians” and continues playing the song.

HE IS A HOT GIRL! HE LOVES MEGAN THEE STALLION!

Likes to wear beanies in the winter.

Adds extra marshmallows in his hot chocolate☕️.

Has an extensive shoe collection (mainly Jordan’s).

Posts those: ‘Show younger you or a bad [insert month]’ templates on Instagram. (He genuinely believes that not posting it will curse him).

Sasha:

Avid Google Maps user. Only to find really good hole-in-the-wall restaurants, though.

Writes restaurant reviews on Google Maps for fun.

Gets mad when said restaurants become popular (my sister in Christ- you wrote the reviews telling people to go there…)

Her favourite music consists of Fleetwood Mac, TWICE, New Jeans and old country/blues.

She cries over those little Korean baby variety shows whenever she gets them on her for you page.

Always carries a packet of ketchup and hot sauce in her wallet.

She gets those ‘This was meant for you’ tarot card readings on TikTok and watches all the way through.

Sends those OBSCENE emoji chain mail text messages to Connie and Jean because it’s funny.

Jean:

Posts gym photos like a harlot.

Sends Connie those ‘Post younger you or bad month’ templates because it’s funny to see him get flustered…

He really likes pop-punk music and one direction (I don’t make the rules).

One time, he walked in on Connie and Sasha watching Ru Paul’s drag race, and he was being such a little shit disturber about it. Until he realized four hours had passed and he was already watching the Queens getting fitted for their final looks.

Rise and Grind- Chicken, rice and unseasoned broccoli mf… Until he got bored of prepping the same meals. He’s become a better cook because of it!

He and Connie love getting high and fucking around while baking those Betty Crocker cake mixes (funfetti or chocolate).

Jean’s favourite movie is The Big Short.

One time, he sat on a Nutella sandwich Connie left on the couch, and Eren accused him of shitting himself. Jean got so heated that they almost fist-fought until Armin had to mediate.

a/n: I’ve been procrastinating napping💀… I’m gonna do that now and work on my Geto fic… hehe…

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6rookie-writer0110 · 3 months

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Strange Lovers

Cheryl Blossom X Male Reader.

Request - Hello can you Write Cheryl Blossom X Male Reader. The reader was the great criminal leader of the Yakuzas in Japan, arriving in Riverdale the reader sees that the Ghoulies try to hurt Cheryl but he saves her from all of them, and the two fall in love.

Cheryl met with her friends at Pop's Diner. She sits across from Betty and Veronica. They have been hearing rumors about the new guy moving to Riverdale. She has been hearing all kinds of rumors about the new guy, but she hasn't seen him just yet. But she is curious about how he looks and where he came from.

“Have you any of you have seen the new guy?” Cheryl asked.

“No. But Veronica has” Betty said.

“Really?” Cheryl said.

Veronica nods “I was having car trouble and he helped me. His name is Y/n and he helped me get into a mechanic shop”

“Is he cute?” Cheryl asked.

“I think he is cute and he does know how to dress,” Veronica said.

“He lives a few houses down from my house,” Veronica said.

They continue to talk about the new guy. Now, Cheryl is interested in meeting the new guy.

After spending time with Betty and Veronica, Cheryl left Pop’s diner. She noticed you and she walked towards you.

“So, you are the new guy that everyone can't stop talking about,” Cheryl said.

“And you are?” You asked.

“My name is Cheryl Blossom and here I Invented Red, I Am Red” Cheryl said.

“Interesting intro, Red,” You said.

“Why Riverdale?” Cheryl asked.

“Straight to the point, I see that you always take charge,” You said.

“Obviously. Just to let you know, I do what I want. What’s your name?” Cheryl said.

“My name is Y/n and that’s all you need to know,” You said.

You have a complicated past and did some bad stuff, but you want that to be private.

“I do have a habit of finding out about people’s past and among other stuff, Y/n,” Cheryl said.

“I’m not going to play little games with you because you are bored,” You said.

You walk away and she turns around.

“I will find out,” Cheryl said.

You didn't say anything and you went home. Cheryl did go home and she goes online to look for information about you. After almost an hour, she didn't find anything online. She knew that was strange because everyone had a digital trace. But she starts to think about how else to look up information on someone.

——-

People around have noticed your bodyguards. But you don't harass anyone or steal from them. But Robert Phillips aka Sugarman wanted to do a deal with you, buying and taking drugs to different towns. You said you will think about it. You wanted to make sure no one was on his trail.

Cheryl was determined to find out about your past. She even followed you around for the whole night but she didn't get a lot of information about you. She noticed how your bodyguards would take orders from you.

✬ ✯ ✫ ✬

One night, Cheryl starts to follow you. You went out and you stopped at a small bar. You noticed a car was following you and you parked the car. But you saw her get out of the car and before you could do anything, a group of guys started to harass Cheryl.

The Ghoulies surrounded her.

“Cheryl Blossom, you are on the wrong side of town,” Malachai said.

“Why don’t you and your hobo friends go take a shower and leave me alone” Cheryl said.

“Someone needs to teach you a lesson, bitch. No one disrespects me or my gang” Malachai said.

“Or what?” Cheryl said.

He grabbed her arm hard.

“We will teach you how to respect us,” Malachai said.

You get out of the car.

“Leave her alone now!” You yelled.

“Who is this your boyfriend?” Malachai asked.

“Step away before I make you cry,” You said.

“Go home, asshole this is between me and this bitch right here,” Malachai said.

“You talk too much for a little bitch” You said.

You put on your brass knuckles. Your bodyguards are behind you. Malachai runs towards you then you punch him in the face and he starts to bleed, you break his nose. You start to punch him in the face and the stomach, and then your bodyguards start to brutally beat up Malachai’s friends. She saw you throw Malachai onto the ground and you start to kick him hard in the stomach. Then you get down and start to punch him in the face, and he bleeds out fast. Some blood splatter on your face and shirt

“Who’s the bitch. Now” You angrily said.

You stand up and you wipe the blood off your face.

“Let’s go now,” You said.

“What about her?” He said.

“She is coming with us to make sure she isn't hurt then we take her home,” You said.

Cheryl is stunned and she did get in the car with you.

You took her to your house and you cleaned yourself up. Then you offered her a drink and she said no.

“Thank you,” Cheryl said.

You and Cheryl are alone, you sent your bodyguards home.

“Are you okay, I have a first aid kit” You said.

“I’m fine, Y/n,” Cheryl said.

“I know you were following me, why” You said.

“I wanted to know what you are hiding,” Cheryl said.

“Do you have to know everything?” You asked.

“Yes, I do,” Cheryl said.

You watch her look at the pictures hanging on the wall.

“Are you in the Yakuza?” Cheryl asked.

“What makes you think I am?” You said.

“All these men have tattoos up to their chest, wrists, and ankles. And you have samurai swords,” Cheryl said.

She saw a picture of you and the other Yakuza members. Even if she told the police, you would just pay them off. You already have some police officers working for you.

You have Japanese art, samurai swords, and Oni makes everywhere. She keeps staring at the items.

“I’m not going to answer that,” You said.

“I will take that as yes,” Cheryl said.

“I’m just a guy from Japan,” You said.

“Don’t take me as a fool” Cheryl said.

“I don’t,” You said.

She rolled her eyes at you.

——-

You kept your eye on Cheryl to be sure she was safe. The Ghoulies haven't harassed you or Cheryl. Malachai was so badly beaten that he had to stay in the hospital for two weeks.

“What made you leave Japan?” Cheryl asked.

“Many reasons, I am not going to bore you with,” You said.

“Now, why you are following me?” Cheryl asked.

“Making sure they won't harass you,” You said.

“If you wanted to go on a date you could have asked,” Cheryl said.

You couldn't help to smile.

“Okay, I will take you out on a date,” You said.

“Nowhere cheap,” Cheryl said.

“I won't take you anywhere cheap, promise,” You said.

✬ ✯ ✫ ✬

You and Cheryl made it official to be in a relationship. Everyone knows that you are her boyfriend and her parents don't like it. But she doesn't care what they think about it. You and Cheryl do open up to each other about everything. You did admit that you are in the yakuza but you know she won't tell anyone.

“Come here,” Cheryl said.

He is lying on your bed and she extends out her arms, and you lie on top of her. She wraps her arms around you and she kisses your head.

“Glad, you are here tonight,” You said.

You stare at her and she starts to smile. She kissed you on the lips and she started to smile.

“Sorry about earlier I had to take care of something,” You said.

“You just have to make it up to me, Y/n” Cheryl said.

“How?” You asked.

You lie on your back and she lies on her side, she places her hand on your chest. She kissed you again and you started to smile.

“You have to figure it out,” Cheryl said.

You start to kiss her and your hand is under her shirt. You never opened up to anyone before and she is the first. You don’t regret it and she feels the same way. When you are alone with her, she is very affectionate with you.

“I have a surprise for you,” You said.

“What?” Cheryl asked.

“Follow me,” You said.

She followed you to the other room and you opened the door. She walks in and she is in shock and you gently grab her hand.

“This is your art room. You will have everything that you need to draw or paint. You can come here anytime you want and just paint. This is why I had the door locked because I was getting everything ready” You said.

“This is amazing. Just wow, Y/n!” Cheryl smiled.

She turns around and she wraps her arms around you. She starts to kiss you passionately and she doesn't stop smiling.

“I’m going to show you how to paint,” Cheryl said.

“Okay,” You said.

You showed her the paint set and you took out the canvas for her. She is showing the basics of how to mix paint. Then she tells you to paint what you feel. You are starting to have fun with her and you never painted anything before.

#Cheryl Blossom x male reader #cheryl blossom x reader #cheryl blossom imagines #x male reader #male!reader #male reader #Cheryl Blossom fluff #riverdale imagine #riverdale x male reader

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