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#you didn't lose much with that absence of mine
catocappuccino · 24 days
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A pointless tumblr post titled
"Assigning furby colours (specifically 1st gen) to Murder Drones characters without giving any explaination for my choices" part 1
Uzi - juicy grape
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N - labrador
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V - banana peel
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J - bumblebee
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Cyn - angel
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🔥🔥🔥If you enjoyed this post leave a like and follow for more PEAK content like this🔥🔥🔥
/j
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astonmartinii · 8 months
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i don't wanna be funny anymore | daniel ricciardo social media au
pairing: daniel ricciardo x fem podcaster!reader
i don't wanna be funny anymore, i got a too short skirt, maybe i can be the cute one. is there room in the band? i don't need to be the front man, if not then i'll be the biggest fan
based on i don't wanna be funny anymore by lucy dacus (this song speaks to me, i love lucy (she's also AMAZING live))
MASTERLIST | TIPS
yourusername
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liked by danielricciardo, maxverstappen1 and 341,203 others
yourusername: hey girl hey, new ep coming at you fast this friday all about rotting. as the twilight weather rolls in and it becomes the season of all too well, we'll talk about rotting, how we can do it right and how not to lose your mind this october (a cautionary tale, i've already lost mine)
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user1: my queen hands down five stars already
user2: the bag is so real and the way i know it's a tote that does NOT stay on your shoulder
yourusername: it's the enchante tote, shameless plug for my man
danielricciardo: you singlehandedly sell out my totes every time baby
user3: not this actual fan erasure 🤨
user4: babe be real, she has a massive platform and there was a direct correlation between the first time she plugged a tote and the fact that they sold out that day you guys just love being mean
user5: i'm mean cause i don't want some leech taking credit for dan's hardwork and his fans?
user6: he fucking said it? you guys grasp at straws every time so try and justify your agenda against her
maxverstappen1: idk what rotting is but i'll still listen to every second
yourusername: thanks maxy, though i'd say going on the sim for up to 14 hours of the day is bordering on rotting
maxverstappen1: productive rotting !
yourusername: yes, i guess your sweet little treats are trophies?
maxverstappen1: that would make sense (don't tell my trainer but i do enjoy the little fruity drinks from starbucks)
user7: yall wanna say we're mean but she's literally invalidating max, saying he's rotting on the sim is so invalidating to everything he went through when he was younger
user8: how did we get there? this grasp on straws has to be studied... from a joke about the sim to invalidating abuse?
user9: i honestly thank the lord for dan and max because they're so supportive no matter the shitstorm that yall throw at y/n everyday
user10: literally max is even listening to podcasts... real friends, i hope one day she feels confident enough to come to races
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danielricciardo
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liked by maxverstappen, georgerussell63 and 1,034,239 others
tagged: yourusername, enchante
danielricciardo: buckle up, enchante is going to the rodeo 🐎
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user13: i shall be breaking the bank
user14: dan so smart, he looks like a good boyf for including y/n but didn't include her face
user15: yall ever listen to yourself talk, you need to be put in time out for real
yourusername: we all know the phrase, save a horse, ride a...
danielricciardo: daniel?
yourusername: YUP
user16: ugh there are children who are fans of daniel, she's so gross
user17: do you ever get tired of doing all of that mental gymnastics?
yourusername: can't wait for the tote drop for this collection, yall WON'T be disappointed
user18: yes, i will always trust mother's tote recommendations
user19: anyone who carries that much shit knows what makes a good tote
yourusername: this one has survived two dostoevsky book, an unreasonably large water bottle, a laptop and microphone
user19: thank you ma'am
maxverstappen1: real love is dressing as a cowgirl for your needy boyfriend
yourusername: the things we do for love (i actually had so much fun)
user20: here y/n goes doing all the publicity, but never going to races, clearest gold digger attention whore wag of all time
user21: surely a real attention whore would go to every race to get the screen time and papped and all that jazz?
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excerpt of y/n y/ln's podcast where she addresses her absences in the paddock.
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yourusername
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liked by danielricciardo, maxverstappen1 and 412,349 others
yourusername: life recently lol, the enchante tote is taking a beating
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user24: she's such a crybaby making dan use up an entire portion of his interview to coddle her
user25: she doesn't come to races cause of people like you invading her privacy and being rude and here you are ... proving her point
danielricciardo: pretty lady i can't wait to be back in your arms
yourusername: waiting outside the airport now
danielricciardo: we haven't even taken off yet babe
yourusername: i know i just miss you and can't wait to see your handsome face
user26: dan must be saying this shit at gun point cause there's no way he actually thinks she's pretty
user27: are you clinically blind? cause we must not be seeing the same girl
maxverstappen1: the aperol rawdogging the bag, you are SO brave
yourusername: living life on the edge, is this that thrill all you drivers talk about?
maxverstappen1: i may drive at over 200 kmh but i'd never risk my tote like that
yourusername: is it worse that i have a jar of olives in there as well, one drop and it's so over for me
maxverstappen1: OLIVES? remind me NOT to hug you when you pick us up
danielricciardo: if you want that hug you gonna have to get in line boy
user28: she picks them up from the airport? that's so cute
user29: someone tell her the gross girl aesthetic isn't cute
user30: babe don't worry no matter the aesthetic you have daniel will never want you x
maxverstappen1
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liked by charles_leclerc, christianhorner and 982,344 others
tagged: yourusername, danielricciardo
maxverstappen1: finally went on my bff's (no 1 in the world) podcast after i finally convinced her yall ain't shit - oh and dan was there for emotional support x
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user31: SO ICONIC
user32: ep on repeat forever, they're so funny
yourusername: for a man who hates podcasts, you were a star i think the memes hit you hard
maxverstappen1: i enjoy the PROFESSIONALS could you imagine doing a podcast with lando
landonorris: why am i catching strays
danielricciardo: i wouldn't say that too loud, i got about 20 texts as soon as you posted this demanding i ask y/n to be on the show
yourusername: oooooooooo the girls are fighting
landonorris: so can i come on?
yourusername: i'm sure we can schedule something
maxverstappen1: don't say i didn't warn you y/n
user33: ugh now she's going to whore around the rest of the grid
user34: for real wasn't dan enough? she's not even pretty enough to whore herself out
user35: you people have no reading comprehension cause you see how dan says yall are insane and yall keep proving him right
danielricciardo: i'm so proud of you pretty girl
yourusername: i love you cowboy
danielricciardo: forever obsessed with you
user36: i'm living for y/n basically telling all these insecure weirdos to fuck off
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yourusername
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liked by maxverstappen1, christianhorner and 603,451 others
tagged: danielricciardo
yourusername: who was gonna tell me these cars are loud as shit irl
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user39: someone tell sky to stop zooming in on her i don't pay to her her ugly ass
user40: cry your heart out bro everyone else is happy
danielricciardo: oops i think you're my lucky charm you now have to come to every race ever sorry not sorry
yourusername: gosh i think that might be true - i'll be there! (but for real you are so so talented and don't need a lucky charm)
danielricciardo: i'm just so happy to share this with you, i love you so much, i'm sorry people have been so cruel
yourusername: people are passionate about you and rightly so, but i appreciate you protecting me baby
user41: imagine being this irrelevant and demanding protection in the paddock ... the audacity
user42: you finally came to the paddock and this is what you wore?
user43: she's wearing danny merch? if she didn't yall would have a problem with that as well so please just be quiet
maxverstappen1: i need you to come every weekend cause you're the only one drunk danny will listen to
yourusername: we had practice with all the wine tasting we did for his wine line
danielricciardo: i am NOT that bad
maxverstappen1: tbf it's usually him just crying about how much he loves you
yourusername: AWWWWWW (i also cry about how much i love you)
user44: gosh this is my favourite f1 couple
user45: hopefully now she has her dose of fame she'll fuck off
user46: HAVE A DAY OFF
danielricciardo
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liked by maxverstappen1, yourusername and 1,451,677 others
tagged: yourusername
danielricciardo: as we're nearing our two year anniversary i wanted to say a couple things. one. i love you so much. when you came into my life i was in a bad place and you truly taught me to love myself again and how to love my sport again. you're the most amazing woman ever, the kindest soul and the most beautiful girl ever. two. i am so thankful for the support i have, i do not allow the disrespect some have given y/n. you guys have no real perception of relationships between athletes and fans. you do not have the right to comment on y/n in the way you are. you take extremely low blow and have the gall to confront her in public as well. do not call yourself a fan of mine when you treat the people i love like this. my team will now begin to monitor comment sections and will seek to block and report accounts doing this. thank you and i love you y/n.
comments on this post are turned off.
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note: hope yall enjoyed!! i love danny and i saw the danny ric honky tonk this morning and had to write about him. i'd also had this idea for a while but didn't know who to write for lol. please listen to the song i love lucy so much and the song is so relatable xx
also anyone who has requested - i am working on them (but as per some questions in my asks, as for right now i do not write for footballers, if i become less disillusioned with the sport (thanks chelsea) this may change)
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justrustandstardust · 2 months
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it's established that gojo's blindfold is a hallmark of his character. it's understood that the blindfold keeps things out; however, i also think there's something to be said about how it also keeps things in. despite the fact that there's already a lot of discourse regarding his blindfold, i think there's more to it than meets the eye (or doesn't, in the case of gojo).
this is going to be somewhat of a long post, but i promise that if you stick around, the end will make the journey worth it.
(this analysis is the lovechild of mine and @chiarrara, whose sexy big brain sponsored this whole thing).
as a character, gojo is unknowable without his eyes. it's very much proposed that gojo is his eyes; he's even repeatedly referred to as "the six-eyes brat". he's the strongest, and his eyes embody that status/symbol/role in the narrative. his eyes and his character are so intertwined that they almost become the same thing.
we are repeatedly reminded of his eyes throughout the story; they are perhaps his most distinct and identifiable feature. when we're shown the progression of gojo's life from birth to adolescence, we only see his eyes.
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during this scene when toji is remebering him, he repeatedly refers to him as the "six-eyes brat". he is his eyes, and nothing else. that's the only thing that toji knows about him because to the jujutsu world, that's all he is.
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however, when he's a teenager, although his eyes are more present than we've ever seen them throughout the series, they're noticeably un-glorified. they're undeniably present but they're unremarkable.
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they're less symbols of his power and more what they are, which are just eyes. we see glimpses of his eyes so often that we almost forget that they're special, until he steps into his role as the strongest and reminds us of them.
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it's important to note that what sets the depiction of his eyes apart here (versus when he's an adult) is the presence of geto. if you comb through every single scene with geto in hidden inventory, you will find that gojo's eyes are not the focal point of his character. they're backgrounded features; his eyes are either half-hidden or entirely obscured by his shades, and they rarely glow.
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his eyes make themselves known when geto is absent, like during gojo's fight with toji. in these moments, he is the strongest, invariably leaving room for nothing else. the only exception to this rule is when he's carrying riko's body, in which his eyes glow when he toes the line between human nature and godlike power. if we understand his eyes to be conduits of his power, then their noticeable downplaying can be understood as gojo leaving behind his title as the strongest and stepping into his humanity.
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when geto breaks up with gojo, his eyes are not only uncovered, they're un-emphasized. they're perhaps the dullest we've ever seen them, and their distinct, eye-catching blue is swallowed by the whites surrounding his irises. his strength and power don't matter in this moment, and his eyes reflect that. when he's losing geto, he is not the strongest; he is purely gojo satoru.
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the emphasis on his eyes in his youth makes their absence in his adulthood even more stark. we rarely see his eyes now, and it's only in the direst of circumstances.
everyone is familiar with the dictum '"the eyes are the window to the soul", which is true: eyes let people see into us. however, they function both ways; like a two-way mirror, they also let us see the world. eyes let people look in, but they also let their beholder look out.
there's a reason gojo only put on the blindfold after geto left. why didn't he wear it from the start? why did he start wearing it at all? all the credit to @hijinks-n-lowjinks for their masterful analysis that inspired this idea, which is as follows:
"....Gojo wants nothing more than to leave the memory of Geto unscathed....There's still a part of Geto's memory that's untarnished if he keeps it private instead of exposing the depth of Geto's crimes to the students, and I think that's what he's clinging onto."
gojo wears the blindfold for two reasons: one, to keep people out, and two, to keep geto in.
in donning the blindfold, gojo seals geto in his mind and simultaneously seals himself off from the world. he holds geto inside of himself, rendering him (or gojo's construction of him) untouchable by anyone else. in order to achieve this, however, the practice necessitates that gojo keeps everyone else out, because they belong to a world without geto that gojo literally and figuratively refuses to see. the wall functions like eyes: twofold, both keeping in and keeping out.
geto can be understood as gojo's blindfold: he is the reason it exists and why gojo put it on the first place. the blindfold is an intractable element in how he (doesn't) navigate the world without geto, because geto's departure from his life catalyzed his withdrawal from the world, which is symbolized through the blindfold.
when geto was in his life, gojo let the world in because it had geto in it. after geto left, he wasn't there for gojo's eyes to find. the permanent blindfold operates like schrödinger's cat— instead of seeing a world without geto, gojo simply chooses to stop seeing.
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it's worth noting that the literal barrier pairs with the figurative barrier gojo puts up, which is in his disposition.
there's a reason that gojo's cocky, lighthearted persona comes out when he's wearing the blindfold. it's a figurative barrier that matches the literal one. like i said before, we only see his eyes in the direst of circumstances, and his goofy, cocksure demeanour is notably absent from these instances. i'm not saying it's fake, but the persona is a front, designed to keep people at a distance. he plays it up, and it feels even more distant because we can't see his eyes.
however, gojo isn't the only person with a barrier.
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after the breakup, we never see geto wear casual clothes. we always see him in his cult leader outfit, which is distinct and elaborate. geto knows it's a costume, evidenced by the way he even says it himself when someone asks why he's wearing the cult getup:
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we also see a notable shift in his persona, to a crazed and almost manic disposition that contrasts starkly with the gentle, kind nature he had in his youth. geto's literal barrier is found in his cult outfit, whereas his figurative one is in his disposition. although they present differently, gojo and geto's literal and figurative barriers mechanize the same modes of expression that seem to be at odds with one another.
gojo’s disposition is designed to counteract the loneliness that shapes his character (a loneliness that geto abetted in being his companion) and geto’s disposition is designed to push people away, because he decided no one could understand him (a role which was previously fulfilled by gojo).
gojo can read geto in a way that no one else can, and geto is gojo's counterpart in a way that no one else can be— they’re missing something only the other can provide and compensating with two dispositions at opposite ends of the emotional spectrum.
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when geto is dying, gojo drops the literal and figurative mask. he's almost unrecognizable; he's not laughing, he's not smiling, and he's not wearing the blindfold, because he doesn't need it anymore. the only person he wants to see, the only person he's ever wanted to see, is in front of him now.
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however, once again, he's not only one whose walls have come down.
geto drops the manic persona (although he retains the ideals) and he gently smiles in a way that's reminiscent of his youth. his cult leader outfit is also falling off, exposing him in more ways than one. he admits that he never had any hate for anyone at jujutsu tech, and in doing so, materializes the version of himself that lived in gojo's mind for a decade. that's why gojo doesn't bother with the blindfold; the geto in his mind and the geto in front of him are congruous and he's looking at the person he's been seeing inside his head all along.
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it's been established that we don't know what gojo says to geto. however, it is also absolutely key that we don't see gojo's eyes in this deeply intimate moment. his eyes, which are inextricably linked to his strength and his role. his eyes, which are the medium through which he limits his engagement with the world. his eyes, which he sealed after geto left and only brings out when he's tasked with fulfilling his role.
in this moment, he considers the question geto asked him during the breakup. "are you gojo satoru because you're the strongest? or are you the strongest because you're gojo satoru?"
and in shielding his eyes from us, gojo answers him.
"i'm gojo satoru because of you, suguru."
his eyes, as the windows to the soul and witnesses to the world, are looking at geto suguru not as the strongest but as gojo satoru, and they are meant for geto alone. yes, the eyes are the windows to the soul but they're also two-way mirror— gojo opens his eyes for geto to look into his soul because the material manifestation of his soul is dying in front of him right now. in baring his eyes, he bares his soul.
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before geto dies, we see him the same way gojo does. he seems bashful, almost shy, even mirthful; all traits that are antithetical to the crazed front he put up earlier. conversely, gojo is the most solemn we've ever seen him. in this moment, we see them both for who they really are, because they literally and figuratively only reveal themselves to each other.
after they part ways in shinjuku, geto and gojo embody the same barriers through identical mechanisms: fabric and persona. these barriers function to do the same thing, which is to keep people at a distance in order to leave space for the one person noticeably absent from their lives. it's very fitting that their walls come down as they meet for the last time, because the only people who could've torn them down are the same people for whom they put them up in the first place— nobody else but each other.
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heartfullofleeches · 4 months
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*slowly opens your closet door and hands you the rest of the chips I was eating in there*
What if. Reader kissed King's scars or traced over them n asked if shed tell them how she got em? I think scars are neat and I dunno about you but personally I'd love to know how she got em. Hope your day is well!
Not a scratch on her.
You distinctly remember the claws of your attacker digging into the exposed meat of the knight's bicep her armor failed to shield yet here there is no mark to prove it. The two of you sat in King's dressing room following the incident, and all the time it took you begging to pull her off them. You thought you'd be fine on your own for a little while without her - clearly word hasn't gotten around the casino that you belong to her just yet. After she checked you over and made sure you weren't hurt it was only fair of you to do the same, but once you scrubbed all that blood off her there really wasn't much else for you to take care of.
"Hm......"
King lifts her head from the pile of pillows you both lay on, dismayed by absence of your hands on her. "Everything okay over there? Seems like you got something on your mind."
"Just thinking.... You've got so many scars, but that other demon didn't even put a scratch on you ... Kinda curious why.."
"Oh, that? That was nothing.-" King sits up, pounding a fist against her chest as she rises. "Takes a lot more than a coward like that to put a dent on this body. Hell, my skin's thicker than the steel I throw on. The stories behind every single one of 'em could the tale of centuries."
"Really?.... Then do you think you could tell me how you got your scars? I actually think they're pretty neat, but I didn't know the right time to ask you about them."
The mountain of pillows crumbles under the heavy swish of King's tail. "Yea....course... we'd be here all week if I told you how I got them all, but I can start off with some of my favorites for now."
King removes her chestplate - gesturing for you to climb in her lap as she regroups the pillows beneath her. She leans back down as she takes your smaller hands in hers, placing them on her abdomen. It was almost impossible to tell where her skin began and the old wounds ended. She guides your fingers to a crescent shaped hole just below her left pec - right over her ribs.
"Feel that? Got that one during the first tournament I feared I might lose. Underestimated the little bastard due to their size - barely came up to my knee in this form, the fucker. Unfortunately for them, they got a little too confident and all it took for me to wipe the floor with that small fry was catching them once.
"Amazing...." Your trace your fingers over the scar, dipping your head until in range to place a soft kiss on her hardened skin. King flinches - tail threatening to foundation of the pillows again as it shoots up with her.
"Wha- Huh?!- The fuck was that?"
"Sorry... Was that not okay? I guess I should've asked before I did that."
King's used to people asking about her scars. She may have been asked to be been kissed once or twice, but that was often by drunken fans - not the little treasure she picked out for herself. You are aware she could snap you in half at any second? You most definitely did, and that she'd never put you in serious danger. Still, you being so careless around a beast like her has got feeling a rush that's incomparable to the surge she feels in battle.
"Nah...." King shifts her tail benath her legs to hide the excitement it gave away. "A warning might've been nice - but your boldness makes it kinda hot. I knew I picked the perfect person to call mine.... Let's move on."
King nudges your fingers further north over her heart to anotger oddly shaped scar over her heart. With three points it almost look like a crudely embroidered crown. "This one. Welcoming gift from the boss themselves. Should'a known not to underestimate that other demon after dealing with them, but they're such an airhead it's easy to forget they can take care of themselves just fine."
Again - you kiss the blemish, the dragon's heart hammering loudly in her chest you can feel its rumble from your lips. There's other's she'd like to show you, but it you're so willing to kiss all her marks....
"Hey, got another one I think you might like."
King lifts her helmet over her jaw - shadows pealing away to unveil the wide, branching scar starting from her lower lip to benath her chin. She grins to show off the extent of the injury, the skin of her lips splitting to reveal more of her gums the further her smile creeps up the side of her face.
"This one? First and only time an angel tried to mess with our staff. Something about some demon winning the soul of someone they were watching over in a gang of cards. Made a huge fuss, but it was nothing I couldn't handle. Scar I'm most proudest of."
You ghost your fingers along her jaw, smiling as she slides her large hand down your back. "Uh-huh.... Something tells me there's another reason you wanted to show me this one in particular..."
"Don't get too full of yourself... Heh, who am I kidding." Tossing her mask aside, King pulls you for a kiss - a loud, yet oddly polite banging on the door interrupting the happy moment.
"Ms.King? We are all very glad you have found someone you are willing to protect at any cause, but some guests have raised concerns about your displays of victory. Please stop stringing your prey up over the pool. This is the third time we've had to close it this month."
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pinchofhoney · 8 months
Note
Omg Dean Winchester x Reader (platonic) where Dean and Sam are on a hunt and maybe reader was kidnapped??? And when they save her, she just immediately gets attached to Dean? Like she can't leave his side and at first he's really annoyed but eventually gets used to it?
(Sorry for all of my platonic requests I just don't see enough of them 😅)
frozen fear
dean winchester x fem!reader
word count: 2.9k
warning: platonic relationship, mild swearing, one description may be disturbing to some readers, comfort
summary: Life has a way of humbling even the bravest, and it's not always a gentle lesson.
a/n: hello!! thank you so much for your request! i had a lot of fun working on it; while planning the plot i felt the same feeling i had when writing my little fiction stories before my disappearance and honestly i missed it a lot!! but, in the middle of writing, i realized that it escaped my attention that you wanted it to be just sam with dean on the hunt, so unfortunately the text i wrote will be a little different from your request:(( i'm so sorry, i hope you enjoy the story anyway!
pages that may interest you: masterlist ♡ taglist ♡ who i write for
taglist: @wolfmoonmusic @alexxavicry @one-sweet-gubler @lonelywitchv2
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gif is not mine, credit to @/justjensenanddean
You shifted onto your back, letting your tired eyes wander across the shadowy ceiling. The wall clock's relentless ticking concealed the time, but you were certain that sleep should have already claimed you by now. Resting in one of the motel's less-than-cozy beds, nestled near Telluride, Colorado, the room's silence was intermittently shattered by Dean's unrelenting snoring, which was pushing you to the brink of madness.
With a soft sigh, you raised yourself into a seated position, your hands cradling your tired face, a silent battle raging within you to resist the urge to suffocate Dean with a pillow. Your gaze darted to the sleeping Sam, then settled on Dean's back as he lay on his side.
You arrived in town alongside the Winchester brothers, ready to tackle a puzzling string of mountain disappearances. The circumstances surrounding the case remained a mystery to you, with the root cause still shrouded in uncertainty. Although you had your suspicions, you knew there was plenty of work ahead, and the prospect of a sleepless night didn't exactly lift your spirits.
You arched your head back, returning your gaze to the ceiling as another sigh escaped your lips. At last, you shifted your legs over the edge of the bed, rising to your feet. Your hand reached for one of the brothers' jackets, and with a simple motion, you exited the room. You hoped that a quick walk in the cold, fresh night air could make you sleepy. Maybe the wind will whip me into such a state that I'll lose my hearing and finally drift off to sleep, you thought slightly amused, looking for positives in this pathetic situation.
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The sun's faint morning rays began to seep through the curtains of the dimly lit motel room. Sam stirred in his bed, his sleep-laden eyes blinking open as he noticed the absence of a familiar presence beside him. He frowned and turned his head, only to find an empty bed where you had been resting just hours before.
Sam sat up abruptly, his heart racing as he scanned the room. Dean, who had been sprawled out in another bed, all this time snoring softly, was now roused by Sam's sudden movement. He blinked blearily, struggling to comprehend the situation.
“Dean!” Sam hissed urgently, his voice tinged with alarm. “Wake up! Y/N's gone!”
Dean sat up sluggishly, not entirely comprehending the commotion. As far as he was concerned, there was no need for alarm. Nobody had forcefully confined you to the room, so it seemed obvious to him that you had simply risen early for a morning stroll.
“Sam, relax,” Dean muttered, not quite grasping the gravity of the situation yet. “Y/N probably stepped out for breakfast or something. She'll be back.”
But as Sam's gaze darted around the room, he noticed something that heightened his unease. “Dean,” he said, his voice tinged with increasing concern, pointing at the empty hook where Dean's jacket should have been hanging.
Dean finally started to stir fully awake, glancing at the vacant hook, and then back at Sam. “Okay, so maybe Y/N took my jacket too. It's not a big deal.”
As Dean spoke, Sam's eyes fell upon something on the nightstand. It was your phone, usually never left behind. He grabbed it and held it up for Dean to see. “Dean, Y/N's phone is here,” Sam said with a sense of growing concern. “She wouldn't have gone anywhere without it.”
Dean's eyebrows furrowed as the realization set in. The absence of both you and your phone suddenly felt more ominous. “Alright, let's not jump to conclusions,” he said, though the unease in his voice was palpable. “We'll wait a little longer, but if she doesn't come back soon, we need to check things out and see if there's anything else strange going on.”
Tick.
Tock.
Tick.
Tock.
The rhythmic ticking of the wall clock served as a relentless reminder of time slipping away
Dean fought to keep his emotions in check, methodically going about his morning routine, from toothbrush to getting dressed. His emotions were simmering beneath the surface, but he was determined not to let them get the best of him.
Meanwhile, Sam perched at the table, your mobile phone resting prominently before him. His gaze remained fixed on the device, a glimmer of hope that you might soon breeze through the room door, bearing coffee and a bagel, filling the space with your familiar presence.
“It's a quarter past eight already,” Sam remarked, his eyes shifting to his brother. He leaned on the table, his fingers anxiously toying with the first signs of stubble on his chin. “We have no idea when she left,” he added with a touch of frustration.
Dean pondered the situation briefly, meeting Sam's gaze before letting out an exasperated huff. “Damn it,” he muttered under his breath, his annoyance clear in his expression and tone.
The mounting tension in the room finally propelled the brothers into action. Dean grabbed his flannel shirt, throwing it on, and Sam slipped your phone into his pocket before they headed toward the motel room door.
“We’ve got to figure out what’s going on,” Sam declared, his voice determined.
Dean nodded in agreement, his jaw set. “I swear I'm gonna fucking kill her if she's just making fun of us.”
As they prepared to leave, Sam hesitated for a moment, his hand hovering over the doorknob. He glanced back at the room, a glimmer of hope still flickering in his eyes. “Let's leave the door unlocked,” he said quietly, as much to reassure himself as Dean. “Just in case Y/N comes back.”
With that, they stepped out into the brisk morning, making quick strides in the direction of the parked Impala.
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You slowly regained consciousness, a disorienting haze clouding your senses. Your body ached with a piercing pain, and a strange, unpleasant feeling gnawed at you. Panic coursed through your veins as you tried to make sense of your surroundings.
It was pitch black, and you couldn't see a thing. The air was thick with a noxious stench that seemed to cling to your very skin. Your head throbbed with a dull ache, and you groaned, attempting to move, only to realize that your limbs were bound, and you couldn't feel solid ground beneath you.
Panic turned to terror as your hands met resistance above your head. You strained your neck, struggling to see what lay beyond you. And then, as your eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness, the horrifying truth revealed itself.
You were hanging from the ceiling, head down, alongside two other lifeless bodies. Their forms dangled grotesquely, and it was clear they had been here for some time, their lifeless eyes staring into nothingness.
The realization hit you like a sledgehammer. You were trapped in a Wendigo's cave, your own fate hanging precariously above you. Your heart pounded, and terror coursed through your veins as you fought to remain as still and silent as possible, praying that the creature responsible for this nightmare wouldn't return anytime soon.
As you pored over the Winchester brothers' father's journal, your suspicions honed in on the Wendigo as the likely culprit behind the recent disappearances. Still, you couldn't help but question the accuracy of your deduction. While it was true that the brothers had successfully hunted down one of these creatures before, encountering a Wendigo in Colorado felt like a rare occurrence, far from their usual hunting grounds.
There was no room for doubt now, but finding yourself on the potential victim list hardly allowed you to relish your accurate suspicions.
Your heart raced in your chest, its thunderous beats resonating in your ears like a drumroll of dread. The blood surged to your face, turning it into a stifling mask of heat and anxiety. What made it all the more unbearable was the uncertainty, not knowing how long you'd been hanging there or when the fiendish creature might return to its lair.
Straining your ears, you listened intently for any hint of the creature's reappearance, but the stifling silence held sway.
Then, a faint yet unmistakable sound reached your ears—a distant shuffle, accompanied by muffled voices. Hope surged within you as you recognized the voices. It was Sam and Dean.
Tears welled up in your eyes as their voices drew nearer, and you struggled to rein in the overwhelming rush of relief and joy. Their flashlights cast wavering beams that danced eerily on the cave walls as they advanced cautiously.
“Y/N?” Sam's voice reverberated through the cave, laced with concern.
You managed a weak response, your voice trembling with emotion. “Here!”
Their flashlights swept over you, illuminating your precarious predicament. A mixture of shock and unwavering determination twisted their faces as they took in the horrifying scene before them.
A wave of relief washed over you like a soothing tide as Sam and Dean hurried to your side. Sam swiftly sized up the situation, his nible fingers skillfully working to free you from your bindings. With each passing moment, the suffocating grip of fear and captivity began to loosen its hold.
Dean, standing guard with unwavering vigilance, maintained a watchful eye on the cave's entrance, ensuring that the Wendigo wouldn't return to catch you in a vulnerable moment. His weapon remained poised and ready
As Sam's efforts finally set you free, you were lowered gently to the cave floor. Weak and disoriented, you clung to him, finding solace in the reassuring presence of your friends amidst the foreboding darkness that had held you captive.
With you safely on the cave floor, Sam turned his attention to your well-being, his concern etched on his face. “Y/N, are you okay? Can you stand?”
You nodded weakly, your voice quivering from a mixture of exhaustion and unease. “I think so.”
In response, Dean allowed himself a small sigh of relief, his furrowed brow smoothing out somewhat. He turned his attention back to you, his worry palpable. “Can you fill us in, Y/N? We all went to bed in the motel room, and now you're hanging in this cave. What the heck happened?”
Balancing yourself with Sam's support, you drew in a steadying breath to calm your frazzled nerves. “I don't know, Dean,” you confessed, your voice laced with a mixture of fear and frustration. “Your snoring was so deafening that I was on the brink of committing a crime. I had to escape the room for some respite, and then... Then I woke up here, like this, with no idea how I ended up in this nightmare.”
The haunting memory of that heart-stopping moment lingered in the air, causing your eyes to brim with tears once more. It was at this very moment that the full weight of the situation began to sink in—what might have befallen you, the chilling possibility of ending up like the lifeless body you had been hanging beside just moments ago.
As you gazed upon the concerned expressions of the men, the urge to reassure them that you were alright welled up within you. You only needed a little time to collect yourself. However, something beyond their shoulders seized your attention with a grip far stronger.
Your eyes widened in sheer terror, and your heart raced, momentarily clouding your thoughts with a hazy fog of panic. It took you a precious moment to summon the words, but finally, your voice found a way past your constricted vocal cords. “D-Dean!” you exclaimed with a raised voice, your trembling finger pointing emphatically toward the gaping maw of the cave entrance.
Your panicked cry pierced the cave's silence, and the Winchester brothers pivoted toward the cave entrance, their expressions shifting from concern to sheer determination.
Before your eyes, the Wendigo emerged from the shadows, its grotesque form illuminated by the flickering light of Sam and Dean's flashlights. The monster snarled, a chilling, otherworldly sound that sent shivers down your spine.
Sam and Dean wasted no time. With a practiced synchronicity born from years of hunting, they unleashed a torrent of fire upon the creature. Flames danced and crackled in the cave's depths, casting unnatural, shifting shadows.
The Wendigo roared in agony as the flames consumed it, its monstrous form writhing in torment. The stench of burning flesh and the creature's wails filled the cave, creating a nightmarish tableau of desperation.
You wanted to do something, to help the Winchesters in some way, but fear paralyzed you. You'd encountered countless demons, monsters, and shapeshifters in the past, but facing this particular breed of creature was an entirely unprecedented experience for you.
As the Wendigo was consumed by the flames, its otherworldly shrieks reached a deafening crescendo before being abruptly silenced. The once-terrifying monster was now nothing more than a pile of smoldering ashes, its threat extinguished by the relentless fire.
Sam and Dean turned to you, their expressions now radiant with a mixture of exhaustion and relief. Sam extended a hand toward you, his eyes filled with understanding. “Come on, Y/N, let's get out of here.”
You nodded, your throat still tight with the remnants of fear, and took Sam's hand as he helped you to your feet. Dean followed, his grip firm on your shoulder, offering silent support.
The three of you made your way out of the cave, stepping back into the cool night air of the Colorado woods. The moon cast a pale, comforting glow upon the landscape, a stark contrast to the horrors you had just faced.
As you reached the Impala parked nearby the forest, Dean spoke, his voice tinged with weariness. “We'll head back to the motel, Y/N. You need some rest.”
Sam nodded in agreement as he opened the car door for you. “And a hot shower wouldn't hurt either.”
You climbed into the car, the leather seats offering a welcome comfort. Dean took the driver's seat, and Sam settled in beside you.
The engine roared to life, and as the Impala rumbled down the winding forest road, Sam turned to you with a small, reassuring smile. “You did great back there, Y/N. We've got your back.”
The only source of comfort during this terrible ordeal was Dean's jacket, now worn and stained. It still clung to your shoulders, providing a bit of solace. You folded your arms across your chest, embracing the jacket's familiar warmth as if it was a security blanket. Taking a deep breath, you tried to reassure yourself that the nightmare was over and you were now safe.
Recent events had shattered your belief in your own fearlessness, exposing the simple truth that you had a long way to go before you could match Sam and Dean's hunting prowess. Yet, uncertainty gnawed at you, making you question whether you were truly prepared to reach their level of expertise.
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Weeks drifted by, and the memories of the Wendigo's cave continued to haunt your every waking moment. Anxiety had taken root deep within you, coiling around your thoughts like a relentless serpent. To cope, you found solace in staying as close to Dean Winchester as possible, as if his presence alone could shield you from the lingering horrors.
However, this newfound need for constant presence began to grate on Dean's nerves. He valued his personal space and independence, and your persistent closeness was beginning to wear on him.
One evening, as you shadowed his every move in the bunker, Dean couldn't help but voice his frustration. “Y/N,” he began, his tone laced with irritation, “I appreciate you being cautious, but you don't have to be glued to my side every second.”
Your eyes widened, and you stammered a response, “I-I'm just trying to be safe, Dean. You know, in case something happens again.”
Dean sighed, his irritation softening into understanding as he looked at you. He leaned in closer, his voice gentle but firm. “Y/N, I know you're scared, and it's okay to be cautious. But you have to remember, we're hunters. Our lives are filled with risks, and we've faced worse than that Wendigo together.”
He continued, his eyes locking onto yours, “You're safe now. I won't let anything happen to you, but you also have to take care of yourself. Being a hunter means facing fear head-on, and sometimes that means standing on your own two feet.”
You nodded slowly, the weight of his words sinking in. Dean was right; you couldn't let fear rule your life forever.
With Dean's words echoing in your mind, you began to make a conscious effort to rely on yourself more. There were moments when you found the courage to try out on your own, even if it was just for a short while, to confront the remnants of your fear. Gradually, you felt a glimmer of your old, independent self resurfacing.
But there were still times when the weight of anxiety bore down on you, and in those moments, you sought solace in Dean's presence. You found comfort in his unwavering support and understanding. He noticed your struggles and approached them with patience and acceptance.
Instead of pushing you away when you clung to him, Dean embraced your need for reassurance. He let you lean on him when the anxiety became overwhelming, understanding that healing was a gradual process. Whether it was a reassuring word, a comforting touch, or simply his silent presence, Dean was there for you.
You both found a balance. You were getting better at facing your fears, and Dean was getting better at being there when you needed support.
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cleabellanov · 2 months
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Jet-Skiing through identity: A deep dive into Mobius M. Mobius (part 4)🛥️
"And I'm yours but you're not mine" (Say Don't Go)
That's Mobius in season 1, because from all we know, he was the one to fall first. A fall that, just like domino pieces, results in a beautiful union of...well, everything.
But now, in season 2, his love is finally reciprocated. He showed Loki something they hadn't seen in themselves. And not only he loved them, but proved to Loki why they're deserving of that love as well. And now that he is finally appreciated and seen by the last person he was expecting, he also gets the insight he never knew he was looking for. This is like always running from something right into the chasm, until someone takes your hand and makes you stop. Even if it means facing your fears.
Open first episode of season 2, when the entire Loki legion was on the verge of a heart attack waiting to see what will happen. (That's actually me, I think I'm not alone). Those were crazy times indeed. Now, to our Mobius: a relative present version of him, not the one that didn't recognize Loki. That was scary. His first line is:
<<Hey, everything you've been doing is wrong, and all your gods are dead. How are people gonna take that?>>
I interpret this as his own thoughts and feelings projected on the collective. It's true for them, but it's relatable to Mobius.
And after all, why would everyone at the TVA believe all this time? The same reason as why we do it: we want to: that's where it all starts. And for someone like Mobius, who didn't believe in himself, it was much more logical to believe in the time gods. Putting the blame on fate takes the burden off your shoulders. But no burden, no glory. Few of them had guts to admit. But even indirectly, Mobius did (and has been for a while).
Backing the argument that he cares about Loki, and that he fell first, his reaction to hearing his name from Casey is immaculate.
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He immediately tries to figure out a way to locate him. He might take a more "slow, deliberate approach", but not when he knows people he cares about are in danger. Not when he can still help.
Then, to X-5's attempt to make him feel bad about his spot on the original timeline, he responds with a neutral approach, not letting such things get to him. He even goes to explaining why jet-skis are so cool. This is something that shows how passionate Mobius can be about the things he likes. I don't think he would do this if he wouldn't be provoked in some sort of way, because the total absence of interest from others can kill a spark pretty quick. But he doesn't let it go just because no one around him sees jet-skis as important as he does. I love him for it.
His pure care for Loki and the way he comforts them the best he can is also very important in this episode. Mobius does his best to calm Loki down, trying to see the situation from an outside point of view so it can be solved efficiently. He's there, he doesn't let Loki down, and we know he would never; "Okay, you wanted time to think, so let's think." - as in let's think together, you're not alone.
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Also, when Loki rushes to find Sylvie so they can fix what is happening, Mobius slows him down. He knows Loki wouldn't take the time to take care of themselves, so he does it for him, knowing exactly how much to insist, and that the timeslipping can't be let out if control for a long while.
Another trait resulting from the episode is sort of a disapproval avoidance, from the convo with O.B. Mobius obviously had his memory wiped and doesn't remember him, but doesn't admit it: it could hurt this nice guy and make him look like a fool (it wouldn't, really. he didn't have to worry abt it).
Then, at the end of the episode, this care (LOVE!!!) he carries for Loki is once again is highlighted:
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Because, even at the risk of losing his skin (and, jokes aside, losing his life), Mobius still waits over the limit for Loki to make it back. What was I saying about believing? Even if the gods of the TVA are dead, the God of Mischief isn't. And Mobius always believed in him.
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allmoshnobrain · 4 months
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𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐫
✧・゚: *✧・゚:* *:・゚✧*:・゚✧
part 29 of 35 | masterpost
word count: 2563 | ao3 link | fic's playlist
I wasn't ready for any of that. The wounds from losing Dave were still too raw, to the point that acknowledging the desire I felt for James made my heart tighten with regret. What the hell was I thinking? I'd chosen Dave. And yet, he’d left me. What I wanted didn't mean shit in changing anything. How could I want anything from James when the very feeling I had for him had wrecked everything I held dear?
✦ summary: After reuniting with her friends, Nore is compelled to confront the conflicting feelings she still harbors for James.
✦ on this chapter: dave mustaine x female!oc, james hetfield x female! oc, oc is cliff's cousin, +18, language, slice of life, angst, love triangle
✦ a/n: Hello! I've talked about this previously on my blog, but as we're headed into the last stretch of the story, I would like everyone to know: while the next few chapters are gonna dive into James and Nore's feelings a bit more, Dave will be back! His story with Nore isn't over yet. Also, we'll have an epilogue that is still on the works. I've wrapped up the main part of the story and I'm hosting a poll to see if you guys prefer I keep posting new chapters once a week or if you're up for me posting them twice a week. If anyone wants to vote, here's the link. Hope you enjoyed the read, any feedback is welcome! 🖤
✧ There's something hanging in the air, I won't say shit 'cause I'm too scared / I'll just pretend we're two lovers not destroying each other / And you don't want me to go, and I just can't say no ✧
I met with Cliff and the guys at Los Angeles airport a few days later. I have to admit, the idea of reuniting with my friends after all those weeks left me a bit on edge, and not fully in a good way. However, catching up with Cliff and Leanne, and then with Kirk and Lars, did ease some of that tension. On the flip side, seeing Pat and James hanging out together didn't really help my state of mind. I couldn't help but wonder how, in just two months, they had become so close that she got an invitation to join the tour. Then it hit me with a pang in my heart that I hadn't needed much more than that to fall completely in love with Dave after meeting him.
I didn't really chat it up much with James. Seeing him with Pat kinda brought back all the wounds from that rainy weekend a few months back. But, he did give me a hug the moment he spotted me, holding onto me for maybe a beat longer than needed before whispering, his lips right by my ear:
"Missed you so much."
Hearing that sure didn't make things easier.
Seeing the guys all pumped up about the trip gave my mood a little boost. None of them, except Lars and me, had done the whole international travel thing before. The flight to Amsterdam was gonna be a marathon, so I had plenty of time to catch up with Leanne, who picked the seat next to mine. We mainly talked about everything that had happened in San Francisco during my absence; Leanne didn't ask much about me, which I was genuinely thankful for. It was nice having her around, but I wasn't really up for diving into how the last few months had been a rough ride. We kept the chatter going deep into the night until fatigue finally caught up with us, and we crashed.
We rolled into Amsterdam about twelve hours later, and man, we were wiped. Headed straight to the hotel, and lucky for us, the producers only snagged double rooms. Since we had an odd number and sharing a bed with Kirk or Lars wasn't my jam, I lucked out with a double bed all to myself. Honestly, better than I thought it'd be.
When night crept in, the guys and Leanne hit the town for some drinks and city exploring. Pat and I, though, opted for a chill night in, catching a few movies on the TV. Not that I wasn't up for hitting the streets, but all the hours spent on the plane did a number on me, more than I expected. Pat called it a night and went back to her room early, but I left the TV humming in the background, not really paying much attention to what was on.
It was well past midnight when I heard some heavy footsteps echoing down the hallway. My curiosity kicked in as a few deliberate knocks hit my door, and I pondered for a moment, debating whether I should bother answering. But the knocks persisted, and my curiosity won out. With a sigh, I rose from my spot and opened the door. My heart quickened when I found James leaning casually against the door frame.
"Mind if I come in?" he asked, a faint smile playing on his lips, though his voice betrayed a touch of uncertainty. I sighed, feeling warmth spread across my face. Having him so close made my heart flutter in a way I hadn't experienced in a while.
"This isn't your room," I mumbled, stupidly, my ability to think straight suddenly on vacation. He chuckled softly, a quick, dry laugh.
"If you hadn't said anything, I would never have guessed. Can I come in or not?"
I hesitated but eventually stepped aside, letting him in and closing the door. He stretched, shrugged off his jacket, and tossed it on my bed before settling down, kicking off his shoes. I furrowed my brow.
"You should head back to your room. Pat's probably waiting for you."
"She can wait," he said, finishing up with his shoes and pulling out a hair tie from his pocket, using it to secure his hair into a ponytail. Oddly, the sight made him even more attractive. I couldn't help but wonder if the hair tie belonged to Pat, who would often wear her hair tied up, and if he was picking up some habits from his new girlfriend. He stood up, seeming totally oblivious to my thoughts, and casually opened the mini-fridge, grabbing a Coke and popping it open. Then, he lifted his serious blue eyes to me. "I wanted to see you."
"Why?" I questioned, feeling my face warm up and my heart race, a million butterflies in my stomach going wild at his words. He sighed, a faint bitter smile playing on his lips.
"I missed you," he said, his voice low. "Last time we met, everything went south. I thought you hated me. Yet, when I saw you today, Nore..."
"James, please stop," I murmured, my voice trembling. He furrowed his brow, looking away, seeming hurt by my words, and I felt my heart squeeze uncomfortably in my chest. "You shouldn't be saying that."
"Oh, really?" He stood up, placing the can he was holding on the table before coming closer. I took a step back, feeling my face burn as I caught the storm brewing in his blue eyes. "And why’s that?"
"You have a girlfriend, don’t you?" I questioned, my voice holding accusation and hurt. "You brought your fucking girlfriend, so maybe you should just head back to her..."
"You make it sound so simple," he growled, taking another step closer, prompting me to lift my head to meet his gaze.
"And isn’t it?" I shot back, my tone bitter. "How aren't you ashamed of this?"
"Ashamed of what? Of bringing the girl I started dating to try forgetting about you?" he scoffed, clearly pissed now. "Tell me, Nore, what was I supposed to do? Just watch you reject me, again, and again, and again, and then act like you loved me just to mess with my head?"
"This isn’t fair to her!" I blurted out, all worked up, my voice getting louder. "This isn’t fair to me!"
"And what about me? Is it fair what you're pulling on me?"
"I don't get why you thought bringing her along was a genius move..."
"It didn't have to be genius. When you bailed on LA, I called you for days. You were the one who wanted nothing to do with me."
"You're such a jerk!" I spat out, my irritation cranking my voice up more than would be okay for past midnight, but honestly, I'd stopped caring about that ages ago.
James growled, getting suddenly closer, gripping my waist with one hand and pulling me against his body, forcing me to look deep into his eyes as he pressed his forehead against mine, his breathing erratic. His other hand cupped my cheek, his thumb tracing my lower lip. All the anger I had seemed to spill over at that moment; I wanted to punch him, to kick him out, to yell I never wanted to see him again, but I couldn't. Not when his lips were inches away from mine, his blue eyes locking onto mine with a fiery passion that made my whole body warm and vibrate inside.
"You fucking love me," he murmured, a smug smile slowly creeping across his lips. "Things would be so much easier if you just admitted it."
"Shut up, James," I growled, my heart doing a sprint in my chest, blood pulsing with fury in my ears, my hands clutching the front of his shirt and yanking him towards me. I needed him to split; I didn't know how much longer I could trust my anger to hold back the temptation of surrendering to his arms.
"Tell me you don't love me, then," he said, throwing in a sarcastic laugh. "Say you don't love me, and I’ll forget all this and leave you alone. You can't, can you? Because you fucking love me, damn it," His words buzzed with almost unrestrained joy, his grip on my waist tightening enough for me to let out a muffled moan from between my lips. Damn, I wanted him to kiss me. For the first time since all that mess had started, I wanted him to kiss me, to touch me, to make me forget my own name.
"Leave," I shot back, the defiance in my voice wavering as I sensed his body against mine. He let out a low chuckle but stepped back, his eyes ablaze, a smug smile on his face. I rested one of my hands on my chest, feeling my heart thudding against my fingertips, and noticed I was shaking. Gripping the doorknob with my other hand, I turned it but hesitated to open the door. "Just... Go, James. Please," I whispered, the adrenaline of the moment wearing off, and the old pain flooding back to fill my chest as my eyes welled up with tears.
I wasn't ready for any of that. The wounds from losing Dave were still too raw, to the point that acknowledging the desire I felt for James made my heart tighten with regret. What the hell was I thinking? I'd chosen Dave. And yet, he’d left me. What I wanted didn't mean shit in changing anything. How could I want anything from James when the very feeling I had for him had wrecked everything I held dear?
James seemed to catch onto my shift in mood, the triumph in his eyes giving way to pity when he noticed my tears building up. That sparked a rage in my chest; I didn't need his pity. I didn't need anyone's pity.
He made a move to come closer, but I just shook my head, turning away as I opened the door. After he left, I leaned against the closed door, letting myself slide down to sit on the floor, hugging my knees to my chest, feeling more alone, confused, and guilty than ever.
I woke up the next morning, feeling like I hadn't caught a wink of sleep. I groaned my way out of bed, pausing only to wash my face, brush my teeth, and swap outfits before heading down to the hotel's restaurant. There, I spotted Kirk, Lars, Cliff and Leanne already posted up at a table, digging into breakfast. I snagged a plate and plopped down next to Lars.
“After breakfast, we'll pack our bags and grab a shower. We're hitting the road after the show for the next city, so tonight, we’re all gonna be sleeping on the bus,” Cliff was laying out the plan when I rolled in.
“Great. Even crashing on a bus is cozier than sharing a bed with Lars,” Kirk griped, ignoring Lars' offended expression before shooting me a grin. “Hey, Nore, fancy bunking with me next time?”
"As if," I scoffed, and Lars burst into laughter.
"Hey, where's James?" Kirk asked, and I shrugged. Leanne bounced up to snag a hot cup of coffee, and Cliff sparked up a cigarette.
"Bet he's sleeping with Pat. Ever since they got together, she's been glued to him," Lars remarked, not looking too thrilled. Cliff snorted, rolling his eyes.
"Jealous, Lars?" I jokingly tossed the question while slathering butter on a piece of toast. He shot me a look, raising his eyebrows with a smirk.
"Hmm, not me. Can't say the same for you, though, huh?" His ironic smile lingered. I let out a frustrated huff, rolling my eyes, feeling the heat rising in my cheeks. Okay, maybe I walked right into that one.
A few minutes later, James and Pat finally strolled in. James, much like me, seemed to have had a rough night, evident in the dark circles under his tired blue eyes. On the flip side, Pat appeared to be the poster child for joy, easy smiles appearing on her lips as she talked to James, occasionally hugging his arm or intertwining her fingers with his. It was like she exuded confidence, as if she knew this was exactly where she belonged. Kind of got on my nerves, but I wasn't ready to dig into why.
The hustle for the show kicked off right after breakfast. We only had a short break to change and pack before heading back to the hotel lobby. A producer-arranged bus was set to pick us up, transporting everyone to a studio for the guys to rehearse the setlist during the day, and later to the venue for the shows. This leg of the journey got us all pumped. It wasn't just the band's inaugural international gig; we were also looking forward to meeting Venom and, naturally, enjoying some complimentary drinks. I must admit, even I was feeling a twinge of excitement and anxiety about the upcoming events.
I sparked up a cigarette while we hung out in front of the hotel, checking out the guys in action. They were teamed up with a couple of roadies, hauling gear that had been lugged up to the rooms the day before. Leanne strolled over.
"Got a light?" she asked, flashing a grin. I nodded, fished out my lighter, and passed it her way. She sparked up her cigarette, taking a few drags till it glowed. "Can I ask you something, Nore?"
"Sure thing, Lea," I replied, all curious. She shot me a look, her usual relaxed vibe getting a bit serious. Her eyes narrowed, like she was attempting to peek into my brain. "Spill it, what's on your mind?"
"How's it all sitting with you? You know, this whole James situation?" she asked, making me feel like there was a spotlight on me. 
"James? What do you mean?" I stammered, feeling the heat hit my face. She let out a soft chuckle at my reaction.
"I'm seriously wondering how she hasn't picked up on it yet." Leanne nodded toward Pat; she was holding James’ hand and talking to Lars, who seemed bored out of his mind, like he'd rather be doing anything else. "The way he looks at you. And the way you look at him."
"What are you getting at?" I whispered, my heart doing a somersault of sorts in my chest.
"You're into him, right? And it's crystal he's into you. Maybe you two should ditch the pride act and just… Allow yourselves to be happy."
"But Pat likes him too," I mumbled, letting a touch of annoyance creep into my voice. And I still don't know if I can allow myself to like anyone again.
"Honestly? I think she's crushing harder on James Hetfield, the Metallica frontman, than our James," she said with a chuckle. "Babe, you and James always clicked so easy. You seriously gonna let that slip away like this?"
I was kind of stumped for a response; right then, the bus rolled up, stealing everyone's focus. Lea crushed her cigarette and shot me a smile, then sauntered over to Cliff, offering a hand with carrying an amp. I took a minute to soak in the sight before joining them, attempting to shove aside the tornado of feelings Leanne's words had kicked up in me.
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✧ if you'd like to be tagged on the next parts, let me know and I'll add you to the tag list! ❤ ✧
tag list: @killazilla777 @whatsupvic @70srogah @genswine9
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poelya · 1 month
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it's been a hot minute, and honestly I'm trying to use social media less, but talking to @dameronalone last night about Poe spurred on a lengthier thought process/analysis of him today, so I want to talk about Poe Dameron and emotional neglect.
That sounds heavy as hell! It really does, but it's been on my mind recently while re-examining Poe while I come to terms with a new neurodivergency(tm) of mine, and it's really changing my whole perspective on him as a whole.
So what is emotional neglect? Well, according to ScienceDirect, it's this
Emotional neglect can be defined as a relationship pattern in which an individual’s affectional needs are consistently disregarded, ignored, invalidated, or unappreciated by a significant other.
At which point you're probably thinking "okay Nym, but Poe doesn't have a significant other" which is true! But Poe's emotions do get neglected quite often. Let's examine it below the cut shall we?
So what spawned this thought process of mine, was my partner mentioning that Poe probably is feeling a little bit "he was my friend first" about Finn in TROS, in regards to his jealousy. Whether you want to look at things from a romantic lens, a platonic lens, or a queerplatonic one, I think it's safe to say we can all agree that in TROS Poe is feeling left out.
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"You mean when Poe's not here" he's clearly bitter and angry about being the odd man out, that they're keeping secrets from him (even if they also don't know everything about him), and can't let it go even when they're about to be executed. Poe is usually the one to get left behind, so there's a lot that he's not privy too - not just in the sense that Finn and Rey both have the Force when he doesn't, just in the sense that there's a history there that Poe doesn't know.
And - to no fault of their own - I don't think anyone's attitudes in the film is particularly helping Poe's sense of isolation and alienation. He gets held to a particularly high, nearly impossible to reach, standard at every turn. He attempts to save everyone's life aboard the Falcon, and is at first clearly compared to Rey (although I don't understand Chewie, I think the "Rey wouldn't be doing this" translates extremely well considering Poe's follow up of "well Rey's not here, is she?"), and then his accomplishment of getting everyone back alive is completely dismissed because he trashed the Falcon doing so. Again, he's held to a standard he cannot meet. Every time Poe does something, it's treated as not enough.
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As much as we might joke about the fact that the TROS visual dictionary implies he has a praise kink, the fact that it points out that "yeah well, I got us back didn't I?" is Poe seeking acknowledgment, one that he doesn't get in the slightest, leads into I think the most telling thing about how much Poe's emotional needs are neglected: Zorii.
By all rights, things should be way more complicated between them than they are, from Poe's perspective. Regardless of how nuanced the actual circumstances were, the fact of the matter is that things ended awfully between them two of them (not that it started well between them, when Zorii tricked Poe) and the last time Poe saw her, they fought physically as enemies despite being friends that occasionally made out just a few short hours before.
And we do see some of that "complicated" initially. Poe drags his feet about going back to Kijimi (and I think a little of that is due to him not wanting to lose any 'standing' with Finn and Rey, if they find out something less than great about his past, then perhaps their opinion of him will drop), and he's guarded around Zorii - up until the rooftop scene.
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As much of it is likely latent "I think I might have loved you once upon a time" feelings, I do think Poe jumps so quickly into opening up around her, because she unintentionally fills an absence/lacking that Poe feels around everyone else, and especially around Finn and Rey (who at this point seem to be the people he's closest with). Zorii gets Poe in a way neither of them will be able to, on several layers, and I think that might be a little bit also why he's even able to open up to her. If Poe's already feeling left out, the having somebody abruptly ask him to run away with her because she wants him around and wants to include him, and then acknowledges what no one else has/is able to ("I don't believe you believe that"), then I can understand why Poe in the next few minutes is asking to kiss her.
But it's also indicative of...a recurring trait of Poe's, as well. Because Poe has a tendency of becoming ride or die for people, upon being offered...the bare minimum?
Zorii shows him a small amount of vulnerability in lowering her visor so they can speak, then admits she wants him around, and hears him out about his fears and points out that she knows deep down that he doesn't believe that. And it's enough to make Poe ask her to come with them, to kiss her, and then later give her bedroom eyes across the clearing on Ajan Kloss.
But - it's not just romantically that this happens. The same thing happens in Before the Awakening. Yes, Poe absolutely would have joined regardless because of what happened to Muran, but I personally think Poe becoming immediately ride or die for Leia, has a lot to do with the fact that Leia listens to him.
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He mentions that he's never felt so heard before in his life, and it moves him enough that I think it has a lot to do with why he's immediately personally loyal to Leia and willing to do anything for her.
Even prior to any romantic feelings for Zorii, he projects a bit on her in Freefall because they're of similar age, and winds up loyal to her because of the fact that they bond a little bit because of their similarities - in terms of age, of feeling older than they are because of trauma, and feeling the weight of their respective family legacies. Again, it's the bare minimum of being heard, that draws Poe in.
(I think you could make a small argument, also, for Poe being so immediately ride or die for Finn, because the latter saved Poe's life and then rescued BB-8.)
Considering the continuing trend of Poe throwing himself at the next problem so he doesn't have to stop and linger on his problems, I think his emotional neglect is partially self-inflicted, but I do think there is a larger habit of the people around him on occasion forgetting that he has those emotional needs as well.
He is the Leia of the sequel trilogy, in the sense that I think everyone looks at how strong and competent he is, and forgets that he needs the same amount of emotional care as anyone else. And unfortunately, unlike Leia, what Poe doesn't have is a Han to beat it over his head that he needs to be taken care of just as much as the Resistance does.
It all rounds back to the "everything's easy for Poe Dameron, no need to dwell" in issue #14 of the Poe comics. And you'd think that, since after TLJ Poe is no longer hiding behind that cheerful, cocky flyboy facade, that things would actually be easier for him, but it isn't - his emotional needs are still being neglected, routinely both by him and the people around him because it seems like he doesn't need them as much, WHILE also feeling left out and held to impossible standards he seemingly can't meet no matter how hard he tries or whatever he might accomplish.
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And it's hard to say what might have prompted this - it could be the strain his and Kes's relationship took due to Kes falling into a depression and being unable to meet Poe where Poe was at in his grief. It could (and most likely) have something to do with his mother's former coworkers telling Poe he was more trouble than he was worth and that Kes would give up on him someday. It could be from spending a year and a half/two years of being put down for his idealism by Zorii. It could be from years in the New Republic, being told he was a problem for being who he was and standing up for what he believed in. It could be all of the above, as well as Poe's own mental health problems.
But it's safe to say that I want to curl up around him like a protective little dragon and hug him for a long time and make that boy feel so loved that the bare minimum doesn't get hearts floating around in his eyes ever again.
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Brotherly Bond
"No! Stop! You think I don't know how he feels?! How you feel?! He was my brother too! And, yes, you and Leo were twins- a different connection than I ever had with him- but no one, NO ONE can tell me that I can't be just as upset!" Mikey shouts at his older brother and Donnie flinches, glancing at Cass and April as they leave his lab.
"Everyone keeps talking about you- saying 'oh, how tragic- his other half gone forever.... But it's okay, Mikey can help him!'" Mikey's eyes start glowing as he glares at Donnie, his hair turning white before his eyes. "Donnie.... I know the connection you and Leo had- twins, sharing everything together; holidays, birthdays. But that doesn't mean that just because I am the youngest, that I didn't have just as strong of a relationship with Leo! He was my older brother!"
Donnie glanced at the ground. He'd never paused to think about it. Of course, Leo had been his twin. His other half. But he didn't think that Mikey.... Was just as effected by his death as he was. Donnie felt like an idiot. He always used tech to push down his grief, but now he wondered if Mikey did the same.... When he helped other people with their feelings. Pushing down his own to help others.
When he looked back up at Mikey with tear filled eyes, he almost shrank back at how intense they were. Mikey made a sound- a choked, strangled noise as he glared at the ground.
"I'll never get to see him again.... Feel his ninpo around the base.... Have him help me with breakfast or patrols..." Mikey chuckled softly, wrapping his arms around himself.
"Use the older brother card on me... Donnie," Mikey finally met Donnie's eyes and his heart broke a second time. Donnie slowly walked forward and wrapped his arms around Mikey, gently shushing him.
"I'll never- see him again," Mikey sobbed into Donnie's scarf and Donnie pressed his nose to Mikey's hair.
"I know Mikes.... I'm sorry... Why didn't you ever tell me...?" Donnie pulled away to look at his little brother. Guilt pooled in his stomach- of course he had been grieving, locked up in his lab, leaving Mikey to run the base in his absence due to losing his twin. But he'd never stopped to think that maybe Mikey was going through something similar.... He really felt stupid now.
"You were always busy.... And I didn't want to seem like I didn't care about the relationship you and Leo shared.... I'm sorry," Mikey looked down at the ground again. Donnie frowns.
"Why are you sorry?"
"Because I feel like a just kicked your 'twin bond' under the buss," Mikey laughs bitterly.
"No you didn't. You opened my eyes Mikey. Look, I'm sorry I haven't been helping around the base that much these past few weeks, and I'm sorry I didn't realize that you were grieving just as much as I was. Yes, Leo was my twin, but he was your brother too. He's not just mine to grieve, Mikey," Donnie wraps an arm around Mikey's shoulder and gives him a small shake as Mikey rubs his eyes.
"Thanks, Dee."
"Anytime, 'Angelo," Donnie and Mikey share a smile before walking into the base kitchen.
Hiiiiii sooooo.... uhm... angst???? Anyone??? First piece of writing I'm posting here??? Anyways, I have been thinking about how the whole fandom talks constantly about Leo and Donnie's twin bond, but never ever mentions how Mikey may be affected by either of their deaths??? Like??? The twins are Mikey's older brothers. But the fandom just goes "heh, Mikey's the family therapist and has almost no connection to his brothers except for Raph." Guys. Please. SIBLING RELATIONSHIPS.
Btw, this is if Leo died instead of donnie- so my Double Genius au. I might make this longer, might not. Excuse the terrible writing.
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a-french-coconut · 7 days
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Travis Stoll (Part 12)
In his life, Travis saw his father a total of two times.
At the winter solstice party and on Olympus after the battle of Manhattan.
Both times, it had been a particularly awkward conversation.
He expects this one to be the same.
"Hi dad, thank you for coming I guess ? You really didn't have to though, a pegasus or something would have sufficed."
He thinks he sees something akin to hurt flashing in Hermes' eyes.
It can't be, the guy can't think that after eighteen years of almost total absence, it would normal for him to pop up like that.
Silence hovers for two good minutes before Hermes finally remembers that a conversation is something that requires two willing participants.
"It's alright, I have a little time before going to work again."
No you don't
Yeah, Aphrodite wants her new fragrance right now boss
"Hey George and Martha, I don't any rats for you guys, sorry."
Two groans of disappointment echo in his head, making him chuckle.
"Tell Aphrodite to wait, I'm pressed with more urgent matters right now." Hermes orders to George and Martha.
"So, hum, are you going to teleport to Camp ? Or maybe give me a ride ?", He tentatively asks, not sure about why Hermes is still here.
"Yes, but I was hoping we could talk."
Talk ?
When time is flying and Connor is getting closer and closer to death ?
"Can't this wait ? Connor's life is literally a matter of time."
"Oh, don't worry, you'll make it in time," says Hermes dismissing his concerns, "I just want to have a nice conversation with you, a father to a son ?"
For the first time, Travis feels anger towards Hermes.
"Don't worry ? My brother is dying ! You have waited eighteen years, you can wait a couple of hours more !" He snaps, not caring at that moment that he is talking to a god.
"I'm your father and I-"
"No ! Don't call me that, you don't deserve it. Do you know how many times I prayed to you, asked you to help Connor and me ? I didn't need a big gesture, just a sign that you cared." His voice breaks, all the emotions he guarded for so long getting out all together, "You want to be father ? Bring me to Connor now and I'll talk with you all the time you want after. Just...just let me make sure he's safe first. I can't lose him."
He's feeling raw, vulnerable and he's pretty sure he's going to get blasted for screaming at a god, basically calling him an atrocious father.
He braces himself for what awaits him, maybe he'll get turned to a rabbit. No, not a rabbit, too fast, but a slug. Now that's a good punishment, he'll be a disgusting slimy creature until some toddler decides to step on him out of pure curiosity.
He is not ready for his father's arms surrounding him, for the warmth he emits.
With an absent father and an alcoholic mother, there hasn't been real parental figures for Travis. He has never known a mother's protecting and kind embrace, a dad throwing him on his shoulder, walking with him head upside down and laughing.
He thought that he didn't need that, how could he missed something he never knew ?
When he hugs back his father fiercely, not caring of the tears wetting his father's postman uniform, he realises how much he had been craving it.
"I'm, hum, sorry about that," he sniffles, "I shouldn't blown like that, I don't know what happened but-"
"I'm the one who should apologise, Travis." Hermes cuts him off, looking at him with sadness.
"You are right, I have no right to call myself your father, I have done nothing to deserve it. I will bring you to Connor but I want you to know this." Hermes looks right into his eyes, "You have become an incredible demigod, a true son of mine and I couldn't be more proud than the way you care for your family, Travis."
"Thanks, dad." He answers with a strangled voice, "We'll talk with Connor once he's safe and sound right ?"
"Oh, absolutely. You're not the only Stoll to deserve a hug." His father jokes, a little smile gracing his features.
"I don't think Aphrodite is going to like that."
"I'll give her a discount, she'll be fine. Now come on, close your eyes."
Hermes begins glowing and Travis dutifully closes his eyes.
Of course Hermes is big softie for his children (:
But you know, he's still a god, nothing like a good reality check to show him that he deserves worst dad award.
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sachiko1309 · 6 months
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I will protect you - Part 1
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Summary: After the kidnapping and rape of Lucy, the relationship between Spock and her strained, causing a big fight between the two. Both interpreting the actions of the other wrong.
Word count: 3699
Warnings: fight, overwhelmed Spock, confronting her rapist, mentioning of rape, emotional break down Minors DNI! this contains adult content
In honor of a good friend of mine: @mystery-star thanks for poking my brain to produce happy chemicals and therefore continuing to write 🥰
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The longer my condition lasted, the colder Spock became. He never took his hardness out on me, but I could see it in the way he talked to Jim or Bones, the way his hands shook when he tried to forcefully maintain control. Maybe that was exactly what made me pull myself together and get out of bed. One day, I didn't know exactly which one, I had the urge to do something. Spock had just been called to the bridge to join Jim, so I had my cabin to myself. I got in the shower, brushed my teeth and put on a uniform. This time I decided on a version with trousers, tying my hair back in a bun.
Before I left my room, I checked again to make sure the hallway was clear. Then I set off quickly and quietly towards the prisoner track. I stalked the halls like a leper. Always careful not to be seen by anyone. My absence on the bridge had certainly been noticed by now and the additional absence of Spock had probably started some rumors.
Only when I reached my destination did I breathe a sigh of relief. Luckily, the cell hallway was empty. A single camera monitored the hallway, but I knew it would only be checked if an alarm went off. I locked the door behind me and pulled a chair in front of the only inhabited cell in this area.
When I raised my head, Hanesh was already looking at me expectantly: "Brave." Was all he said as he looked me over. "Why?" Was all I asked, not taking my eyes off the man in front of me. He just tilted his head. “Why what?” There was a slight twitch at the corner of his mouth, but I wasn’t sure. I crossed my legs and continued to look at him: “Why all this? Where’s the logic?”
My question seemed to appeal to him because he got up from his bed and slowly stalked towards the invisible barrier that separated us. “The better question would be, why not?” Was his answer. “Why not take what you can? What's the point of putting a chastity belt on yourself when everything is at your feet? It is the logic of nature. The right of the strongest. And you, my love, are unfortunately one of the weak ones.”
"I'm not weak." The defiance was clear in my voice, causing Hanesh to laugh out loud. "But of course. That's why it was so incredibly difficult to get my hands on you. The strong, untouchable Lieutenant Lucy Esteban. If so, how come your own captain would trade you for a relic? Even your race draws a line. Determines which people should be protected and which should not. And the man you call your partner... The pathetic bastard of a Vulcan, born of a lowly human woman... Guided by his feelings, like his father, he falls for the next human woman who spreads her legs only to lose to me.”
Hanesh threw his head back and cackled maliciously. He laughed so loudly that my words were almost lost in the echo: “The only one who lost is you. You’re sitting in a cell. You will be prosecuted. And if Spock was so weak, how come you lost to him? According to your logic, this should never have happened. And yet here we are.” Slowly, a small smile crept onto my lips as I saw how much my words affected my tormentor.
“Don’t you dare…” He tried to threaten me, but I sat up in my chair. “What?” I cocked my chin arrogantly, looking at him with my undisguised hatred. "What you wanna do? You have failed. Lost to a human and a halfling.”
“Did I?” Hanesh quickly regained his stillness. His eyes dripped with mockery as he spoke, “You will never be able to forget me. I will always be a part of you. Your constant shadow that makes you look over your shoulder. Who makes you see every man as an enemy. Makes every corner a danger. You will never be completely at peace. And it will eat you up. Letting you go to waste. To the point where even a Vulcan can no longer bear what his k'diwa has become. Tell me, do you let Spock touch you or can't you stand being close to him? How long do you think he will take it before he turns away? Weeks? Months if you’re lucky?”
His words brought tears to my eyes, I desperately tried to blink them down, but I couldn't. The first rolled down my cheek and dripped onto my arm. “I won't let this happen. Spock won't go. We will make it."
“If you say so, love. But I don't think you believe a single word you say." Hanseh's voice was quiet but full of hatred. He knew exactly what his words were doing. How deeply they affected me.
He voiced my worst fears. Would Spock endure what he had seen? Would he, no could he still love me after all this? He was barely able to look me in the eyes now. Every time I shied away from him, he disappeared for a while, leaving me behind. Was it his way to get away from me?
"Cam you see it now? Your decline has already begun.” Hanesh ’s last words finally made me jump. I ran, no raced, down the hall and unlocked the door with shaking fingers. His laughter echoing through the halls, following me all the way to my cabin, and continued even as I pressed my hands over my ears and fell to the floor screaming.
***
The door opened behind me and someone sank to their knees next to me. “T'hy'la. No. Don't let him win. I'm not going anywhere. I promise.” Spock. I blindly reached for his hands, letting his feelings completely overwhelm me in order to forget my own. He stiffened, perplexed, but I didn't care. I needed him and the conversation with Hanesh had shown me exactly that. Sobbing, I climbed into his lap and began to cling to him.
Spock snapped out of his trance and pulled me into a tight hug. He slowly got up from the floor and carried me towards the bed, then buried me under himself and the blanket. As if he wanted to banish the world around me from my mind. I just continued to hold onto him. Arms and legs wrapped tightly around his torso, head buried in his chest, as I listened to his heartbeat. He said nothing. Just held me tight. One arm supported his body weight while the other held my head to his chest. Only when I pressed my head against his hand did he let go of me and leaned on both arms. I wasn't sure what made me do it, but I pulled his head down again and pressed my lips to his.
As soon as he felt my kiss, Spock gave in. Sighing, he sank onto his forearms and deepened the kiss. It was beautiful and terrible at the same time. Spock's soft lips, the closeness that I finally felt with him again. But there was something else. Fear and panic spread through me and I tried obsessively to suppress them. But Spock had already sensed them.
He suddenly let go of me, sitting back on his knees as he moved away from me. “I'm sorry, t'hy'la . Please forgive me.” I was confused. What should I forgive him for? He must have misinterpreted my expression because Spock got up from the bed. He stood rigidly still in the middle of the room, unsure whether he should go or stay. He chose the former.
That finally triggered the panic in me. “Don’t!” I almost screamed, my voice cracking, as I jumped up and held him tight. "Do not go. Don't leave me alone.” Even though Spock hugged me back, I could sense how uncomfortable he felt. His voice was now as emotionless as if he were speaking to colleagues. “I’m scaring you. You don't have to suppress your fear because of me. It's only logical that you shy away from physical contact after everything that's happened.”
“I don’t shy away from your physical contact.” I contradicted him and took his hands in mine as if to prove it. "Do you see? You don't scare me. I know you would never harm me.”
"And yet I felt your panic when I kissed you." Spock continued to resist.
“But that has nothing to do with you. I…” I looked around the room, struggling for words. "I... Hanesh ... When you knelt over me like that, I was back on his ship for a moment... I don't know why..."
“Your brain processes the experience by reliving memories in similar situations to evaluate how to deal with it.” Spock rattled off and released his hands from mine again. “I won’t pressure you into anything. You need time to process everything.” He wanted to leave again, but I held him again. "Time." I spat. “It's been weeks. You sat by my bed for almost four weeks, enduring everything with me. I don't need any more time. I need you. Your hugs, your love, your touches.”
"It wouldn't be right..." Spock didn't look at me. His face was impassive. Eyes fixed firmly on the door. “Not right?” Now I got angry. "Give me one reason why it's not right for my boyfriend... husband by Vulcan law, to sleep with me?" That's when Spock turned around. “You are emotionally upset. It would be better if we talked about it another time.” His voice was cold and calculating, his eyes fixed on me without any expression.
His rejection stung me and I reflexively pulled the walls up around me again. “So it’s because of my emotionality. An emotionality that is to be expected with such a topic. And all you can think of is 'we'll talk later'?" I flippantly lifted my chin and looked at him challengingly. But my reaction didn't seem to have any effect on him. Quite the opposite. Nodding stiffly, he replied, “That’s correct.”
At those three words, everything inside me broke. My heart shattered in the depths of my grief as my body was pierced by searing arrows of anger. Somehow I managed to keep my anger in check and not yell at him, even though everything in me wanted to slap him. Spock, on the other hand, seemed to either not notice my anger or deliberately ignore it. “I don’t think it’s a good idea. Intimacy too soon could further affect you and cause long-term damage. It would be better if we took it slower so as not to overwhelm you.”
“Not to overwhelm me?” I practically screamed. The dam inside me had burst. Tears ran down my cheeks, my hands were shaking and I felt nauseous. But I pulled myself together. I took a deep breath before continuing: “I think I know better what is right for me and what isn’t. I am grateful for your consideration. Really. Because I know you only want the best for me. But I need this. Need you.” My words seemed to soften him because he visibly relaxed. But what he said next was the opposite of what I expected: “Your assessment that I only want the best for you is entirely correct. But I think your statement that you know better what is good for you in your current state is wrong. You are emotionally upset, which means your ability to make decisions is negatively affected. So it would definitely be better to listen to my advice.”
My jaw literally dropped to my feet. Did he really just…? Without thinking about it, I rushed towards him and tried to slap him. Unfortunately he was significantly faster than me. He deftly caught my hand and looked at me confused, but I was no longer able, let alone willing, to explain to him what he had done wrong. “Get out!” I yelled at him. “Just leave. And I swear to God, if you so much as set foot in my cabin, I will kill you.”
"K'diwa ..." Spock tried to calm me down, but I had had enough: "NO! I don't care what you want to say. Your presumption to think that you can decide for me... Telling me through the grape wine that I am not capable of taking responsibility for my decisions... Patronizing me so much... Enough is enough. Just leave!” I pushed against his body with all my strength, trying to force him out of my cabin, but I couldn't. Like a tree, he stood firmly rooted without moving an inch.
"T'hy'la ...I'm sorry. I didn't mean to… It was never my intention to patronize you…” But I didn't let him explain any further. I grabbed the first object I could find and threw it at Spock. “Get out now!” My voice had now reached a height where I was sure it wasn't far until I could burst glasses. My whole body was shaking, as my heartbeat was pounding in my ears and I was on the verge of losing consciousness.
Spock also seemed to notice that it would be better to leave at this moment, because he walked backwards towards the door with his hands raised. "I'm sorry. Please forgive me, t’hy’la.” But I studiously ignored his words and waited until the door closed before locking it.
I collapsed on the floor crying. I curled up in a ball and just sobbed to myself. It felt like all my strength had gone from my limbs, like the control of my body had left the room with Spock. I slowly rolled onto my back and remained motionless. With my eyes fixed on the ceiling above me, focused on the feeling of wet tears running from my eyes and into my hairline. I was cold. Not in an actual perceived temperature, it was more of an emotional coldness that slowly ate through my body, devouring me body part by body part, leaving me completely numb.
In the corner of my eye I saw the clock on my wall. 10:34 am. That meant, in theory, I still had almost seven hours of work ahead of me. I sat up abruptly and walked into the bathroom. Looking in the mirror, I took off my clothes, got in the shower and started getting ready for the day. I looked as if my body had been turned into a mindless shell, but I couldn't care less. I needed a distraction. A distraction from Spock, Hanesh, and my own mind. And what could be better than work?
With the PADD tucked under my arm, I made my way towards the bridge. As I went, I noticed people staring at me, but I ignored them. I was completely focused on the path in front of me and the feeling of the uniform pants slapping against my legs. With every step the fabric seemed to get stiffer, as if my clothes themselves were trying to keep me from working. Taking one last deep breath, I walked through the door of the bridge.
Within a split second, all eyes were on me. Spock and Jim looked as if they had seen a ghost, while the rest looked at me with looks varying from joy to confusion to concern. Without even explaining my appearance to anyone, I went to my seat and stuck the communicator in my ear. I then connected my PADD to the computer and began translating various captured messages. Apparently some messages had been intercepted while I was away and either couldn't be translated or were marked as unimportant.
Nobody spoke to me. Not even Spock, although he sat down next to me and went about his own work. After a while, the feeling that I was being watched disappeared and I heard the hustle and bustle behind me start again.
***
I didn't quite realize how much time had passed, but as the bridge emptied around midday, Spock cleared his throat for the first time. He stood next to me, stiff as ever, holding a plate of food in his outstretched hand. “I have come to apologize for my previous behavior and hope that after work we can find a solution to our problem together.”
My eyes darted back and forth between his face and the plate. “You brought me food? Why?” Was all I could come up with, still completely confused by the situation. Spock, however, seemed like he was doing the most logical thing in the world. “I have discovered over the weeks of our relationship that food contributes to your emotional upliftment. Since my last action left you upset, it was only logical that I contribute something to your well-being.”
"So, you're bribing me?" I asked, reaching for the plate in his hand. Apparently, Spock was still wary of any further outbursts on my part, so he stopped and looked at me. “Please forgive, t'hy'la. I don't quite understand how providing basic needs can be an attempt at bribery." His helplessness forced a small smile on my lips and I couldn't help but reach for his hand.
"It was a joke." I replied as I linked our fingers together. “Of course, I will talk to you later. Sorry I freaked out so much. I don't know why, and I really hope you can forgive me." Ashamed, I looked down and tried to hide the blush on my face.
"K'diwa." Spock's fingers under my chin forced me to look at him again. “There is nothing to apologize for. Even though I don't fully understand how you feel, I do understand why you reacted the way you did. I also had a very insightful conversation with my father and he made me understand what my mistake was.” I shook my head. "You didn't do anything wrong." But Spock interrupted me before I could launch into another tirade: "I tried to answer your emotions with my logic. That was wrong. Please forgive me, from now on I will try to respond to you better and make you feel like I am there for you. Because it seems that you humans value emotional support far more than a logical approach to solving a problem.”
I couldn't help but laugh at that. I placed the plate on the counter and ignored the reproachful look Spock passed between me and the plate. Then, I stood up and took his face in my hands and this time he didn't back away from me. Quite the opposite. He rested his hands on my waist and just looked at me.
"I love you." Was all I said before I pulled him down and kissed him, knowing that everyone on the bridge was probably staring at us right now. But Spock didn't seem to care either, because he wrapped an arm around my body and pulled me closer to him. Out of reflex, I relaxed and let him guide me. His lips were gentle yet firm on mine while his free hand rested on mine at the back of his neck. I immediately felt the relief rolling through his body and mixing with his love for me. Unlike usual, he barely suppressed the strength of his emotions and I clung to his uniform as my knees threatened to buckle under the force.
Only a loud clearing of a throat behind him caused us to break apart. He immediately pushed me behind him and puffed up protectively. But when he saw it was Jim and his father, he visibly relaxed and loosened the arm holding me behind him. “Captain. Father.” Was all he replied with a nod before turning to his desk. Jim looked at me with a questioning look, while Sarek just raised a knowing eyebrow.
I just shrugged and took the plate in my hand. As I ate, I went back to my work and tried not to pay too much attention to the whispers behind me. But I didn't succeed. Sighing, I almost slammed the plate on my desk and turned around in my chair: "Does anyone have a problem or a question that would otherwise burn through the seat of their pants?"
With a raised eyebrow, I surveyed the people in the room and looked everyone in the eye for a few seconds. Many looked down in shame, but a few held their ground. Sulu was the first to speak, "Not that it's any of our business, but we're all curious as to why you and Commander Spock haven't shown up for work for the last few weeks. Well not precisely, the Commander was on the bridge every now and then, but still. Some of us are worried. That's all."
I nodded and looked at him. “I understand and I’m really grateful for it. But I can't talk about it yet. And maybe I never will be able to. What I can say is that I'm fine. At least given the circumstances.”
“So, you're not pregnant?” Chekov blurted out, causing me to barely suppress a giggle. "No. I'm not. My absence is more of a psychological nature and Spock was there to support me.” Chekov nodded, his ears turning red.
“It’s a shame actually. It would have been the first Enterprise baby.” Sulu looked at me with a grin, whereupon I just showed him the middle finger. But he ignored me and turned to Chekov instead. With his hand outstretched, he said, “Looks like you owe me 50 bucks, Pavel.”
My jaw literally dropped to the floor. "You haven't seriously bet on whether I'm pregnant, have you?" Sulu just tilted his head. “Well actually, we bet on pretty much anything when it comes to you and the Commander. It’s not every day that a Vulcan is so human.” Shaking my head, I turned back. “Honestly, those who have you as friends no longer need enemies…”
“Pffff, you would be missing something if it were any other way.” I responded to Sulu’s objection with another middle finger and got a few laughs in the process.
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lindyloosims · 23 days
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Bianca let out a cry of relief that Kiril had left Tomas more or less unscathed, the worst thing that he would have was a black eye, Kiril really did go easy on him.
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"We're keeping the baby, it's mine! You have nothing to do with it, understand?" Kiril muttered, so quietly that even my vampire ears struggled to hear him.
"But-" Tomas began to protest, but Kiril was having none of it.
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"You've done enough damage, you can't have the kid! Bianca and I will raise it as our own! You owe us that much!" Bianca sobbed when she heard this, clearly he'd not talked it over with her, but she was overjoyed that she wasn't going to lose her husband over her...mistake.
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"Ohhhh Kiril!" She exclaimed and threw her head back, taking a deep breath, one she'd no doubt been holding the whole time Kiril and Tomas were brawling.
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"I will do as you ask!" Tomas agreed sadly, I would be lying if I said I didn't feel for him, he'd now lost two children. Or was this one even lost if he was never going to meet them in the first place?
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"You will not contact my wife ever again, you hear?" Tomas nodded in agreement, I don't think he was that taken with Bianca, all he wanted was the comfort of a blonde in Genevieve's absence...and he couldn't have Hallie!
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I was a mixture of relieved and angry, Tomas had once again brought trouble to my door. I would give him until morning to pack his things, then he had to go...for good!
<Previous-Next>
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idkyetxoxo · 3 months
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One | Vagabond | The Last Kingdom
"Are you a whore?" 
"Watch your mouth you jerk,"
─── ✦⋅ ☆⋅✦ ───
"Shots!" Annabelle's cheer resonated as the tray of intoxicating elixirs made its way to our crowded booth. Amid our collective drunkness, the relentless flow of drinks showed no signs of stopping.
Each of us eagerly seized a shot glass, joyously proclaiming "cheers" before succumbing to the bittersweet embrace of the liquid fire. I roughly placed my glass down, surveying the scene unfolding around me. "I love you all so much this is the best birthday ever," I professed loudly, slightly stumbling over my words because of the alcohol-induced haze that had enveloped me several drinks ago. 
"Let's dance!" Erin enthusiastically proposed, seizing the nearest individuals as we stumbled towards the dance floor. I latched onto my boyfriend's neck, coaxing him to join. Though slightly more composed than the rest of us, he was far from being completely coherent.
Pulling him close, we swayed in harmony with the music. "I'll go grab more drinks for us," he slurred before departing for the bar. I nodded in agreement, losing myself in the euphoria of the celebration.
As the night unfolded, it became a kaleidoscope of additional drinks, uninhibited dancing, and eventually, my recollection succumbed to the haze of intoxication. 
The remainder of the evening blurred into fragmented memories.
── ✦⋅ ☆⋅✦ ──
My eyelids reluctantly parted, greeted by the harsh embrace of the sun glaring directly into them. The ache reverberated through my entire body, and as my surroundings gradually came into focus, the realization struck me, I was outdoors. A swift survey disclosed a woodland setting, leaving me disoriented in the midst of nature's embrace.
"Hello" my call echoed, but the only response was a resounding silence. My hands fumbled in search of my phone, only to discover its absence. "Atlas" I shouted, hoping to find the presence of my boyfriend.
In scrutinizing my attire, I was taken aback I was still wearing the very short and tight gold sparkly dress with matching heels. "Where am I?" I mumbled to myself, scanning the unfamiliar surroundings.
The rhythmic trotting of horses drew my attention as a man and woman approached, they were wearing old-fashioned clothing and both had interesting hairstyles as if plucked from a past era.
"Who are you?" the man inquired, and relief washed over me as he spoke in English. "Y/n," I replied, sensing his intense gaze scrutinizing my body and face, leaving me slightly uncomfortable.
"Are you a whore?" he blurted out, leaving me utterly taken aback. "Watch your mouth, you jerk," I retorted, adjusting my dress subconsciously. The woman chastised him with a disapproving tut, and he nonchalantly shrugged.
"Can I borrow your phone please I think I lost mine?" I asked as politely as I could and they both looked at me like I had asked for their firstborn child. "No," the man said slowly and I frowned, he surely seemed like a little ray of sunshine.
"Where are we?" I queried as frustration began to set in, and the woman answered, "Wessex" with a smile. 
Confusion clouded my mind, as my last recollection placed me in a dark London club surrounded by intoxicated people. "You're not from around here," she added, pointing out the obvious and I resisted the urge to shoot her a mocking smile.
Attempting to clarify, she explained, "You are from the future." 
This time I didn't hold back my laugh at her ridiculous statement. I asked mockingly, "So what you guys from the Stone Age or something?" Their blank stares towards me suggested they struggled to comprehend the notion and my face contorted into worry towards their seriousness.
"You're from a different period of time," she stated, brushing off my previous question. 
I attempted to make sense of the situation by asking about the current era and their ignorance seemed to mirror my own. I groaned realising my lack of knowledge on the subject of history and their lack of knowledge on the future wasn't helping either of us. 
"Is this a joke?" I questioned, narrowing my eyes at them. The woman shook her head while the man sighed in frustration.
Frustrated myself, I probed about the current monarch, only to receive a grunt and an annoyed look.
"Who leads here?" I simplified hoping it was more understandable, and the response I received was "King Alfred," sending a shiver down my spine as a lump formed in my throat.
"Like Alfred the Great, the first King of the English?" I choked out, barely comprehending the improbable truth of being catapulted into medieval times.
"I'm going to be sick," I declared, the urgency in my voice palpable as I staggered towards a nearby tree. Leaning against the rough bark, I doubled over, my body convulsing with waves of nausea. 
The acidic taste lingered in my mouth, mingling with the scent of the earth around me, as I struggled to regain my composure amidst the overwhelming sickness and thoughts swirling around my mind.
The woman finally dismounted her horse, followed shortly by the man. She walked over to me and offered a flask of water, which I hesitantly accepted.
"I want to go back," I said looking at her pleadingly like she could somehow catapult me back. "I'm afraid that is not a possibility" she frowned softly. 
Tears welled up in my eyes as I yearned to reunite with my friends, hoping this was all some kind of cruel and weirdly realistic nightmare. "I want to see Atlas and Annabelle and Erin and all my friends" I bubbled out pushing away from the woman. 
"Your path lies here now there is no return," she explained plainly, and I harshly wiped away the tears that had managed to escape.
"Don't be stupid, I don't know anyone or anything here" I admitted "I have no knowledge of this stuff" I breathed out and she took a step towards me gently placing a hand on my shoulder in an attempt to comfort me. "Do not worry Uhtred will guide you, he will be your protector." 
The man visibly reluctant, voiced his objections very vocally, I assumed he was the Uhtred she spoke of. 
"I will do no such thing" he said and the woman shook her head "It is your destiny" she said simply and Uhtred sighed heavily wiping his hand over his forehead in disbelief, the word 'destiny' seemed to sway him.
"Come with us, my name is Iseult," she offered, and weighing the risks, I reluctantly followed. 
My options boiled down to a precarious balance, either wander aimlessly, risking an encounter with someone who might not be as understanding, or defy the basic principle of stranger danger and follow after the enigmatic couple who contradicted each other.
Iseult shrugged off her cloak handing it to me "Wear this, the place we're heading to will not be welcoming to a woman dressed like that" she said and I suddenly felt extremely self-conscious in my dress.
I pulled the cloak over my body quickly and Uhtred looked down at my shoes "Why do you have weapons on your feet?" he asked and I lifted one of my legs looking at the heels "These aren't weapons they are heels" I explained. 
For a man who seemed so sure of himself and exuded arrogance, he was quite silly.
"Take them off and leave them here," he said getting onto his horse with ease "I'm not leaving these here they're Versace!" I protested, but he paid no heed. 
Tears welled up again as I hid the precious heels in a set of bushes, reminiscing about the joyful moment they were gifted to me by my boyfriend.
Barefoot, I questioned the absurdity of going unnoticed without shoes and the only response I received was a laugh from the man, he was really beginning to annoy me.
Iseult cautioned against revealing my origins explaining it may not be the wisest decision, and Uhtred simply commanded me not to speak at all. I frowned wrapping the cloak tighter against my body not liking this one bit.
I attempted to get onto his horse once I realised that was our mode of transport and struggled in the process. Uhtred sighed before effortlessly lifting me onto his horse a little harshly, I yelped as he manhandled me swatting his arm firmly as he ignored me rolling his eyes.
The journey through the forest began in silence, leaving me grappling with the unfathomable reality of what was happening.
"Do not speak" Uhtred repeated as the horses took off and I had to stop myself from smacking him across the face.
─── ✦⋅ ☆⋅✦ ───
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I'M SO EXCITED FOR THIS STORY 🤭🤭
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lythea-creation · 3 months
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I Love Her More - Tasneem x fem reader (Chapter 2)
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Previous Chapter
warnings: none i think (otherwise let me know)
word count: 961
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(f/n)'s PoV
Back in class I noticed Hiba's absence. Despite her ruff attitude I knew that this was not like her.
I wondered if anything had happened between Hiba and Tasneem. That would explain why Tasneem had been upset as well.
My eyes wandered over to her to see if she was worrying about Hiba, too.
The sad expression on her face when she switched between looking at me and Hiba's empty seat revealed that she was somehow in on this.
After a while I just could not sit still anymore. The minutes ticking by were feeling like hours. So I asked to go to the bathroom and started searching for Hiba.
Luckily I already had a suggestion where she might be. She had a favorite hiding place where she secretly disappeared when something was bothering her.
So I walked straight to that and found Hiba sitting there with her head placed on her knees.
“Hey, Hiba”, I called out softly.
Her head snapped up at my voice. “(f/n), what are you doing here?”
“What do you think? I was searching for you. You didn't come to class”, I pointed out.
A smirk crept onto her face. “Oh, how cute. You missed me already”, she teased me.
She had been crying, but I decided not to mention it.
“Wanna get back to class?”, I suggested.
“Nah. You can go back if you want”, she remarked.
“I won't leave without you”, I proclaimed and sat down next to her. “Remember last week when we were in the mall and you yelled at that guy?”
“Of course I do”, she recalled with a chuckle. “He was obviously staring at you. He wasn't so cocky anymore when I confronted him though.”
“Yeah. My hero”, I noted smiling. “I never have to worry when you're around. But you really didn't have to start a fight with my cousin on my birthday.”
“Hey, he deserved it”, she justified herself. “He was stealing the show from you on your own birthday.”
“True. But you didn't have to make him cry”, I considered.
“Not my fault that he's so sensitive”, she declared. “You deserve that somebody's fighting for you.”
“Thanks Hiba”, I uttered, a soft smile adorning my face.
“God! You're so cute”, she proposed, making me blush.
That did not exactly improve when her face got closer and she even cupped my cheek.
“Hiba, what …?”
She interrupted me with a kiss and I could not help but freeze.
I had totally misread her behavior, thought that she had just been a great friend. Apparently I had been wrong.
“What the hell?”, Tasneem exclaimed.
When had she arrived here and why did she have to see?
That made me finally unfreeze and push Hiba away from me. “Tasneem, it's not what you're thinking”, I claimed.
Tasneem completely ignored my words and instead started yelling at Hiba: “How could you do that to me?”
“Do what to you? It's not my fault that you're too chicken to make a move”, she shot back.
“So our friendship doesn't even matter?”, Tasneem inquired.
“What friendship? You made yourself pretty clear that you couldn't stand me anyway. So why bother?”
Their fight had been over me?
They continued yelling at each other, while I was stuck in the middle, contemplating what to do. I've had a crush on Tasneem for a long time now, but I did not want to lose either of them.
I took a deep breath to calm myself down before yelling at them to stop. To my surprise it actually worked out.
But now that they were both looking at me expectantly I did not quite know what to say. It felt like I was moving in a mine field, every wrong word could blow it all up.
“Have you already forgotten everything we've been through together? How much time we spent? How many of our experiences are linked to each other? How can you just throw it all away over a crush?”, I questioned.
“It's not just some silly crush, (f/n). I talked to Omar and broke up with him because I only love you. Being with Omar was just what everyone else wanted to see. But I don't”, Tasneem confessed.
I took her hand in mine and squeezed it slightly.
“Guys, I'm really flattered that you both love me so much. But I don't want any of this to ruin our friendship”, I proposed.
“It won't. But only if you make your decision”, Hiba pointed out. “Otherwise it will always be between us. If you turn one of us down we can at least work through it.”
Tasneem nodded in agreement.
“Are you sure?”, I wondered.
“Yeah. Let's get it over with”, Tasneem stated.
“Hiba, I'm sorry. I love you so much, but as a friend. So I choose Tasneem”, I announced.
A big smile captured Tasneem's face as she pulled me closer, but I shook my head at her, waiting for Hiba's reaction.
Hiba shook her head, tears evident in her eyes. Then she disappeared without a word.
I had the urge to go after her, but knew that it was too early for that. She needed time. What she definitely did not need was one of us to try to cheer her up or be sympathetic.
So instead I turned around to Tasneem and pulled her down into a kiss.
“You have no idea how long I've waited for this”, she proposed afterwards.
“Me too”, I confessed, pulling her into a tight embrace, hoping that Hiba would be able to accept our new relationship at one point.
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So what do you guys think? How do you like the story? What about the different versions?
Tag List: @sunwoniie
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[ WORK AND LIFE UPDATE ] HELLO DARLINGS! I KNOW IT'S BEEN A LONG, LONG TIME SINCE I'VE LAST POSTED. IN THIS POST, I'LL BE TALKING THROUGH EVERYTHING THAT HAD HAPPENED DURING MY ABSENCE, INCLUDING SOME THINGS THAT HAVE BEEN LINGERING ON MY MIND IN THIS POST, I'LL BE TALKING ABOUT:
CURRENT STATUS OF AUTHOR AND WORKS
WHAT I'LL BE DOING WITH THE BLOG
REMOVAL/WITHDRAWAL OF CERTAIN FANDOMS
CONCERNS FOR REQUESTS
POSTING SCHEDULE FOR POST
CURRENT STATUS OF AUTHOR AND WORKS
THE REASON I'VE BEEN SO RADIO SILENT IS MAINLY SCHOOL AND FAMILY STUFF. TWO YEARS AGO, I WAS BUSY TAKING CARE OF MY SISTER'S KIDS (FOR AN ENTIRE YEAR SO TO SAY) AND JUST LAST YEAR, I ENROLLED FOR FOUNDATION (AND I'M NEARLY DONE WITH MY SECOND SEMESTER, YAHOO!!) I COULDN'T REALLY INDULGE MYSELF IN WRITING (OR DRAWING) ANYTHING BECAUSE I WAS HAVING MASSIVE WRITING BURNOUT FROM HAVING TO CHURN OUT SO MANY WORKS IN THAT YEAR (THE YEAR OF 2022 WAS A WILD ONE, NO JOKE-) THAT WASN'T THE ONLY THING THOUGH, THE FALL OUT I HAD WITH TWISTED WONDERLAND WAS ALSO THE MAIN CAUSE FOR MY DISAPPEARANCE. FOR ALMOST TWO YEARS AND HALF, I WAS INACTIVE IN THE FANDOM, THE GAME AND EVERYTHING IN GENERAL. TWISTED WONDERLAND WAS THE MAIN REASON I STARTED UP THIS BLOG AND I'VE NEVER BEEN MORE GRATEFUL TO MEET AND GET TO KNOW SO MANY WONDERFUL PEOPLE, WRITERS, ARTISTS DURING MY STAY. SO TO SEE THAT I WAS SLOWLY LOSING PASSION TO WRITE FOR TWISTED WONDERLAND WAS VERY DISHEARTENING, BECAUSE ALL OF YOU DARLINGS WHO LOVED MY TWST WORKS MADE THIS BLOG AS IT IS NOW. I DID TRY TO FIX THIS BY MAKING MY TWST BLOG INTO A MULTI-FANDOM BLOG, ADD MORE FANDOMS FOR PEOPLE TO REQUEST IN AN EFFORT KEEP THE BLOG ALIVE BUT AS YOU CAN SEE, I FAILED TERRIBLY. SOMEWHAT (GENSHIN, ARKNIGHTS, ALCHEMY STARS, ETC) I FELT MISERABLE, BECAUSE I WAS MAINTAINING A GOOD STREAK OF POSTING MY WORKS BUT THEN I SEEM TO JUST…RELAPSE INTO ANOTHER DISAPPEARING ACT. I WOULDN'T SAY THAT IT WAS A BURNOUT FROM WRITING BUT MORE LIKE I DIDN'T RESONATE ENOUGH WITH THE FANDOM ITSELF. MY GUILT ATE ME UP FROM THE INSIDE BECAUSE I COULDN'T DELIVERY ON WITH MY PROMISE, REQUESTS PILING UP IN MY INBOX AS IF REMINDING OF ME INCONSISTENCIES SO I STAYED INACTIVE. AGAIN. THERE WERE EVEN TIMES THAT I EVEN CONTEMPLATED OF DELETING THE ENTIRE BLOG ITSELF OUT OF MY OWN SELFISHNESS BECAUSE THE BLOG WAS GRADUALLY TURNING INTO A CHAIN, SOMETHING THAT WAS DRAGGING ME DOWN. ONCE AWHILE, I WOULD HAVE THOUGHTS LIKE 'YOU HAVE PEOPLE WAITING ON YOU TO DO THEIR REQUESTS, WHY AREN'T YOU DOING IT?' 'YOU SHOULD DELETE THE BLOG, YOU KEEP DISAPPEARING SO WHY SHOULD YOU KEEP IT?' I COUNTER THESE THOUGHTS BY REASSURING MYSELF THAT I'M 'BUSY' WITH SCHOOL, THAT I'M HAVING A 'BURNOUT' AND THAT IT'S ALRIGHT TO KEEP THE BLOG AS IT IS. I DON'T FEEL BETTER REGARDLESS BUT IT HELPS FROM KEEPING ME DOING STUPID LIKE NUKING THE ENTIRE BLOG AND REGRETTING IT AFTER IT'S ONLY REALIZE HOW MUCH PEOPLE LOVED MY WORKS BECAUSE AN IRL MUTUAL OF MINE TOLD ME THAT SHE GAVE A LINK OF A WORK I DID TO A FRIEND, THAT SAID FRIEND LOVED THAT WORK TO BITS AND I QUOTE "THIS WRITER IS SO GOOD! I WISH THAT THEY WOULD CONTINUE ON WITH THIS PIECE!". THAT ALONE, STOPPED MY IMPULSIVE THOUGHTS OF DELETING THE BLOG. IT MADE ME REALIZE THAT SHE, LIKE MANY OTHERS, THOROUGHLY ENJOY READING MY WORKS. IT FILLS ME UP WITH JOY, GIDDINESS EVEN THAT PEOPLE GET HAPPY OVER MY WORKS. I FEEL LIKE THAT CONTRIBUTES TO THE MANY DISAPPEARING ACTS I'VE DONE, IT'S BECAUSE I DON'T WANT ANY OF YOU, MY DARLINGS, TO BE UNSATISFIED WITH WHAT I'M WRITING. IT'S A TERRIBLE LOOP I CONFESS, I PLACE AN UNREACHABLE GOAL ON MYSELF AND IF I DON'T ACHIEVE IT, I GET SO UPSET WITH MYSELF THAT I JUST RESORT INTO ANOTHER 'DISAPPEARING ACT' IT'S SAFE TO SAY THAT I CONCOCTED UP A SOLUTION FOR THAT….I THINK?
WHAT I'LL BE DOING WITH BLOG
I WON'T BE DELETING THE BLOG! THAT, I ASSURE YOU IS A PERMANENT DECISION I'VE PLACED ON MYSELF. I KNOW THE FEELING OF DISTRESS WHEN A FAVOURITE WORK OF YOURS GETS DELETED OR THE AUTHOR JUST WENT UP AND DEACTIVATE THEIR BLOG THUS LOSING ACCESS TO THEIR WORK AND I DON'T WANT MY DARLINGS TO GET THAT FEELING! EVER! THE BLOG WILL GET OCCASSIONAL THEME CHANGES BASED ON MY MOODS OR TASTE SO THERE'S THAT!
REMOVAL/WITHDRAWAL OF CERTAIN FANDOMS
I WILL PERMANENTLY STOP WRITING FOR SOME FANDOMS SINCE I FELT LIKE I'M DOING THE FANDOMS UNJUST BECAUSE I'M NOT MAKING ANY WORKS FOR IT. ON ANOTHER NOTE, POSTED WORKS FROM LISTED FANDOMS (THAT WILL BE STOPPED/SEMI-ONGOING) WILL NOT BE DELETED! THEY WILL CONTINUE TO STAY UP BUT THEY WON'T BE UP FOR REQUEST ANYMORE. THIS ALSO INCLUDES MASTERLISTS FOR THE LISTED FANDOMS. BE SURE TO READ MY PINNED POST FOR ANY REQUESTING DETAILS!
PERMANENTLY STOPPED
ARKNIGHTS
ONGOING (UNLIKELY UPDATES)
TWISTED WONDERLAND, GENSHIN IMPACT, ALCHEMY STARS
AT THE END OF A RAINSTORM, THERE'S BOUND TO BE A RAINBOW! SO CONSIDERING THAT I'VE STOPPED WRITING FOR SOME FANDOMS, I'LL BE ADDING NEW FANDOMS AS WELL! TAKE NOTE THAT MY CURRENT FIXATION IS SPREAD OUT MESSILY SO THERE'S A CHANCE THAT THESE FANDOMS MIGHT NOT BE OPEN FOR REQUESTS. I WILL EXPLAIN MORE IN THE NEXT POINT BUT FOR NOW, I'LL RELEASE THE (POSSIBLE) FANDOMS I'LL BE WRITING FOR
(POSSIBLE) FANDOMS I'LL BE WRITING:
JOJO'S BIZZARE ADVENTURE ( PART 1, 2, 3, 4 )
FIRE EMBLEM THREE HOUSES
FINAL FANTASY 15/XV
POKEMON SWSH
CONCERNS FOR REQUESTS
I WILL BE REDUCING THE AMOUNT OF REQUESTS AND NOT OPEN THEM AS REGULARLY AS BEFORE. IN ADDITION OF REDUCED REQUESTS, I WILL NOT BE ACCEPTING REQUESTS FOR CERTAIN FANDOMS BUT STILL PRODUCE WORKS ON IT. THIS IS BECAUSE I WANT TO AVOID HAVING TO FEEL THAT WRITING A PIECE OF WORK IS A CHORE. I WANT TO MAKE WRITING SOMETHING THAT I CAN LET MY CREATIVE JUICES FLOW AND NOT SOMETHING THAT IS RESTRICTED AND OBLIGATORY TO DO EVERY DAY. THE CURRENT REQUESTS IN MY INBOX WILL BE WIPED COMPLETELY. FOR REQUESTS THAT HAVE MADE IT INTO DRAFTS, THEY WILL POSTED SOON! I JUST NEED TO TIDY UP SOME PARTS BEFORE THEY'RE READY FOR PUBLIC VIEW
POSTING SCHEDULE FOR POSTS
I'M GOING TO SAY THIS OFF THE BAT THAT THERE'S GOING TO BE NO SCHEDULE. I'LL BE POSTING MY WORKS WHEN I'M AVAILABLE OR WHEN I'M FEELING LIKE IT. I WON'T PROMISE THAT THERE'S GOING TO BE ANOTHER GOOD STREAK OF DAILY POSTING OR WEEKLY POSTING BECAUSE HOW FICKLE MY LIFE IS BUT I'LL TRY TO MY BEST TO POST AT LEAST SOMETHING ONCE IN A BLUE MOON, TO LET ALL OF MY DARLINGS KNOW THAT I'M STILL KICKING
I WANT TO SAY THANK YOU. TO EVERY SINGLE ONE OF YOU, FROM THE BOTTOM OF MY HEART. FOR STAYING WITH ME FOR SO LONG AND SUPPORT ME DESPITE OF MY MISTAKES. FOR READING THIS POST UNTIL THE VERY END. I JUST HOPE THAT I'LL BE MORE KINDER TO MYSELF AND THAT I'LL BE ABLE TO BRING JOY TO YOUR LIVES ONCE MORE, EVEN IF JUST A LITTLE BIT
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chidoroki · 8 months
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182 Days of TPN - Day 168
Chapter 168: "Dad"
I know this is the same room Isabella & Peter were seen having their discussion in back during ch165, but to just have two plain chairs in such a large, empty room seems so extra. Regardless of that, I do like the panel of the trio here, even though they're surprised to find no one here due to the fake footage Peter fooled Vincent with that lead them there.
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Dunno how all the kiddos are hearing Peter's message since the teams seem to only have one person with a communication device but whatever. Perhaps he's speaking loud enough for everyone to hear.
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Although I have a hard time believing the Ratri men were able to tie up the Adam clones without a fight, I guess anyone will yield once you hold them at gunpoint. Also, the absence of Hayato in this panel is a nice hint to his role next chapter.
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While the demon guards don't cause much of a problem during the rest of the story, it still would've been better if the kids killed them off instead of put them to sleep. I get that they didn't wanna kill if they didn't have to, but it would've been one less thing to worry about. Hearing about Sonju & Mujika's execution definitely adds to the stress. Not as much as their deaths could have, but we're thankful Peter was stupid enough to actually wait three days.
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Along with all the citizens who drank the evil blood being killed, the Ratri clan and the higher-up demons taking control of the government, let's add the plan to assemble a ton of new Lambda farm into the mix as well. Talk about a big time panic. The premium farms don't sound so bad now huh?
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Oh Vincent, you dunno these kids as well as you thought if you honestly believe they would shoot the adults in front of them. Emma, Ray, Don & Gillian couldn't manage to fire a shot at Andrew back when he held Dominic & Alicia hostage after the shelter raid. You're best bet would've been Oliver. This goes back to that old post of mine wondering who, among the kids, would be able to shoot at another human, but I still believe Ray could manage it, if only as a last resort.
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The thought of Norman firing at another person was always a toss up for me though. Of course he showed no mercy towards demons during this WM phase, so even with the clear difference between demon and human, I wouldn't have been completely surprised if that cold persona of his came back with a vengeance once he heard Vincent get shot. Peter's been a thorn in Norman side ever since Lambda, so having this bastard personally hurt one of his friends just adds fuel to the fire. Norman (& Ray) did often mention taking down Isabella & Krone back during their GF days if they wanted to escape successfully, so they have level of brutality, it's just been real lowkey. Thankfully none of the children need to get blood on their hands. They've suffered enough already.
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Please never say those words with your mouth. No one in this world considers you as that.
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Hell yeah Oliver, let him know what's up!! I love that he, Zack & Gillian feel so strongly about the word "dad" because of the relationship they had with Lucas. The same can be said about Ayshe & her father but I can ramble more about all that next chapter.
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Favorite panel/moment:
If you've been around me for a while, then you already know how damn hilarious this panel of Norman is to me.
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I mean, in context, it's pretty serious, but thanks to a silly edit I've made years ago, I can't look at this panel anymore and not laugh like an idiot. So, now's the perfect time to upgrade it from a noticeable bad edit I made in the car on my phone once upon a time to something more worthy to use every time I lose my mind.
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