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#he was the highlight of eternals
mars-ipan · 1 year
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baby’s first babygirl
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bagel-gay · 7 months
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did i spend over an hour today watching 79 skz music videos to see exactly how many times Seungmin has had non-brown hair? yes.
do i regret it? absolutely not.
and here are the results!
since his hair is usually the same, i just broke it down to 4 categories:
brown - 67 / 84.9%
black - 8 / 10.1%
blonde - 1 / 1.2%
fashion colour - 3 / 3.8%
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lucky-draws · 2 months
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sketchbook doodles
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nakamatoo · 6 months
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I'm actually really happy they extended Armin and Eren's final conversation in the anime and think it flows infinitely better than it did in the manga, but I also liked how it highlighted a very important aspect of Eren's character that alot of people in the fandom forget.
Above all else, Eren is a slave to his own childish nature and selfishness that stems from his need to be free. Regardless of how much freedom he will take away from others.
As much as he want's to believe that he committed such atrocities for the sake of his loved ones, it doesn't change the fact that he still put them all in danger, and people he cared about still died in the process. In the end everything that happened was because he was a slave to his own nature. His own selfishness to be "free" no matter who he had to hurt.
And that's the tragedy of his character, the moment he realizes this, it absolutely destroys him.
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I also love how Armin's way of comforting Eren is way better than in the manga. He doesn't try to make him feel better over his actions or make him find some comfort from the results of those action, but instead he tells him that even if he'll find eternal damnation after he dies, he won't be alone. Armin will share that burden with him and follow him into hell after he is gone. His own sins are intertwined with his best friends, and he'll make sure that even in hell they will always be connected.
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taetr4ck · 15 days
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connected
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bang chan x reader, 0.4k words, no warnings — fluff, comfort. taglist form.
a/n : made a little comfort fic for those who needed it :) i hope you enjoy 💌
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“Ah.” 
Chan smiles at the scene before him. It left him in a stupor when no one responded to him after he called your name several times upon arriving at the doorstep earlier, assuming you'd already slept. He swears he feels his heart melt after seeing you in a state like this, your head resting under your arm, with papers, pens, and highlighters scattered all over your desk. Your tablet is still on, playing faint music that seemed to disconnect from your headphones earlier. He feels his heart might burst right at this moment after seeing the title of the song playing on the lock screen of your tablet — connected.
“I think I might pass out right at this spot,” he says to himself. There's something lovely about your disheveled state. The bare, vulnerable side you show him every time you find yourself in a state like this – eyes all baggy and hair still messy from yesterday. He's convinced of the depth of your trust, seeing how willingly you reveal your vulnerable side to him – and all he desires is to shield you and tenderly care for you each time you reveal this part of yourself. He would stand in the shadows of your heart and tell you he’s not afraid of your dark.
He gently lifts you from your chair, carrying you to the shared bed. You almost stir awake, but he tries his best not to wake you up.
“Shh, love, it’s me. You’re okay. You fell asleep at the desk,” Chan gently calms you down – and you swear his voice resonates like a melody played by the angels themselves.
“What… what time is it?” you rub your eyes, your voice still coated with sleep.
“Time for you to sleep,” he smiles softly, leading both of you to the bedroom.
He then gently lays you on the soft mattress of the cozy bed, where the two of you share your most affectionate moments, reminding you of the constancy of his love. He tenderly covers you with the comforting sheets of the duvet, feeling your soul sink into the embrace of the bed. You swear you've never felt such serenity before, longing for this moment to last an eternity.
“I’ll clean your desk tomorrow, so don’t worry about anything.” Chan gently pulls you closer, running his fingers through your hair as he wraps his arms around your waist.
He gazes at your sleeping face, all peaceful and serene. A smile tugs at his lips as he slowly contemplates what he did to deserve someone like you in his arms, in his life, even. He presses a tender kiss to your forehead, fingers tracing your side. Soon after, he joins you in dreamland.
“Jalja, baby.”
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taglist : @agi-ppangx @bluethemoments @ashracha @wonootnoot @skzstarnet @straykidsland @k-labels
⋆ taetr4ck, est may 2023. / requests open
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lancermylove · 1 month
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Gifts (HC)
Fandom: Twisted Wonderland
Pairing: All x gn!Reader, minus Ortho.
Warning: None.
Prompt: His white day gift to you.
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Malleus
Malleus gifts you a bouquet of red crystal roses. Each flower is gracefully carved from red crystals, and the base stem and leaves are gilded in 24-karat gold.
His gift is meant to symbolize eternal love. He even takes it a step further by saying, "My love for you shall remain until the roses wither."
Lilia
If you are of age, he will gift you a bottle of aged wine.
If not, he will give you a bottle of juice as a joke just to see your reaction. Then, laugh and hand you a luxurious box of heart-shaped chocolates.
Silver
Silver hands you a white velvet box containing a necklace. The necklace has a pure silver base with a white iridescent opal pendant surrounded by diamonds.
Unknown to you, the necklace is actually a gift passed down to the woman in his family as a symbol of being part of his family. Congratulations, he indirectly proposed to you, and you accepted. Lilia is looking forward to the wedding.
Sebek
Gifts you an oversized white teddy bear with a red plaid ribbon around its neck. The teddy bear has a red heart on the left side of its chest.
He practically shoves it in your hands and looks away, not knowing what to say. He hopes that when you miss him, you will hug the teddy bear.
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Riddle
Riddle goes through a list of gifts, not knowing which one to give you. He thinks jewelry, then switches to chocolates, but then feels too much sugar is not good.
So, he sticks with a traditional gift: a bouquet of white roses with red trim neatly held together by silver ribbons.
Ace
He goes all out for the gift and makes you a custom deck of playing cards, which are actually 52 reasons why he likes you. Each card has something he likes about you, from your appearance to your personality to the cute things you do that make him smile.
The gift is thoughtful, but part of you wonders why he chose to go all out. Did he do something? Something is definitely fishy.
Deuce
He gives you a white envelope with a lopsided heart drawn on the flap on the back. Inside the envelope is a heartfelt hand-written letter expressing his feelings. There are many scribbles, and apologies for the scribbles between the words, but you can tell each word holds meaning.
Along with the letter is a white ribbon that he wraps around your wrist and ties into an uneven bow.
Trey
He bakes you a cake with ingredients that he grew and harvested himself. And for the ones he bought, he made sure to purchase the finest ingredients.
The cake is layered with fluffy sponges, moistened with vanilla bean syrup, filled with a rich mascarpone and white chocolate blend, and enveloped in a silky white chocolate ganache. On top of the cake are rare white strawberries, highlighted with edible gold leaf and crushed pearls.
Cater
The first thing Cater does is check the internet for the most trending gifts for White Day. He narrows it down to a few gifts and eventually buys matching phone cases for the two of you.
The cases are white with pink, clear, and red crystals. He warns you to be careful with the case in the sunlight. Cater accidentally temporarily blinded Ace and Deuce by holding the case in the sunlight facing them. The shimmer of the crystals was too intense for the troublemaker duo.
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Leona
Literally walks into a designer store and chooses the first thing that catches his eye. One can never go wrong with a scarf, right?
The white piped trim bandeau scarf is made of pure silk and has the designer's name monogrammed at the base of one of the ends.
Ruggie
Ruggie learns some recipes from his grandmother and cooks a meal for you. He tries to get the best ingredients he can, with the help of the garden club, so he can give you a decent quality meal.
The recipes are not fancy, nor is the plating, but he put a lot of effort into making it, so he hopes you like it.
Jack
He struggles to find a gift for you, and his siblings give him a few ideas, but none of them sit with him.
Jack gifts you a cactus terrarium with rare, colorful cacti arranged in a heart shape. But in case you don't like the gift, he also hands you a small box with a silver charm bracelet.
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Vil
Vil contemplates gifting you apparel or something fashion-related. However, he thinks clothes and accessories wouldn't convey his message properly.
So, he settles for a hand-held mirror. The mirror is made of 24-karat gold with diamonds surrounding the edges. An intricate rose is carved on the back of the mirror, with the stem and leaves curving around the base.
He wants you to know that no gold or diamonds can match your beauty.
Rook
Rook sets up a scavenger hunt for you with some of the most beautiful locations on the campus, where he hides the next clue. The end of the scavenger hunt leads to a picturesque picnic spot in the middle of the woods near a waterfall.
He recites a romantic poem for you, half in English, half in French. Then, the two of you enjoy snacks and talk for a while. Rook hands you a bouquet of white roses with one red rose in the center. The white roses represent your beautiful soul, and the red rose is your priceless heart.
Epel
Epel learns how to knit and crochet from his grandmother so that he can make you a handmade gift for White Day. He can't pick a design, so his grandmother tells him to just follow his heart and not overthink.
He knits you a scarf, using your favorite color as a base. Inside the curves of the scarf, which will be hidden around your neck, are the words "I love you." Epel hides those words on the inside of the scarf because they are meant for you, not the world.
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Azul
Azul wants to give you a physical gift but thinks that everyone gives physical gifts, so it's better to do something different.
In the end, he takes you to one of the finest restaurants under the sea, literally. You dine with sea creatures, trying out their unique and exclusive dishes.
Jade
At first, he is tempted to give you a mushroom terrarium but gives into his better judgment and gives you something you might like.
Jade presents you with a beautiful floral arrangement. The bouquet is thoughtfully arranged, and each flower symbolizes his feelings and love for you. Roses show his passion for you. Gerbera daisies represent the playful side you bring out in him and the joy you make him feel when he is with you. Alstroemerias show his care and support for you—know he will be there for you when you need him to. Lastly, Gladiolus represents his eternal love for you and his faithfulness towards you.
Floyd
He doesn't know what to get you, and his mood changes every time he decides on the 'right' gift. In the end, he gets frustrated and decides to just spend time with you in a fun place.
Floyd takes you to an amusement park. The two of you have fun, and he gets to spend the entire day with you.
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Idia
His initial idea is something video game-related, but Ortho advises against it. He gives Idia a lecture about finding a meaningful gift.
So, Idia builds and programs a cell phone for you that has some of the most advanced features known to men. The phone makes your life easier - almost to the point that you think it, and the phone has it. With that phone, you might as well change your name to 007.
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Kalim
When you arrive in your room, you freeze. Your entire room is filled with gift boxes, and Kalim is sitting in the center, grinning.
He didn't know what to get you and ended up getting you everything on the list, from chocolates to jewelry to teddy bears to clothes to handbags to you name it. It will take you about a day or two to open all the gifts. Good luck finding space for everything in your room and closet!
Jamil
Jamil knows from the start that he wants to give you something meaningful. The entire day is supposed to be special, so he doesn't want to give you a present and call it a day.
In the morning, he brings you breakfast that he cooked. Then, gives you a bouquet of flowers. In the afternoon, he hands you a neatly wrapped gift box with a white ribbon tied around it. Inside is traditional wear from Scalding Sands, but the patterns on the apparel are exclusive to his family. Another one indirectly proposes to you. Congrats!
In the evening, he has a candlelight dinner with countless dishes that he prepared himself.
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➣ Twisted Wonderland [1][2] ➣ Main Masterlist
➣ Buy me a Ko-fi? ➣ Commission: Open ➣ HC/Scenario Requests: Closed || Quick Ask Requests: Closed || GIF Requests: Closed
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taylorswiftstyle · 4 months
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2024 Golden Globe Awards | Los Angeles, CA | January 7, 2024
Gucci gown
Let it be known my Roman Empire is painted a shade of aurora borealis green. 
I’m biased. I love it. You’re buckling up for a rave. But everyone knew that, right? 
I want it on record that no one should be surprised when they see this lewk on the TSS Favourite Outfits of 2024 list. And that I’ll devise some maniacal strategy to make it make sense to include in every annual list from here to eternity.
Let's get the obvious out of the way in that this shade of green could easily be interpreted as very snakelike and thus a nod to reputation and its forthcoming re-recorded version. I'd even happily apply it to the teal-y and springlike green of debut if we want to go debutation on this.
But if we are to talk about Gucci we have to talk about the precipice the house is upon right now. As it relates to Taylor, I suspect her dress (specific shade TBD - Chartreuse? Apple? Pear? Some other adjacent fruit that’s a feast for my eyes?) is a preview of Fall 2024 and a clear indicator of the path the new creative director Sabato De Sarno’s will take the brand in. Which is to say, muting the eccentricity of Alessandro Michele’s era of Gucci that brought the brand to a new level of renown in favour of something cleaner and sexier. Nicole Phelps for Vogue already noted that De Sarno’s first collection for Gucci — Spring 2024’s Ancora, meaning ‘again’ in English and released in September — evokes a Gucci when Tom Ford was once at the helm, praising De Sarno’s approach to “the upfront sex appeal of those ’60s-by-way-of-the-’90s shapes, and straight riffs on Ford hits” while “establish[ing De Sarno’s] essentials, focusing on cut and proportion, and repeating shapes for emphasis.”
Indeed, Taylor’s gown is directly reminiscent of a Fall 2004 look from Ford’s Gucci - all green sparkles and sexy disco energy. This makes sense when we consider De Sarno’s history and homeworking when he decided to take the creative director post. He told WWD, “Gucci to me equals luxury … the first fashion piece I ever owned was a Gucci jacket by Tom Ford. I still remember I traveled to Rome to buy it with my friend … luxury was really not part of our world. Television was the only way to see fashion for me back then.” He added, “My ambition is to build an aesthetic message with an edited collection that is mindful of Gucci’s heritage and close to my own aesthetics.”
When we consider my personal history with Taylor and Gucci, I don’t have to look very far to immediately picture one of my all time favourite Taylor looks — the 2014 Grammys when she wore a sparkling Gucci Première column gown which is not too dissimilar to this one. What can I say, I’m consistent. The shape, the perfect kiss-the-floor hemming, and obviously the divine colour that really pops on Taylor will have me swooning for a long time. 
At the end of it all, what I come back to is De Sarno’s sentimentality to naming his first collection: Ancora. Again. He told WWD, “Ancora is a word that you use when your desire is not over yet … I want to fall in love with fashion all over again — ancora.” In the same interview he said, “I like words a lot, they have weight and a precise meaning, they convey emotions, so I like artists who use words.” 
It dawns on me that Taylor’s light is shining at its brightest now as she highlights, celebrates, and - indeed - falls in love with all the versions of herself she has ever been. Revisiting her eras past again. And again. In every re-record. In every step she takes on stage. In every cutting line she writes in ruminating and revisiting the experiences of her life and translating them into song. She’s flitting, flirting, memorializing all her past selves in celebration of their summation of her current self. And that’s what this ‘era of eras’ has been. 
So if this is De Sarno’s Gucci I say welcome. Ancora. 
Photos by Monica Schipper/GA and Amy Sussman via Getty Images
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leclsrc · 1 year
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wait and see ✴︎ cl16
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genre: enemies to lovers, fluff, angst barely, other drivers appear
word count: 2.5k
The grid recounts the evolution, nature, and many ups and downs of your and Charles' vague relationship.
auds here... req'd, this was p fun to write i hope u guys like it! :) short bec if it was any longer it wouldnt have been as nice to read i think? anyway... i love u guys. title from this.
Lando takes a seat. “Is this the thingy for…? Yeah? Okay. What am I supposed to do again?”
“Just describe the two of them.”
“Easy. She was always pissing him off.” He rubs his chin, lost in thought. “But… in a good way?”
“I told you a hundred times I didn’t want this to be the soundbite you published.” Charles chases after you, his footsteps quickening like a lost puppy as you wrestle your way into the media pen. “A hundred times, and you said okay, and you still published it. Che succede?”
You turn, crossing your arms over your torso. “Look. I said yes, but when I looked it over, nothing else you said was really worth it. It was all just repetitions of the same PR bullshit that makes you look good on camera.”
He rakes a hand through his hair, exhaling with frustration, watching his biting comment on Iñaki rack up hundreds of thousands of views. “This was not a good idea!” He repeats, the same sentiment he’s been telling you in the half-hour he’s known of this video’s publicity.
“But it happened.” You adjust your mic and gesture to Lando, who’s awkwardly waiting for the cameras to roll so you can start the post-FP2 interview and he can talk about his shit car. “I’m busy, so deal with it. Your fans will appreciate you not riding Ferrari’s dick all the time.”
Charles opens his mouth to argue, but shuts it, shoving his way back outside and into the motorhome so he can cooperate in damage control. He doesn’t admit it—to you, to Carlos, to anyone—but the PR that comes of it is more good than it is bad in the end. He doesn’t admit it because it means admitting you’re right, and God if that’s the last thing he’ll ever do.
“They were always butting heads,” George says, laughing as he soaks in the memories of it. “Always fighting over something. Anything. Whatever there was that could be disagreed on—they’d be disagreeing.”
It started harmlessly enough. Seb walked in with two swatches of color—a blue and a purple—and addressed the room with a light tone, asking what color would best suit the tablecloths at his wedding. And then, as it always did with you and Charles, chaos ensued.
“Blue suits green better.” You wave the blue in his face. “You’re busy thinking of red all the time so you don’t understand color theory.”
“It’s not about coordination! It’s about creating a highlight!” He gestures with his hands, aggressively gesticulating to try and get his point across. “Highlight!”
“Oh, bullshit! Blue!”
“Purple!”
“Are you crazy?!”
Across the room, Seb and George watch in mild horror at the two figures caught in a needlessly intense argument over colors at a wedding that isn’t even theirs.
An AlphaTauri engineer comes in to refill his coffee for the third time, finds the two of you still fighting and is genuinely stupefied. He turns to the two onlookers, asks, “Bridezilla, huh? Happened to me once, too. I swear the grooms always try to weasel their way in to seem more involved but their choices never make sense.”
“Oh, no. They, uh, they’re not together.” George clarifies quickly.
“They’re not?!” The engineer and Seb ask at the same time.
They all watch the argument, bemused, but secretly they all wonder just how correct George is.
“We have a saying in Spanish. Del amor al odio hay un paso. Neither of them will understand it—it’s in Spanish, obviously—but I think that applies to them. One minute you think they hate each other, and the next…” Carlos lets himself taper into silence, smiling softly.
Being around Charles feels like karmic retribution, a constant eternal push and pull. But it makes the both of you better, even if neither of you admit it in the end. You can’t really grasp why, or how it started—it might take ages if you do so much as try—but you’re content with letting things happen the way they do.
Or maybe you’re not. “You ruined my fucking broadcast, dickhead!”
You toss your earpiece at his chest, body welling up with annoyance. Your segment was being casted live until Charles insisted he take up your airtime to do whatever-the-fuck, you honestly don’t care. And yeah, sure, he’s way more relevant, but the less airtime you get, the less easily you get the exposure you need.
“It happened one time.” He sounds amused, and it patronizes you, sets you on fire. He clutches your earpiece to his chest and hands it back to you.
“Fuck you.” You tug it toward yourself, and suddenly you’re closer, noses almost touching. You step back, but it’s not enough. “You have no idea how much that mattered to me.”
His eyes flit toward your lips, your bodies melting together. “If it really did…” he says, inhaling, “you would’ve just ignored me.” And damn, he’s right.
Charles does not like you. He just knows you well. But then one might argue—isn’t that the same thing?
“They have trouble not calling the shots, is the thing,” Lewis offers. “So put them in a team, in a room together, and boom.”
“…We didn’t agree on this script.” You underline the problematic lines and toss it onto Charles’ lap from where you stand in front of the sofa. “You want your fans to hate you?”
“The questions were clumsy. I asked you to reword them, but you didn’t.”
“You didn’t ask, to be clear. You demanded.” You click your tongue.
Lewis is in the middle of posting on Roscoe’s Instagram account and manually making typos, but he looks up, interest piqued by the increasingly heated conversation.
“I asked,” Charles insists stubbornly. “Plus, this is a Ferrari segment. You get hired to write on Ferrari, you follow Ferrari.” He points to the yellow logo on his shirt. Ferrari, he mouths. Lewis stifles a chuckle at the sarcastic exchange.
“Jesus.” You reread the script. “Fine. I’ll reword this and this.”
“And that.” He points, tapping the paper.
“Only if you edit this and this. Oh, God, and this.”
“Fine. Wait, that?”
“Are you serious? It’s the corniest statement ever. Edit that or I edit nothing.”
“Okay, bossy.”
Lewis exits Instagram in favor of texting Seb to ask if you two are dating. The response he receives is equally unhelpful: Nobody knows mate.
“You know, for all the disagreeing they did, they actually agreed on so much of the same stuff. If they stopped fighting for two seconds they would agree on most things.” Alex muses. “But they never did, so. Or maybe a few times.”
Media is a tricky thing. It’s either on your side, or it isn’t.
And this weekend, Charles has drawn the short straw, subjected to bouts of backhanded journalists and tweets for his strategy during quali. You know this especially well—you’re media, for Christ’s sake—and you’ve seen your colleagues hound Charles for how he chose to tackle the session.
Alex is in the middle of a FaceTime call with Lily when he hears it. “Wait—I think they’re talking,” he says to his girlfriend when he hears you approach him, carefully maneuvering himself into optimal eavesdropping position.
“Is this the right thing to do?” Lily’s voice comes through like static.
“I know it’s wrong,” Alex confesses. “But—”
“No, I meant I can’t hear properly. Move the phone closer, you dick.”
So he does, and the two of them listen intently to your talk. You go first, a few shuffling footsteps and an adjustment of your media pass, then. “Will’s been all over you today.”
“Yeah,” comes Charles’ voice, tired if anything. “I, uh… I just hope I can understand where I went wrong and, uh. Well, uh.”
“No, I…” There’s heavy silence. “I think you did the right thing. You didn’t get pole, but it was a good strategy. Better than what was being proposed, anyway. I think that would’ve landed you at the back of the grid, to be honest.”
You both laugh. “Thanks,” he croaks.
“You did great. Don’t, um… don’t let them tell you otherwise. I’m proud of you.”
Alex never tells anybody what he heard. But it inspires many long-winded conversations with Lily about the nature of your relationship. Each time, though, they never arrive to a solid answer.
“Hey, listen. I always knew something was there with those two. They had the kind of dynamic you only find once in, like, a million instances.” Daniel says firmly. “But I also kept thinking… poor Charlotte.”
You’re half-sure Pierre was the one who bought you all shots. Or a quarter-sure. Okay, you’re not sure at all. Your mind’s cloudy, your inhibitions lowered, tongue loose and laugh contagious. Around the table everyone is laughing, some others have gotten up to dance, but you, Daniel, Lewis, and Charles are all conversing about work, albeit while drunk.
“Is… tequila… plant-based?” Lewis grimaces as he throws another shot back and you all laugh mindlessly.
“Danny,” you say, tapping his shoulder. “Any plans once you’re out of the paddock next season?”
“Ah,” he hums. “Self-discovery and a shit ton of shrooms.”
You all cheers to the epiphany, shots once again entering your system. “And a party again tomorrow!” Daniel adds half-jokingly, much to your delight. Charles, right beside you, throws an arm over your shoulder as he laughs. You’re unfazed.
Daniel’s gaze lingers on his arm a little too long, especially because your own hand reaches upward to wrap around his wrist, to make sure he doesn’t pull away. But you’re both drunk, he reasons. And plus, you can’t usually stand each other’s guts.
“I’ll pass, mate, if it happens,” Charles says, his tone clearly inebriated.
“You’re no fun,” you say lightly, laughing and turning to him. Your eyes are on the other’s, dark, lips almost touching as if you’ve forgotten Daniel and Lewis are even around (though the latter is as good as dead, honestly.)
“Invite Charlotte instead,” Daniel says with a smile, to try and test your reactions. “How long, now? Three months?”
You clear your throat, looking away with a faux smile.
“Oh. We’re not doing so well, to be honest.” Charles smiles, tight-lipped. He hopes Daniel doesn’t ask why. He can’t think of a lie quickly enough to cover how Charlotte told him I love you, Charles, but this is over. I hope you end up with her someday.
Seb takes some time to think about it. “Those two always fought. Everyone said that, didn’t they? All the time, disagreeing.” He hums. “I could tell very early, though, that they were also the only two who could truly understand the other. Figuratively, obviously—but as a result, also literally.”
“Elaborate?”
“When you understand someone that well, inside and out, you end up understanding everything they say.” Seb smiles. “That was them, I think.”
“It’s impossible to transcribe your interviews,” Will says to Charles. It’s that hour on the paddock where everyone’s waiting for the pre-race bustle to start, so small talk is what’s keeping them busy.
You’re reviewing a few clips from practice on your phone and Seb is chipping into the conversation, which has moved from Mick’s future to F1 into Sky Sports into this.
“What do you mean?” Charles asks.
“You’re always sliding in and out of your three languages!” The Englishman laughs. “I have to consult a native speaker of both Italian and French each time. And you’re always going I, I, I, or we, we, we… but hey, the fans dig it, innit?”
“I think I sound perfectly understandable.” Charles smiles. You’re still busy, unfocused on the conversation at present.
“Like, okay. Look at this.” Will retrieves his phone, opens his voice memos app, and plays one of the audio recordings there. It’s a scratchy one of Charles describing his quali session, and sure enough, even if he’s speaking straight English, the adrenaline and exhaustion have him sounding totally indecipherable.
We—we had gasjdhfhs and I, I, I… I think we need to rejshdhs and thijsjsh about the hsfhdh, yeah? And, and, uh, we ajhshajs. And
Will closes it. “Sebastian, can you tell me that said?”
He shrugs, amused. “Sorry, Charles. I genuinely can’t.”
“See?!” Will makes a voila motion. “Nobody understands this.”
“He said we had good traction and I think we need to recalibrate and think about the boxing strategy, yeah? And we need that mindset.” You’re still going over your phone, busy and not 100% invested. “You two just aren’t listening.”
Charles doesn’t take his eyes off you, or the smile off his face, the whole hour.
Pierre comes last, clearing his throat. He’s ready. He knows exactly what to say, so he says it. “Those two are fucking soulmates.”
It’s three-thirty when somebody knocks on your hotel room.
But your body still feels like it’s five in the evening, your brain’s stuck at two in the afternoon, and your sleep schedule thinks it’s nine in the morning, so you’re not asleep but instead rewriting notes from the weekend prior.
You’re horribly disoriented when you grab your pepper spray and unlatch the door, and even more disoriented when you see Charles on the other side of it.
“Am I crazy?” He asks, breathless, like he’s been waiting for you all his life. Maybe he has.
“You’re at my hotel room at three a.m., so… a bit.” You rub sleepiness and jetlag out of your eyes. “Charles, what’s going on?”
“I love you.” There it is. “It sounds so stupid. But I love you. And it’s almost—I can’t bear it. I woke up this morning? You, on my mind. Lights go off after a race? You. I go to sleep? You. It’s always you. And I know, I know it’s—I know, with Charlotte, and—but it’s true. I, I, I—I think about you every minute. And usually this happens accidentally. Nous sommes tous des idiots quand il s’agit d’amour... moi y compris.
“But this was… I knew I was falling in love and I let it happen. And so I thought, why keep waiting? Why let it drag on and on and fight over and over when I can just come and tell you how much I—and maybe, hopefully, see if you feel the same?”
He pants, tired from his clearly rambled and unplanned confession.
“I love you, too,” you say, struck. Oh God.
“Can I kiss you, then?”
“It’s may,” you breathe. “May I kiss you.”
“You may,” he whispers.
“Right now?”
“Anytime.”
“So now.”
“It’s now or next Tuesday,” he jokes.
“Now is… the best. Now would do.”
“Now would do.” So you cross the threshold and let him scoop you into his arms so he can well and truly kiss you.
“Is that all?” The interviewer asks Pierre. “Just… those words? We need a bit more for the article on this event.”
“Oh, yeah.” He gets up, straightens his tie. “Don’t worry. You’ll hear the rest during my best man speech.”
Del amor al odio hay un paso – From love to hate, there is one step.
Nous sommes tous des idiots quand il s'agit d'amour... moi y compris – We are all fools in love... me included.
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thankskenpenders · 4 months
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Sonic Prime Season 3: Final episodes, final thoughts
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Well, here we are. The final seven episodes of Sonic Prime are out on Netflix, concluding the story of Sonic's adventures in the Shatterverse. I've previously shared my thoughts on the first and second seasons, which I was pretty mixed on, but there were still glimmers of hope. The fluid animation, Shadow being fun in all his appearances, Nine being fairly interesting as a jaded alternate version of Tails, etc. There was enough to make me believe that after some highs and lows there was still the possibility that this show could end on a high note - or at least a decent note.
This did not happen.
Sonic Prime's final season sucks. The ending sucks, and the road to get there sucks. It's left me wondering what the point of all this even was. There are still moments I like that I'll try to highlight, and the animators and voice cast are still clearly giving it their all, but these efforts sadly don't outweigh the overwhelming mediocrity of the story. I would barely even recommend other Sonic fans who are on the fence go out of their way to finish it. I won't begrudge people who got more out of this show than I did, but I think overall I just really, really dislike Sonic Prime.
...The problem, of course, is that all other discussion of the show has been overshadowed by needlessly hostile arguments over its place in Sonic's canon. So we've gotta talk about that, too.
(This post will contain full spoilers for Sonic Prime.)
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The show's out of ideas but they've gotta stretch that shit out to hit the 23 episode mark somehow
Season 2 ended with the big twist that Nine decided to betray Sonic and Shadow, taking the Paradox Prism for himself so that he could go turn the empty world of the Grim into his own little paradise, since he doesn't believe he'll fit anywhere else. Nine has made himself the true big bad of the show.
The main impact this has is that now, instead of fighting endless identical Eggforcer bots and members of the Chaos Council over and over, the good guys and the Chaos Council have to fight endless Chaos Sonic-style robots sent by Nine while he goes "grrrrr I need Sonic's energy to stabilize the Paradox Prism." This continues for six whole episodes until the series finale, when the show decides it's time for Sonic and Nine to quickly make amends, fix everything, and send Sonic and Shadow home.
That's pretty much the whole season.
I cannot emphasize enough just how much of this final season is just fight after fight after fight against Nine's bots, and how fucking boring that gets. The season feels like one long, drawn out final battle that did not need to be nearly this long, but Nine had his big heel turn 2/3 of the way through the show and we've gotta fill up the rest of the time somehow. The novelty of the bots being based off of Sonic's friends (including the Chocobo-sized Birdie from the jungle world) really wears off quickly when they're just used as generic, silent mooks that the good guys have to fight by the dozen like it's the climax of an MCU movie. The first episode of the season with Sonic and Shadow fighting the new bots is pretty good, especially because Sonic and Shadow's dynamic is one of the few redeeming aspects of this show's writing, but after that it just gets boring. Three full episodes in a row are spent showing all the characters fighting robots in an empty wasteland while Nine scowls next to a big beam of energy. I found myself missing the in-your-face attitude of Chaos Sonic so much. He truly was one of the best parts of this show.
While the cast is busy fighting all these robots for what feels like an eternity, various things of varying levels of interest happen. There's a halfhearted attempt to have some kind of rivalry between Shadow and the main Grim Sonic throughout the final battle, but it completely falls flat because Grim Sonic has no personality whatsoever. It's like Shadow beefing with an above-average Egg Pawn. (Actually, no, that would be funny.) There's also a death fakeout with the two other versions of Tails, where they make a makeshift bomb and throw it a little too close to themselves on the battlefield and seem to get vaporized. If they had actually died there they would have had the funniest, most pointless deaths in the entire franchise.
I also realized at one point that they were trying to do the Avengers girl power fight thing with the three versions of Amy fighting a bunch of Rouge bots. This was very funny to me. Actually, so much of this is just following the tired MCU formula to the letter. Fighting over a macguffin, two armies just kind of running at each other and clashing in a big empty field, constant one-liner quips instead of actual jokes, the need to take out key targets to make the whole enemy army disappear, a villain who has a point but has to randomly hurt people so that there's an excuse for the heroes to fight him. When combined with how shit the multiverse stuff is, this whole show really is just Man of Action tackling some of the most played out storytelling tropes in modern pop culture in the most bland way possible. What a bunch of hacks.
By far, the one truly fun thing that happens in this protracted final battle is when a giant robot based on Big appears. It doesn't have arms or legs, but it can swing itself around to use its tail like a giant mace, and it can also shoot Froggy-shaped missiles out of its mouth. I wish the rest of the show was even half as fun as this. Again, Sonic Prime has just enough good moments to make you mad that the rest of the show isn't better.
The thing is, all this repetitive (but well-animated) action and the thin excuse plot would be totally serviceable if I just gave a shit about the characters involved. But I don't. I don't care what happens to the pirate version of Amy who goes "arrr." I don't care about what happens to Hipster Eggman. And unfortunately, by the end, I didn't really care about Nine, either.
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Nine as a villain
It's hard to criticize the story here without it coming off as a broad condemnation of the tropes at play. The thing is, I like many stories that try to do similar things. I love clashes between heroes and villains that are really just fantastical exaggerations of more personal conflicts. I love stories where a tragic, sympathetic villain lashes out at the world as an expression of the pain they feel, and a compassionate hero just has to get through to them. I eat that shit right up. Undertale is my favorite game ever made. Shit, I love other Sonic stories that do these exact things. And Sonic having to fight an alternate timeline version of Tails also has so much potential for drama!
So I can very easily imagine a version of the show where all this works for me. That just isn't the version we got.
Like I said last time, Nine's motivation is just too sympathetic and understandable for his sudden turn to supervillainy to make any sense. He just wanted to start over somewhere where he can be happy after a childhood filled with bullying and loneliness. Nine betraying Sonic and stealing the Paradox Prism to go make his own world? That tracks! Especially since we don't even know if Nine will still exist if Sonic goes through with his plan to restore his original world! But trying to kill everyone in New Yolk City by tilting the world 90 degrees, intentionally targeting the civilian population because it'll get to Sonic? Nope! Sorry, that's a bridge too far. I don't buy it. He's jaded and antisocial, but he doesn't strike me as cruel. Writing in an excuse about him needing Sonic's energy to fix the Prism does not make this make more sense.
This was really just one of those conflicts where it felt like everyone should stop and talk it out. Instead we got six episodes of fighting before one of Sonic's many, MANY attempts at reasoning with Nine throughout the season finally works. This isn't me pulling some Cinema Sins bullshit where I complain about characters in a work of fiction not always behaving rationally - the real problem is that it's just so damn repetitive waiting for this conflict to resolve. This could have been wrapped up in two or three episodes and instead it takes seven.
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A brief aside about that weird Dorkly-ass Sonic Advance 3 flashback scene hacked together with mismatched sprites where Gemerl happens to be present, presumably just because he's a part of the sprite for the Sunset Hill boss, and seeing him briefly makes me remember the extended cast from the games and how much I wish they had just made a cartoon about them instead of a bunch of stock characters wearing the skin of Sonic's friends, but then Gemerl just explodes with the boss machine at the end while Eggman is shown to get away so I guess Gemerl just dies in this flashback
Yeah that sure happened huh
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The ending
Despite having a final battle that felt like an eternity, Sonic Prime is a show that just kind of... ends. And that ending is weird and haphazard.
The understanding I had was that Sonic's normal world had "shattered" when the Paradox Prism was destroyed, and from those remnants these new worlds were created. This is why they use terms like "Shatterverse" and "Shatterspaces" and why there's shattered glass/crystal/whatever imagery everywhere. This is a broken, fragmented version of the real universe. Right? Right?? Isn't that the entire premise of the show? And therefore, if the universe has been shattered, then fixing it means putting all the shattered pieces back together. Which I would assume means that the Shatterspaces cease to exist.
So, in the ending... Sonic's world seems to just exist as another Shatterspace. Restoring the Paradox Prism doesn't seem to combine the worlds or anything, it just fixes the broken portal to Sonic's world that exists alongside all the others. So... what exactly was the point of all the shattered glass symbolism?
Things only get more confusing as the ending progresses. Shadow brings Sonic through the portal before the draining of Sonic's whatever energy makes him disappear, and they're transported back in time to right before Sonic broke the Paradox Prism. Only Sonic seems to remember what happened (Shadow might remember, but he doesn't say anything), and with the Paradox Prism never shattered, it's unclear if the Shatterspaces exist now.
I'm not particularly hung up on the time loop ending. It's very much in line with all sorts of classic morality tales like A Christmas Carol or It's a Wonderful Life, where the flawed protagonist goes through some kind of magical experience and then returns home with a new appreciation for the people in their life. It's always been pretty obvious that was the type of story they were telling. I'm more bothered by the fact that there's no time whatsoever spent on whether or not the other worlds and the characters in them continue to exist. Sonic seems to act like the worlds will go on without him before he leaves, but it's not like we get an ending scene that shows how the other worlds are doing, so they really truly might as well not exist anymore. Sonic just wraps up the adventure from the first episode when he gets home, and before he can explain what happened from his perspective he's interrupted by a mysterious energy wave from off-screen and it's off to the next adventure.
(Despite this odd cliffhanger ending, the show is extremely over and not coming back. I have to imagine this is just a "the adventures never end" type ending and not a hint that more shit is going on with the Paradox Prism.)
This ending is also a terrible resolution to Nine's whole arc, despite him being the driving force of so much of the show. The way I see it, there are are three possible fates for him:
The Shatterspaces continue existing, and things go as Sonic expects them to go. Nine is allowed to make the Grim into his own little utopia, and everyone else leaves him alone instead of punishing him for all the trouble he caused. Instead of finding love and acceptance so he can heal from a lifetime of bullying and loneliness, Nine is allowed to run away, isolating himself from every other living being in the multiverse, and live alone as the god of an empty world with only his own creations as company. Sonic was his only friend, and he's gone forever now.
The Shatterspaces continue existing, but because of the time travel ending, most of the events of the show never happened. Sonic never helped defeat the Chaos Council, so they still control New Yolk City. Nine is back to living in this dystopian city with no friends. He never met Sonic.
The Shatterspaces have been erased. After fighting so hard for his right to exist as his own person and not just a "wrong" version of Tails, when the timeline is altered, he just... stops existing. Along with almost every other character in the show.
Do I even need to explain why these are all unsatisfying?
Misc. thoughts
I skimmed over this, but a lot of the final season is just spent seeing Sonic's friends bicker with the Chaos Council and then Sonic has to beg them to get along to save the universe. It gets old.
We also never really got an explanation for why the Chaos Council exists. They can't have come from other Shatterspaces because there ARE no other Shatterspaces. If the original Eggman was just split into five guys or time travel was involved or whatever, it never comes up. I can live with this, but it seems like an odd omission for a children's show that's constantly bogged down in technobabble explaining the mechanics of its extremely small and finite multiverse.
I have no idea where Shadow was for the first part of the final battle. I figured Nine must have captured him off-screen after Sonic first left the Grim, but Shadow was just... hanging around until his cue in the script, I guess?
Sonic saying "help a brother up" to Shadow was funny
Hipster Eggman pointing to one of the few nameless extras who tagged along for the final battle and going "Who are you? Seriously, does anyone know who this is?" was the only funny thing he did in the entire show
Mangy Tails randomly pressing buttons on the Chaos Council's generator like a curious animal and managing to improve its output was cute
Rusty Rose randomly realizes that the Birdie in her chest actually isn't being used as a power source, and that the Chaos Council was just... using that to manipulate her, somehow? I don't really know how that works but whatever
The Sonic Advance 3 flashback uses the actual boss music from the game, but they can't use the real Sunset Hill theme because they didn't wanna pay Masato Nakamura for using the Green Hill motif, I guess
To my fellow fans of bad games: did you know that Man of Action wrote the story for the bizarre Square Enix game The Quiet Man? The one where the lengthy FMV cutscenes play out with muffled audio and no subtitles because the protagonist is deaf, so you can't tell what's going on? And you had to do a New Game+ playthrough to actually hear the audio and understand what's going on? The worst-reviewed game of 2018? That one? I only learned that recently and it blew me away
So yeah, that's the end of the show. I didn't like it, and I don't think I liked the show much as a whole. I am far from alone in this sentiment, but the reasons why people dislike the show... those vary a bit.
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The canon conundrum
More than anything else, it seems like most other discourse surrounding this show has been consumed by one talking point:
How can this be canon? Why is it canon?
I want to state very clearly up front that I, too, am a person who's noticed and complained about the inconsistencies with the games in Sonic Prime. Some of the characters are a bit off - or, you know, completely unrecognizable when discussing the writing of some of the AU counterparts. I think it's lame to say Sonic and friends all live in Green Hill and act like that's the entirety of their world. That sort of thing. But if Sega says it's canon to everything else? Sure. Fine. There's weirder shit in the canon.
Really, most of this can be explained away pretty easily. The show was written at a time when Sega was still figuring shit out and there were looser restrictions. Why does Sonic act a little more immature? Probably just because Prime is aiming for a slightly younger audience than the games or the IDW comics. (And also it's, y'know, written by Man of Action, who people have accused of only knowing how to write one kind of protagonist for years.) Why do Sonic and friends live in Green Hill? Because that's the most recognizable location from the games, and the game world doesn't get enough screentime to justify modeling multiple different environments, so they just focus on Green Hill. Why is this considered canon to the games? Because this is the first Sonic cartoon that outright references events from the games as things that have happened to Sonic in the past.
But announcing early on that Prime would be canon certainly let fans' imaginations wander. It was one of the few things we knew about the show before it premiered. People wondered if characters from the games and comics who had never made any appearances in Sonic cartoons might get their time in the spotlight. We wondered if it would tie into the lore or any existing storylines in interesting ways, like the IDW comics do. But above all else, we hoped that its canon status would mean that Sonic Prime would finally be the Sonic cartoon that was faithful to the source material with no catches. We've literally never seen the actual world of the games brought to life in a TV show. Sonic X came the closest, but that still took its liberties. And so hype built for this Canon Sonic Cartoon.
And then it actually came out, and after a brief intro in Green Hill based loosely on the games, it spent most of its running time focusing on things like "what if there was a version of Eggman who was a bratty teen who just wanted to play video games?" The disappointment among fans is understandable. I am disappointed. Look at how much I've bitched about this aggressively mid cartoon.
Some fans, however, came up with an elaborate theory about the series. You see, when asked about the show's place in the game timeline during a live Q&A, Ian Flynn (who only served as a consultant on Sonic Prime and did not write any of it) said this:
"I cannot answer because I know the answer, and you haven't finished watching the show yet."
A couple days later, when answering another question about Prime's place in the timeline and also about a writing discrepancy, he said this:
"As to where it fits on the timeline, I can't speak to it because that would spoil the show to a degree. So you're just gonna have to wait 'til it's done. Towards the other point, I don't know how much I can say, so it's probably better that I not comment. That's a really dissatisfying answer, I know, I'm sorry, but my hands are kinda tied on that one."
I feel the need to quote Ian directly here, because these very basic statements about how he can't talk about behind the scenes shit or anything from unreleased episodes was GREATLY misinterpreted by the fandom. People clung onto Ian's claim that we had to keep watching like a life preserver. Some took it as Ian saying that the ending would explain everything. Finally, we'd have a definitive answer for every little discrepancy and the apparent differences in worldbuilding. An explanation for why Sega and the producers repeatedly insist this show HAS to be canon.
And to these fans, the only explanation that made any sense... would be if the ending of Sonic Prime pulled a Flashpoint.
As this theory explained, the Sonic we were following in Sonic Prime wasn't the Sonic we know from the games and the IDW comics, and likewise the world he comes from isn't really the game world. This is a different Sonic who fights a different Eggman in a world that's literally just Green Hill. It was a hint that something was off all along! But in the end of the series, this Sonic would sacrifice himself to merge all of the Shatter Spaces together and form a brand new world, and that would be the more visually diverse world of the games and comics. According to this theory, Sonic Prime was canon because it was a new origin story for the entire franchise.
I want you to really stop and think about how asinine of an origin story this would be. Really drink this in. The idea that there was another, slightly different version of Sonic who went on a kinda shitty multiverse adventure and then sacrificed himself to create the real Sonic that we've known since 1991. People convinced themselves this made more sense than the simple explanation that a different team of writers got some stuff wrong and Sega didn't make them change it. Interviews where producers talked about drawing on Sonic's "mythology" (ie: they reference the games in the show) were taken very literally - they must be saying that Prime's story is mythological in nature, and that this show would be integral to the games' mythology. Why bother making a show that's canon if it's not going to be crucial to that canon, after all?
The final episodes dropped, and none of this happened. Because of course it didn't. It was all Sherlock fandom-level copium. But fans were left confused by the lack of a grand reveal of where Sonic Prime fits in the timeline, believing they had been promised this, and they turned to Ian for an explanation. Ian's answer:
It doesn't matter, b/c Prime wipes itself out. It's sometime after Advance 3*, but otherwise, it's moot. I didn't want to sour anyone's expectations or investment by spoiling how Prime resolves, that's all. If you enjoyed it, awesome. Savor it. If you didn't, then you can safely ignore it. Simple as that.
* About a trillion people have um, actually'd Ian to point out Orbot and Cubot briefly appear in the show, but if we're really being pedantic here we don't actually know how long before Colors Eggman built Orbot and Cubot, so it wouldn't be fully accurate to say a story featuring Orbot and Cubot couldn't be set before Colors. Either way, a story set anywhere around Colors, or at any point later than that, could still be described as "sometime after Advance 3." Advance 3 is just the most recent game that has specific in-game events referenced in the show. Yes I can feel myself morphing into the nerd emoji before your very eyes
Anyway, this is the latest reason Ian is getting death threats on Twitter. This time it's over a show he barely even had any input on!
I'll cut to the chase. It is truly wild to me that people are getting this heated over canonical inconsistencies in a series as historically inconsistent as Sonic, to the point that they think threatening Ian is justified. The aesthetics of the entire world Sonic inhabits change every other game. Sonic Chronicles may no longer be canon due to the Penders lawsuits, but it was canon at one point, and it took huge liberties with Sonic's world, moving Green Hill off of South Island and reinterpreting Station Square as a tiny outpost in a snowy alpine forest region. Characters' personalities change from writer to writer and based on what Sega wants at the time, with some being WILDLY different across different games. One game Sonic will be stoic and cool, the next he thinks "Baldy McNosehair" is the funniest thing ever. Sega's STILL trying to figure out what Amy's personality is supposed to be. We still don't have the explanation for how the two seemingly contradictory backstories for Blaze can fit together. There have been multiple huge, sweeping retcons, and retcons to those retcons. Sonic Forces claims that Classic Sonic is from an entirely different universe than Modern Sonic, and the plot only makes any sense if that's true - otherwise, Modern Sonic would have already known Eggman was going to beat him and take over the world when he did, because his younger self had already lived through that war. All of that makes no sense in the newly reunified timeline, but Forces is very much still canon.
For fuck's sake, we're talking about the series where Eggman blew up half the moon and then it looked completely normal in every other game after, explained away as "the moon just rotated so we can't see the destroyed side from Earth." This has never, ever, ever been a franchise where everything lines up perfectly with no issues. It's not that serious.
The real core problem with Prime isn't that things don't line up 100% with our current understanding of canon, or that Sonic's characterization means this can't be the real Sonic, or anything like that. The problem, as I've been saying this whole time, is that the story is bad. None of these discrepancies would truly matter if the story was better. They'd just be nitpicks. The fact that Sonic and friends live in Green Hill would be the farthest thing from my mind if the drama was more engaging, if the villains were better, if the jokes were actually funny, if more of the alternate universe counterparts of Sonic's friends had more than one generic character trait each, if the multiverse was more creative and varied, if the final seven episodes of this show didn't devolve into the third act of an MCU movie and then just arbitrarily end, if Nine's character arc actually had a satisfying conclusion instead of ending with either isolation or nonexistence. Maybe we'd be seeing people talk about more than just whether or not it should be considered canon if the writing was any good.
"Canon" is not real, and it sure as hell isn't worth sending people death threats over. It's a storytelling tool. Real human beings decide what does and doesn't go into that canon, or how much they do or don't want to draw on past stories, when creating a new story. Serving that canon is secondary to creating a story where the emotional truth resonates with the audience. And Sonic Prime failed to do that. That is its true failing.
And finally, to close out...
Since people will ask, here are my current ranking of the Sonic TV shows, now that Prime is finished.
Sonic Boom
Sonic SatAM
Sonic X
The Adventures of Sonic the Hedgehog
Sonic Prime
Sonic Underground
Yes, I'd say Boom is my favorite. It's far from my ideal Sonic cartoon, but it gets a lot of points for being as funny as it is. But the top four are all shows I'd say I like, more or less. They all have their pros and cons.
So now, uh... I guess let's hope the live action Knuckles show coming to Paramount+ is better than the underwhelming synopsis of "Knuckles helps deputy sheriff Wade train in the ways of the echidna warrior" would imply? Maybe we'll get lucky?
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meyobe · 9 months
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Pretty privilege…. No MC privilege pt.2
Satan
Mc can always expect him to take their side no matter what.
Mc was the first person to see past his angry and treat him like a person.
He is forever imbedded to them.
No matter how criminal the crime.
Mc was the one to start a fight? Well why was the other person fighting back?
Mc broke an expensive vase? If it’s so expensive why it is out, where anyone can reach it?
Mc started a fire in the kitchen? Devildom ingredients can be dangerous for human use-age.
He will most likely find a way to flip Mc problem on the person who accused them.
He his mind you do no wrong.
But not to be mistaken, he knows Mc is reckless but guidance is key! (He thinks)
Asmo
He will put Mc comfort over his.
He’s spent millennials admiring himself and put himself over other by default.
Mc showed him that his soul is more blinding then any gold or highlighter he puts on.
Mc has showed him a new way of viewing life.
Mc looks uncomfortable sitting on the floor during movie night? Just take his seat… matter a fact his kicking his brother off so you can have space.
Mc is tired of wearing their heels? He’ll switch shoes with you.
Mc is carrying a lot of bags that look heavy? He’ll carry them himself no matter how ugly he thinks it is.
He is letting go of his persona of being perfect because Mc taught him your flaws make you unique.
Buttt old habits die hard but Mc just has to look at him and he knows to settle down.
Beel
Mc can use him as a stress reliever( not that way ^_^)
He is the strongest brother( without and magic or demon forms) he works out and knows it can take stress away.
Mc showed him it’s not enough to be strong physically, but mentally.
Mc and beel are two side of the same coin.
He never wants Mc to hold what their really thinking or feeling back.
Mc’s had a really bad day? Are we going to the gym or on a run?
Mc is refaced with a bad memory? Does Mc need to yell he will listen? Or does Mc want to punch someone or something? He is right there.
Mc feels the need to let out some energy? Does Mc want to practice with him and his team?
He knows that sometimes people need to get violent to relive their stress.
Nothing that Mc May do can hurt him. So go crazy >_<
He thinks Mc is the strongest person he will ever meet.
He strive to be just like them.
Belphie
Mc can expect him to make an effort.
He’s had lots of time to dwell on his past mistakes and understand where he went wrong.
He will spend an eternity trying to make things right.
He wants Mc to know he’s trying his hardest for them.
He’s trying to living up to the honor them Mc gives him.
Mc has been feeling stressed? Flowers and a gift basket are at their door with a note that has the letter “B” on it.
Mc has to go to a meeting but also need to do my chores? He’ll make sure they’re done before Mc is back.
Mc and Belphie got Into a fight? He’s still texting them “ Goodnight, I love you “ because he knows how easily you can be taken away.
All his life his been deemed lazy or useless. It never bother him until Mc.
He is becoming the best version of hisself because he wants to be the demon whose worthy of a pact with Mc.
A/n/: should I write this for the dateables?!?!
I should also mention that I love writing so feel free to request!!
A new post about volleyball will be up soon!
Ty all!❤️
Pt.3 is up!!
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otdiaftg · 1 month
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The King's Men - Chapter Fifteen (17)
Day: Friday, March 22nd / 23rd* Time: 11:30 PM EST
Neil locks the door behind him and crosses the room to Andrew's side. Andrew lets him take the vodka away without argument or resistance. Neil screws its cap on tight and sets it where neither of them could knock it over. Andrew is ready when Neil turns back to him, and he catches Neil's collar to pull him down. Neil plants one hand against the rough carpet to keep himself leveraged off Andrew's body. The other he buries in the beanbag near Andrew's head. Andrew drags a hand down Neil's arm from his shoulder to his wrist. "Last I checked you hated me," Neil says against Andrew's mouth. "Everything about you," Andrew says. Neil pushes himself up a bit. "I'm not as stupid as you think I am." "And I'm not as smart as I thought I was," Andrew says. "I know better than to do this again. Perhaps it's the self-destructive streak in me?" If it wasn't for that "again" Neil would think this has to do with Wednesday's terrible conversation. Neil ticks through all the possible explanations as fast as he can, from Roland's rejected advances to Andrew's complicated family issues to the Foxes and Drake. Pressure on his wrist finally turns his thoughts where they need to go. Neil had once asked Andrew if it would kill him to let something in. He should've known better than to say such a thing after seeing Andrew's scars. Andrew had nearly killed himself trying to hang onto Cass Spear, but he'd still lost her in the end. "I am not a pipe dream," Neil says. "I'm not going anywhere." "I didn't ask you." "Ask me," Neil insists, "or stick around long enough to figure it out for yourself." "I'll get bored of you eventually." "You sure?" Neil asks. "Rumor has it I'm pretty interesting." "Don't believe everything you hear." Neil ignores that dismissal because Andrew is already pulling him down again. They kiss until Neil feels dizzy, until he isn't sure he can hold himself up anymore, and then Andrew pulls Neil's hand off the beanbag chair. He holds it up away from them for an eternity, then slowly presses it flat against his chest and lets go. Andrew tenses up underneath Neil's hand but relaxes before Neil can pull away. Neil isn't fooled. Andrew had made it very clear the first time he kissed Neil how important an actual "yes" is. This casual surrender isn't genuine consent. Andrew is doing this because of what they'd said on Wednesday, but Neil isn't sure which one of them Andrew is trying to convince. It's only been three months since Proust's abuse and four months since Drake's attack. Neil doesn't know when Andrew will be okay with this but he knows it isn't today. Neil leaves his hand on Andrew but refuses to move it from that spot. "I won't be like them," Neil says. "I won't let you let me be." "One hundred and one," Andrew says, "going on one hundred and two." "You're a terrible liar," Neil says, and Andrew kisses him into silence.
Art used with permission by rainbowd00dles. Thank you @rainbowd00dles
*Due to the Leap Year, I have opted to highlight the day rather than the date to keep the events in occurrence to the 2007 year. I will continue to mark both days accordingly.
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softestqueeen · 4 months
Text
slipping and gliding pt. 1
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pairing: natasha romanoff x afab!reader
summary: When the Avengers spend a day at the local water park, you start to see a certain redhead in a different light. You’ve never had anything with a woman before, but Natasha doesn’t mind showing you what feels good.
warnings: 18+ MDNI!! semi-public sex, fingering, shower sex, inexperienced reader, shy reader, kissing, pet names (sweetheart)
wordcount: 2053 words
a/n: Yess, finally I’m writing something that’s wlw! I’ve wanted to do this for quite some time, and this is the perfect scenario. Enjoy <3
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After a few incredibly stressful weeks, filled with mission after mission, Tony Stark decided that the Avengers needed a little break. So, he did what was every teenagers wet dream. (pun intended)
He rented out a whole water park.
Jup. The whole thing, just for the lot of you.
But you didn’t mind it. You could lounge around, eat for free at the buffet, and when laying in the sun got too hot you could go for a swim or try out the huge slide, which was the highlight of the park.
You, the other girls of the team, and also a few of the other SHIELD agents, like Maria Hill were lounging around, when you suddenly had the urge to go down that huge slide. It just looked like so much fun and you definitely needed an adrenaline rush that was not induced by the possibility of getting killed.
You got up, announced to the group that you would check out the slide and off you were. After a few meters you noticed someone joining you.
When you looked to the side you saw your colleague and good friend Natasha Romanoff falling into step with you.
“You can only use the slide with someone else. There are only swimming rings for two. But I’ll gladly go with you.”, after that the redhead sent you a wink and a smile. Only a small whispered ‘thank you’ left your lips before you looked ahead of you again and got lost in your thoughts.
Did she always look this good? This was the first time you noticed how smooth her hair falls over her shoulder or how beautiful the head looks that sits on that pretty neck. Her skin was flawless, and she looked like she just stepped out of a magazine. You could see why she was called the most beautiful Avenger.
Did you feel attracted to Natasha? No, that’s impossible. You’ve never felt something for another woman, nor had something with one and you and Nat were only friends! Why did she suddenly make you feel this way?
It seemed like it was only getting warmer and warmer and you were glad that you were about to go on that slide and get into the icy water.
The two of you were silent on the way up, the stairs seeming to stretch into eternity. But before you could overthink your feelings even more, the two of you arrived at the top and the instructor showed you how to sit down on the swimming ring.
Nat sat down into the first opening, and you sat down in front of her. You both laid down flat and you laid onto her, your head between her boobs and your lower back touched her most intimate parts.
Being this close to her made you feel some kind of way. You didn’t have too much time to think about it though, because in the next moment you were sliding down, and all other thoughts were gone.
You and Nat enjoyed the short but exciting ride, screaming in excitement . You hit the water and felt Natashas body covering yours before she smoothly slid up from you and dived to the surface. You followed after her and when you both resurfaced and made eye contact, you broke out into laughter.
It seemed like everything went back to normal, though you still couldn't get her out of you head and stop your racing mind.
You returned the ring and made you way back to the towels and lounge chairs. Once there you grabbed a towel and a fresh bathing suit.
“I’m going to head to the lockers, I need to put on a dry bathing suit.”, you told Nat before heading to the building where the lockers were. There were also showers and changing rooms inside of it, so all of it was easily accessible.
You entered the building and went to the showers. Putting down your towel and dry change, you were about to take off your bikini when you felt two hands grabbing your waist and turning you around.
You could just make out Nat’s face before she pressed you against the wall and pressed her lips to yours. You let out a surprised gasp before you got lost in her taste, her scent seeming to overwhelm you. She grabbed your waist again and pulled your wet bodies against each other before she grabbed your ass with her free hand. The sudden action made you gasp, and Nat didn’t waste this opportunity to slip her tongue into your mouth.
Her hands start to roam your body and you were getting dizzy from the lack of oxygen.
When you both pulled away, Nat whispered against your lips. “I know you want this too, sweetheart.”
You just nodded, not listening to what she was actually saying. You just wanted, no needed, to feel her lips against yours again. You put one of your hands on the back of her neck and the other one went to her waist.
You pulled her in and connected your lips again. Both your and Nat’s hands were now freely roaming and groping each other. You were sure that the wetness you were feeling did not just come from the pool.
You were kissing a little more before you felt Nat’s thigh between your legs, pressing up against you, stimulating your clit and making you moan into her mouth. She kept on moving her thigh and squeezing your hips, holding you in place. It didn’t take long before you felt Nat’s hand roaming again and wandering towards your middle.
You were quick to catch her wrist, stopping her from going any further. She pulled away and looked at you, puzzled, because she thoughts that’s what you wanted.
“I’m sorry Nat. I haven’t done any of this before.”, you told her while looking at the floor, not daring to look into her eyes that you were sure were filled with anger towards you.
But Nat was having none of it and put a finger under your chin, tilting your face up to meet her understanding and soft gaze.
“You’ve never had sex before? Sweetheart are you a virgin?”, she asked you without a hint of deception in her voice.
“Well, I had sex before, just never with a woman. I guess in that aspect; yea, I’m still a virgin.”, you answered with a sheepish smile and a blush on your cheeks.
“Don’t worry, I’ll make you feel good. Trust me.”, she whispered against your lips before she kissed you again and you believed her every word.
She kept pressing her thigh against you and you slowly started to meet her thrusts and grind down on her, slowly gaining more confidence.
Her hands started roaming your body again, while you were still holding onto her neck and waist. Her hand was slowly wandering towards your core again, but before she touched you, she pulled away.
“Is it okay when I touch you here, sweetheart?”, she asked you.
You just nodded before pressing your lips against hers again.
Her hands travelled towards your wet pussy, going under your bikini bottom. You let out a soft gasp when you felt her hand moving between your folds. She tested out the waters by spreading your wetness around, caressing your folds before making contact with your swollen clit.
Feeling her at your sensitive clit made you moan into her mouth. The kiss wasn’t as heated anymore but slowed down felt more intimate. Her thigh stopped pressing against you now that her hand took over.
She removed her hand and pulled away, making you whine and chase her lips.
“Patience, sweetheart.”, were the only words that left her mouth before she opened the strings on your bikini top.
Her thigh went back to your cunt, stimulating you while she started caress your boobs. She slowly traced them with featherlight touches before she went over to straight up groping you. You let out moans and whimpers at the stimulation you were getting both from her thigh and her hands.
Her hands on you felt incredible and you wished you could feel her on you forever. She leaned forwards and started to trail kissed over your boobs and over your sternum. Your hand moved from her neck into her hair when you felt her lips on one of your perked nipples.
She slightly sucked on it and circled her lips around it, just how you imagined she would do it with your clit. The thought of her mouth on your cunt made a new flood of wetness rush to your core.
She repeated the same treatment on your other breast before she completely pulled away.
“How about we take this to the shower?”, she asked you with a smile on her face.
“That sounds good.”, you answered her, but you were quickly left speechless when you saw Nat taking off her black bathing suit.
She was breathtaking. She was always beautiful but seeing her completely bare was something else. The soft curve of her breasts and hips, her toned stomach and legs that seem to go on forever.
She took your hand in hers to lead you to one of the showers and once she turned around you could see a small tattoo adorning her lower back. That simple fact made her seem even more human and vulnerable, the fact that under that beautiful façade was a human being that had gone through so much.
But once she put on the shower and you felt the droplets of water gliding down your bodies all other thoughts were erased from your mind. All that was left was the sight of Natasha under the stream of water, momentarily closing her eyes to feel the warm water.
You joined her under the spray, pressing your lips against hers. She was quick to press you against the wall again, immediately taking over.
The kiss got more intense, and her hand went to your pussy again. She started to slide between your folds and circled your clit, finding a steady rhythm.
Once you’ve gotten used to the feeling of her hand against you, Nat took it a step further. With her middle finger she entered your tight pussy, making your eyes roll to the back of your head. She slowly started to pump her finger in and out of you, slowly adding a second finger while her thumb was stroking your clit, and her other hand was groping your ass. Your hips were moving against her hand and your wet bodies were pressed together, gliding over each other, the steady stream of the water only made it more sensual.
When she added a third finger you could feel the coil in your stomach starting to tighten. Nat could feel you clench around her fingers and started pumping them faster, also adding to the pressure on your clit.
You came with shout that was muffled by Nat’s mouth, while she was gradually becoming slower, helping you through your orgasm.
Once you calmed down, she pulled her fingers out of you and gently cupped your face. She pecked your lips before pulling you completely under the stream of the shower with her. She left for a moment, getting some shower gel that was provided and started washing you, her hands gliding over your body making you all worked up again. She lathered shampoo into your hair, massaging your scalp and making you melt into her hands.
Once she was done, you felt the urge to feel her body again, so you gave her the same treatment; gently washing her body and her hair.
Nat pecked your lips once again, before turning off the shower and getting a towel, drying your body and hair before doing the same with herself. Both of you got dressed in some dry clothing.
But before the two of you left the locker area, Nat turned to you.
“How about we cut this little trip short and continue with what we started, sweetheart?”, she asked you, a breathtaking smile on her lips and no shame about her suggestion.
“There’s nothing I’d rather do.”, you truthfully answered before taking her hand in yours, excited about what she has in store for you, once you were back at the tower.
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a/n: i'm thinking about writing a part 2, so please tell me if you's like to see/read one. i hope you liked this, if so please leave some notes, likes, reblogs and comments! feedback is very appreciated!
please also consider supporting my ao3: @ softestqueen
part 2
taglist: @silvermagnolias @milywatermelon @BigBananaa
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purinfelix · 5 months
Note
Hello! I love your writing 💕 can i request something fluff with gavi?
post-match routine ˙✧˖°
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pairing: gavi x reader (established relationship) summary: your plans for post-match cuddles with your boyfriend are interrupted when he debuts a new haircut at a game warnings: none - just fluff !! w/c: 988
a/n: thank you sm for the rq and kind words anon!! <33 i had an idea to write smth like this a while ago (when gavi first cut his hair lol) but i'm missing him a lot now so :"") here it is - consider it a love letter to his long and fluffy hair
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The jingle of keys echoing through your empty apartment alerted you of your boyfriend’s arrival home after a match. You craned your neck from your spot on the couch, where you had made yourself comfortable to doom scroll on your phone. Due to an overload of work you had had to miss this game, but had just been catching up on its events after finally muscling your way through your workload. The boys had won, of course, but there was something else that had caught your eye when looking through match highlights  - your boyfriend’s hair. 
You almost didn’t believe it when you saw the clips of him walking out from the locker room, seeing how short he had cut his hair almost sent you spiralling. Obviously, you would still love him nonetheless, but his fluffy hair had always been one of your favourite things about him. And now, it was just so short. And you may or may not have taken to your various social media platforms to express your disdain for it, which you may or may not have overexaggerated for the sake of humouring his fans. 
As you heard the door swing open though, you tossed your phone aside to focus your attention solely on the heaving mass that was your boyfriend as he staggered in. He really looked like hell, and you weren’t just talking about his new haircut, you would choose to bite your tongue on that for now. After an intense match, without having been subbed off once, he stood there sweaty, visibly aching with a pained expression. 
“Hello baby,” you coo smoothly, watching as the bags he was only just holding onto fell to the ground around him. Usually after long matches, espeically one’s you couldn’t attend, Gavi would come home and collapse into your arms. It was his way of ‘recharging’ before getting cleaned up. 
But today was different. He simply stood there, swaying side to side - although you were sure this was more a result of the unstoppable force of fatigue than any actual deliberate choice of his. There was one feature though that told you all you needed to know - a familiar pout spread across his face as he looked down at his own feet. 
“You really hate my hair that much?” His tone was quiet, his voice nothing more than a small, meagre ask. He must’ve seen your tweets, and your story, and maybe the few messages you had sent to him in the blind flurry that had followed first seeing his hair. You almost felt bad, hearing how guilty he sounded and it took everything within you not to give into your cuteness aggression and smother him right there and then. 
“No,” you let out a soft laugh, “I was only kidding,” 
“But, your tweets … and your stories …” he began, sounding so upset you couldn’t help but interrupt him. 
“It’s not my favourite of your looks, but I still love you, hm?” 
“Oh, thank god …” Gavi let out weakly, followed by a sigh of relief as if he had been waiting an eternity just to hear those words. Finally he managed to stagger over to where you were, albeit unsteadily, before collapsing onto you. 
You let out a soft exclamation at the feeling of your boyfriend’s entire body weight pressing down on you, a feeling you had come to not only find familiar but also a great deal of comfort in. He was sticky with sweat and his body radiated a heat you could only barely stand. But despite this he was still your boyfriend, your Gavi, and so you did the only thing you knew to do - wrap your arms around him and pull him closer. 
He let out a croak of thanks at this, shifting into a more comfortable position with his head turned to the side as he offered you a weak smile. 
“You played well today,” you mumble endearingly. 
“You say that every game,” he was quick to respond, even through the fatigue his attitude was strong. 
“Not my fault you play well every game,” you shot back even quicker, fingers coming up to delicately brush away the stray strands of hair stuck to his forehead. You let your fingers dance across his face, his cheeks, his eyebrows, each touch softer than the last. He only let out a hum in response, closing his eyes at the feeling he’d come to love far more than he’d ever admit. 
You two sit in silence for a while, and you had thought your boyfriend had drifted off to sleep on your chest as it would’ve been far from the first time he had. Rather though, he had just been listening in silence to your heartbeat, ear pressed to your chest, rising with each breath. Suddenly, the silence was broken by his soft voice coming once more. 
“Do you really think Pedri’s hair is nicer than mine?” You weren’t even looking but you could tell these words were coming from pouted lips. He must’ve been making reference to one of the throwaway tweets you had made about his haircut, because you could barely remember now. 
“Maybe,” you start, but as you watch his eyebrows furrow you’re quick to change your answer, accompanied by a laugh, “No, of course not.” 
At this, Gavi smiled, letting out a soft laugh of his own - music to your ears. He used what was left of his diminishing energy to take your hand, which up until now had been softly stroking his nape, and press it languidly to his lips. It was about as much affection as he could show in his tired state and you knew that all too well as you gazed down at him fondly. 
“You’ll be the death of me someday,” was the last thing he confessed, barely above a whisper but loud enough that you caught it, before drifting off to sleep.
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inmyloveworld · 7 months
Text
as usual (bradley "rooster" bradshaw x reader)
word count: ~3.7k
synposis: the time for you to meet the Hard Deck, and the Daggers frequenting it, has finally come. but some digs on the oldest aviator of the bunch in front of his younger partner leave a tension between you that begs to be broken.
warnings: age gap (unspecified but in my mind was about 10 years), assumed alcohol consumption, allusions to anxiety, use of the pet name "bunny", jake is an instigator
a/n: this was NOT going to be this long in my head but once i got writing i could not stop.. enjoy some more self-indulgent comfort angst from me!
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As usual, Bradley pulled up to your apartment complex right after a long day on base. And as usual, you were standing in the window like a pup waiting for its owner to come home. He made the comparison in earnest. It melted him to know someone was that excited to have him near, that you were that excited to have him near.
He could barely make it out of the Bronco before you were bounding out your door and down the stairs. Bradley had just rounded the passenger side when you reached him. The sinking sun somehow made your eyes sparkle brighter. Butterflies flew in his stomach, and a lovestruck grin spread across his face. Gentle hands caressed your hips as his caramel gaze took you in closely.
"Did you manage to lock the door?" Bradley teased. You softly grunted at the dig, feigning annoyance in a half frown. The front door and you were nothing if not eternal foes, and Bradley knew of this conflict too well.
"I resent that, I really do." His responding laugh was all it took to break your weak facade. A smile overtook you as you lit up once again to be in his presence. Your hands found home at the base of his neck as your lips greeted each other. Seconds moved in hours whenever you kissed Bradley Bradshaw. He made the noise of the world lift into a soft hum with every touch.
It was understandable that you whined whenever he pulled away. "We're gonna be late," Bradley bargained. Your mouth fell into a soft pout that he was happy to peck away into a smile, and into giggles once his lips found your cheeks, and nose, and temples.
"I thought you said we'd be late!" you laughed as you batted him away to slip into the passenger side. He held the door open for you, like the gentleman Carole had raised him to be. Then he bent to kiss you more softly, like the gentleman his father was.
"You are always worth it." You couldn't fight the flush that broke onto your cheeks to crowd the makeup already present. Blush served little purpose with Bradley lighting your cheeks aflame every chance he got. Nor highlighter, with the glow you seemed to emanate since the day he walked into your life.
His hand found home on your thigh, yours placed atop it to toy with his calloused fingers. The Bronco drove off to the famed bar where he and his naval companions flocked. Such companions were eager to meet the girl who settled their "Rooster" into domestic life.
"Cupid's sure been hard at work," Phoenix remarked upon catching her best friend cheesing at the texts you sent him. Whatever force in the world brought you to him, be it Cupid or God or Nick and Carole themselves, he was grateful. Never had he felt so complete.
"How was work today, bunny?" Bradley asked. A simple question most would roll their eyes at, you jumped to answer. You were eager to tell him of every detail: the pesky clientele, the interdepartmental dramas, even how poorly the coffee was brewed. Excitement ran through you and, by proxy, to Bradley. "Bunny" was a nod to the energy that filled you and energized others, much like the battery mascot.
Your anecdotes filled the minutes driving through the bustle of San Diego rush hour. Bradley glanced over at you every chance he got, adding in commentary where he saw fit but mostly admiring the expressions taking over your face.
He could listen to you ramble for hours, he was certain, as you did for him in his own moments of boundless vigor. An equal partnership seemed unattainable with the women he'd met through the years yet came easily with you.
What place did age have to stall a feeling like that?
-
Some last-minute Bronco kisses had you and Bradley walking into the Hard Deck five minutes behind schedule. His arm was wrapped around your waist, his hand tucked into the front pocket of your jeans to keep you snug against his side. Still, he let you lead the way, content to follow you wherever you found your feet.
You gawked at the space already half packed with people in uniform, a few civilians bridging the gaps. Various signs and regalia littered the space between windows. The perfect sunset view of the beach was on every wall. Miniature aircraft figures crowded the ceiling in permanent flight.
"Is this place for real?" you remarked, earning a kiss on your cheek from Bradley.
"That it is, bunny. As far back as my pops and Maverick," he answered, stopping as he caught his first familiar face. Bradley took the moment to lead you, bringing you to an open space at the bar. "And now in the hands of this lovely lady here. You remember-"
"Penny!" The excitement in your voice brightened the owner right up. Bradley's heart performed somersaults at your cheer. "This place is incredible!"
Penny tried to humble herself under your praise. "Hey, it's the nicest Navy daycare I could imagine." You giggled at the quip, making her break a smile. You quizzed her on her run of the bar as she pulled a draft for Bradley and mixed a margarita for you. The two of you initially met when Bradley brought you to Maverick's hangar. She was just as endeared then as she was now by your bright spirit and compassion for others.
Once you were settled with your drinks, you attempted to tip her out. Penny was quick to push the cash back at you with a wink. "On the house for you tonight. Call it my welcome gift." You must have thanked her half a dozen times as you moved across the bar. A small table against the wall was your target; somewhere to ground your drinks for when you inevitably got spotted-
"Bradshaw!" The time came sooner than you predicted. A brunette tagged with a name you'd heard too many times to count found her way to you. A man in true aviator glasses followed closely behind. Part of you tensed in anticipation. Still, your outgoing nature won over any resistance.
"Phoenix? Bradley has told me so much about you!" You reached out a hand to her. Her eyes slowly followed the gesture as if examining it.
Phoenix took her time to speak up. "So you're the one who's got Bradshaw off in la-la land?"
You blinked, trying to read into her tone. "I-I think so?"
"Phoenix, play nice," Bradley warned. She scoffed at him, finally grabbing your hand to shake.
"I haven't seen the old bird this happy in ages," Phoenix said as she met your eyes. A real smile tugged at her mouth. You were quick to mirror it as you relaxed. "Keep him that way; he flies better."
Bob followed up with his own introduction. It was hard for Bradley to contain his joy at the moment, even with the slight brows Phoenix threw his way. He hadn't told her the details of the age difference in passing; he hadn't thought it important. Bob was none the wiser, simply offering a game of darts to share amongst the four of them.
"Oh, I LOVE darts!" you exclaimed. "But be warned, it's rare that I actually hit the board."
Phoenix chuckled. "Your boy's not too good himself. We ought to split you apart so Bob and I are more evenly matched." Bradley rolled his eyes, though the interaction had his heart soaring. You were happy as can be getting to know his closest friends. They seemed happy as can be getting to know you.
Questions were passed between throws, Bob asking about your work and Phoenix asking about your relationship. It was the kindest form of interrogation you could've envisioned. Meanwhile, the empty pool table behind you was beckoning another group of aviators in your direction.
The tallest of the trio, a man with a square jaw and dark eyes, was quick to single you out. "Now, who's this pretty young thing you guys rounded up to play?"
You turned to make his acquaintance briefly, your usual cheery demeanor receding some. No person with words like that would get the better of you. Instead, you drew in a breath as you threw the last dart of your turn, hitting a triple ring in the process.
"Bradley!" you squealed. He drew you in happily as you jumped into his embrace. "Did you see?! Did you see?!"
An answer was pressed to your lips, leaving you breathless in the aftermath. Bradley hummed at your slightly dazed expression. "That's my girl."
He felt the stares of Harvard, Fanboy, and Coyote burning holes into the floral print shirt he adorned. No mind was paid to any of them, though; not until you solicited it yourself. "You must be more of Bradley's.. coworkers?"
The man of middle height held his hand out for you with a charming grin. "Lieutenant Javy Machado, or 'Coyote' if you'd rather." You were introduced to the other two, with Harvard taking some quizzical glances your way.
"I can't help but wonder, how'd you get shacked up with this fossil?" The audience around you laughed, Bradley included. He had mentioned he was a bit older than his team, giving rationale to the jest and the 'old bird' comment Phoenix made earlier. Still, something in these remarks began to itch you. You were quick to table the feeling, certain it was only your misunderstanding among old friends.
You went on to indulge them in the story of your mildly embarrassing meet-cute. A few other aviators popped in to make their introductions, Payback and Omaha namedly. It seemed that each of them, in due time, had to take their shot at ragging on Bradley's age. He brushed each one-liner off in spades, settling any greater debate with an amused chuckle rather than a defense.
The itch in you was replaced by a gnawing in your gut. You worked to suppress it as best as you could, wanting to make a perfect evening for your partner: the one who kissed you when you shot well in darts and pulled you to the piano to serenade you front and center.
But the words echoing in your ears began to shrink you in your bearings. Suddenly, you had little to say in response to any harmless question. You certainly had less to say as Harvard and Hangman were questioning why you were with Bradley "of all people". Bradley himself had gone to the bathroom, trusting you would be safe and at ease in the company of his friends. It was only upon his return that he was made to see how wrong he'd been.
Bob, the perfect wallflower, had noted the shift in your behavior. He stood by and watched as the dazzling person he was first introduced to started to lose their spark. The WSO watched as you tried to fake smiles and laugh along to the jokes cracked. None of it reached your gaze that began to dart around, as if looking for refuge. Bradley was clueless, too caught up in the moment of his worlds merging to notice one was falling back.
He returned from the bathroom and attempted to dart to your side, stopped only by Bob's light grip on his arm. "Rooster, something's up with your girl." Bradley froze. He scanned the bar, locking onto where you sat with a pair of his friends. Confusion filled him. The night had gone so well. You were getting along with everyone, even Hangman. What could possibly be wrong?
"Just trust me," Bob pleaded, practically seeing the calculations Bradley was attempting in his head. It was seeing your hands nervously fiddling together that confirmed to him Bob was right. He clapped his friend's shoulder, uttering a gracious thanks before making his way over to you.
"Mind if I cut in?" It was nothing more than a courtesy. Bradley would not let you stew in your own head a second longer. "I think we ought to be heading out soon, bunny."
Bradley outstretched his hand to you, which you gladly placed yours into. He pulled you up from the booth with ease and waved his goodbyes to the pair left at the table.
Hangman would not settle for courtesies. "Aww, come on, old man; can't you let her stay out past curfew?"
You barely had a breath to react before Bradley did with yet another chuckle. If nothing churned your stomach that night, the sound of his amusement at this running gag did. You managed your goodbyes to everyone in passing well enough as you exited the bar. The Bronco was a relieving and suffocating sight at the same time.
Silence: that was all Bradley had been given as he led you to his car. A frown fixed on his face. You were keeping a firm distance between the two of you where normally there would be none. Your fingers danced with each other in a nervous rhythm where normally they were laced with his own. Something was seriously wrong, but he hadn't the faintest idea as to what.
Bradley held the passenger door open for you, as usual, and had to hold back a gracious sigh as you let him. You would not so much as look at him since leaving his friends, but he held onto the simple gesture as a sign of hope.
He dared to lean in to catch your lips against his, only to be met by the soft skin of your cheek. Bradley stuttered backward. You had turned away from his kiss.
"Take me home, Rooster." An icy cold poured through him. You had met him in uniform, full with his "Rooster" embellishment, but had never once used the name. And he was starting to wish you never had, for the distant feeling it brought chilled him to the bone.
Bradley hopped into his seat and got the Bronco in motion toward your apartment. Maybe you needed the fresh air and the sights of the city to cool off, he thought. However, with each mile, the tension was growing thicker. He felt it in the silence walling you from him. He felt it as your quad contracted under his subconscious grip, so much that he was growing nauseous himself.
Bradley was a worrywort by default. It's why he hesitated in the air. It's why he hesitated with almost everything in his life. You had been the one piece of his existence that brought him such thoughtless bliss. Had he been too thoughtless to not notice where things were souring?
As quickly as you had raced down, you were flying up the stairs to your apartment. The thud of the passenger door slamming startled him. Bradley barely parked by the time you were halfway up the flight. He locked the doors and jogged up in the path you'd made.
His stature made it fairly easy to catch up to you. That, and the fumbling of your fingers with your key in the villainized deadbolt. You were cursing silently to yourself as you tried and failed to get the lock to turn just right. Tears began to blur your vision, making the simple task even more frustrating.
Bradley's voice was gentle, apologetic already. "Here, let me-"
"Just go home, Rooster; I don't need a fucking babysitter!"
Your response comes out sharp and cold. Your use of his callsign half an hour ago might have chilled him, but this sudden outburst froze him from the inside out. It wasn't long until you froze up yourself and realized the words you let fly.
"Whoa.. where did that come from?"
Bradley didn't receive an answer; not verbally, at least. The only response he received from you was the clutter of your keys against the ground as you tucked your chin into your chest. Soft whimpers began to shake your frame. Within seconds, your resolve gave way to desperate cries pouring from your throat. Bradley's heart cracked.
He moved into action, tucking you into his broad chest and letting you lean your weight into him. Light shushes and repetitions of "It's alright" rushed to console you. Bradley held you upright with one arm as he bent over to swipe your keys into his grasp.
"Come on; let's get inside, yeah?" he cooed as he stood back up. You said nothing and continued to cry into his white tank. Mascara stains were sure to form, but he couldn't care less.
Bradley got your door unlocked in a single try. He propped you safely against the wall as he locked the entry behind himself. You felt like you were floating with his help to get to the couch. There was no resistance or fight in you; only fear.
His hands were on your knees, rubbing soothing circles against the bare skin your jeans exposed. Bradley knelt down in front of you. He waited for you, any tell that you were ready to talk, as long as you needed.
You gathered a hiccuped breath as your sobs faded to sniffles. Your trembling hands reached for him, feeling the warmth of his grasp almost instantly. Bradley gingerly kissed your knuckles on each hand. "Talk to me, bunny." Head lifting, you finally met his worried stare. "What's going on?"
It was a simple question that had a simple answer. Yet, as you tried to form the words, you felt a rush of embarrassment. How ridiculous was it to get so worked up over some lighthearted fun? There was no reason for you to have this sick feeling in your stomach over it.
"Hey," Bradley called, moving a hand up to hold your cheek. His thumb swept at the tears still pouring from your lash line. You hadn't noticed your line of sight drifting away from him with your train of thought. As you found his face again, you saw greater desperation. He ached to know, to help. "Talk to me. Please."
And you did. Grabbing onto his hand with both of yours, you released a heavy sigh. "Tonight was great. Everyone was so nice and welcoming. They all seem like really good people, a-and I'm glad you have them in your life to support you."
Bradley managed a sad smile. Even through your own pains, you were searching for the best to make of the situation for him. He squeezed your hands holding his to comfort you in letting the other shoe drop.
"But.. I-I know you're older than them. I'm sure that, that they make those jokes around you a lot, and did way before you met me. It just.." You stopped yourself, shaking your head as if to shake the thought away. "It's probably so stupid-"
"It's not stupid if it's got you this upset."
Oh, Bradley. The only man you'd ever encountered who genuinely yearned to empathize with you at every struggle or hardship. The person who encouraged you to feel things through in a healthy manner instead of immediately pointing blame at yourself for feeling it at all. No person at any age topped the level of emotional care and safety he provided you.
Your words started to flood out, mixing together in disarray. Yet, Bradley listened intently to every fragmented sentence you gave. "I care about you. So much, B; so much it's scary sometimes. And I don't ever think of the years between us because it's all meaningless, you know? The way I feel for you, and how I think you feel for me. We each have our shit sorted, there's no weird power dynamic bullshit going on."
He restrained a laugh at your frank vocabulary. It was one of the things he admired most about you. When your feelings spilled out, there was never a filter. You expressed yourself entirely authentically. That's why your earlier silence frightened him into his own.
That was not to say your troubles were easy for him to hear, because they weren't. Who wanted to hear that the person they loved ever doubted as such?
"All those jokes… I don't want your friends to not take me seriously. That I'm with you for any reason other than you make my life so much better just by being in it, and I hope to god I can do the same for you. I don't need you to take care of me, be my 'sugar daddy' or anything like that. And-" You pursed your lips as another sob caught in your throat.
Bradley leaned in to kiss your forehead, so tenderly it sent chills down your spine. Your lips parted to release that choked cry. "I-I was scared when you just.. just laughed with them, that, that you didn't take me seriously e-either."
The words were a knife in his chest. "Oh, baby, no," he nearly gasped. "No, no; I never have thought like that, bunny."
You began to cry once more; out of the feelings you'd held that evening, out of the faint insecurity you'd held the months you'd spent together, and out of relief to hear him reassure you. The mix of emotions was blowing you over.
"Can I come up there, baby? Can I hold you?" Your answer was in the frantic way you pulled at his hands. Bradley fell into your ragged loveseat in an instant, tugging you into his lap as you wept. He rubbed up and down your back and pressed kisses into your hair to soothe you.
His voice was warped with his own emotion when he spoke next. "I'm so sorry I ever made you doubt how I feel about you. You are worth so much more than your age." He cupped your cheek again to meet your watery gaze with his own.
"You're incredible. The way you navigate life so carefree and full of light, and how you pass that feeling onto everyone you meet. How you care about everyone you meet and effortlessly brighten their day. How you care about me so much that you're this worried that I don't know it."
Your tears rolled freely onto the skin of his fingers, your body jolting with hiccups. And Bradley thought you were every bit as beautiful as you'd ever been.
"But I do. And I will treasure that, I will treasure you, every day of my life." Your responding smile was the most welcome sight. It cleared up the dark clouds that were looming overhead to shine brightly on whatever was to come. As usual.
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a/n: this was very VERY loosely proofread but i am open to feedback and suggestions! thank you all for reading <3
tags: @roosterforme, @avengersfan25
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20-th-centurygirl · 6 months
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it's always been you
bsf! jude bellingham x fem!reader
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summary: falling in love with your life long best friend is no joke
a/n: hello ! i haven't written a full fic in an eternity so i'm abit rusty. this is also angsty ish? which isn't my speciality so i hope it's good. i'm a bit :/ on the ending bc it feels a little rushed but i hope you enjoy <3
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𖡼.𖤣𖥧𖡼.𖤣𖥧
for as long as you could remember, you and jude had been attached at the hip. your moms had always been close, and when they both had children at the same time they were determined to get them to be equally as close. and they'd succeeded. you and jude had gone through primary and secondary school together, and your closeness never faltered even when he moved to a completely different country. you were eachothers most loved person, eachothers first kiss at the grand age of nine years old, you were the best friend either of you would ever have.
when jude moved to madrid, you took the opportunity to spend more time with him than ever before, moving over to go to uni there. he'd even offered, no insisted, that you move in with him. and who were you to say no?
and it had all been great. cuddling and watching a film in judes bed had become nightly routine, and it was very rare that you made it back to your own, often too tired from judes fingertips gently dancing up snd down your arm lulling you to sleep. everyone around you was sure that you and him were more than just friends, but you'd never seen eachother in that way, and you were both sure that you never would. how wrong you both were.
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your head was rested on judes chest, your eyes fluttering shut "hey, don't fall asleep on me angel" he teased, poking your nose and grinning in amusement when you scrunched it.
" 'm not, just resting my eyes"
"mhm"
you weren't resting your eyes. you woke up the next morning wrapped in judes arms. he was still asleep, and you tried to shuffle out of his arms to have a shower but he'd caught you. "where you going?" he mumbled, grabbing your wrist to keep you in the bed.
"'m going to have a shower. or is that not allowed?" you teased
"only if i watch" his wonky grin and voice thick with sleep gave you butterflies. "no you perv" you'd both seen eachother naked countless times, and jude loved making inappropriate jokes. if only you knew there was some meaning behind it.
"are you gonna come to my game today?" jude had got out of bed and you couldn't help but linger on his bare abs, the only clothing he was wearing being a pair of boxers. jude noticed but said nothing, and he couldn't deny the giddy feeling he felt when he saw you checking him out.
"have i ever missed a game?" you teasingly pinched his cheeks. "anyway stop staring at my arse now i need to get ready"
jude rolled his eyes, walking over to you. "i'll see you later. be safe on the way" he pressed a small kiss to your hair, something he did every time one of you were leaving.
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jude didn't know what was happening. he'd always seen you as second sibling but lately he'd felt different. the way your smile could light up a whole room, the pride in your face whenever he mentioned anything about football, the way you cared for him. he'd always thought you were attractive, but lately he was seeing you in a whole new light. everytime he saw you his heart skipped a beat. the 'jokes' he'd always made started to have meaning behind them. but he didn't have a crush on you, no way?
his heart skipped a beat the moment his eyes locked onto you. you were never a huge fan of football, you'd said yourself many times you'd rather watch rugby but here you were, the sun hitting you perfectly, highlighting every feature, your smile that made his day better no matter what, your eyes sparkling as the sun bounced off them, as far as jude was concerned you were an angel on earth. and when he saw you standing proudly with his last name on your back it hit him, he was in love with you. absolutely infatuated. and he knew full well you'd never see him in the way he was beginning to see you. whenever someone asked, you'd jokingly pull a face of disgust before making it abundantly clear to that person that you were just friends and nothing more. jude had girls throw themselves at him everyday, yet he only wanted the girl that called him her brother.
little did he know you felt the same way. you hated the fact that you were starting to fancy your bestfriend. the teasing jokes, drunken kisses and the constant cuddling wasn't friendly. you could pretend not to be interested, to tell people you'd rather get a lobotomy than ever be with jude in a romantic way all you wanted but it wouldn't change the fact you wanted him to be yours and yours only. and maybe you had a chance. the way he acted with you didn't seem friendly, and you planned to attempt to make a move.
but then it changed. you and jude had both been invited to a mutual friends birthday party. you secretly couldn't wait to see jude, knowing his outfit would had you drooling. but he walked in with a girl that none of you had ever seen hanging off his shoulder and you felt your heart shatter.
"who's that?" muttered to your bestfriend
"don't know? is she his girlfriend? surely he'd have told you if he had one" she said, her eyes locked onto the new 'couple'
"he hasn't mentioned anything"
"weird" she replied, walking away quickly as she saw them approaching.
the first person jude brought her over to was you, of course it was. "y/n. this is jess" he smiled
"hi, i've heard so much about you. i love your dress" she was amazing. gorgeous, prefect hair, perfect body and she was nice. "thank you! sorry if this sounds rude but judes just not mentioned you. how long have you two been seeing eachother?" you shot jude a glare for putting you on the spot but he seemed completely oblivious.
"oh only a few weeks. i'm sorry i thought jude told you" jess shot him a glare too, and jude frowned. "no he didn't. sorry, i'm just gonna go grab a drink" you practically ran away, wanting nothing more than to be swallowed whole.
you'd spent the rest of the evening avoiding him completely, hiding to go to the toilet or getting one of your friends to drag to away every time jude was making his way over to you.
"god i can't even hate her. she's so fucking nice and pretty and just perfect" you slumped in a corner in the middle of two of your friends. you didn't have a justifiable reason to feel this way, you were just friends. but you were convinced that you were destined to be something more. you'd always wondered about jude, questioning if he ever had any romantic feelings for you, and lately you were certain he did. and you had accepted that you felt the same way, ready to tell him and he walked in with a girl you'd never met.
"are you upset because your hopelessly inlove with him?" one teased and you couldn't even argue back. she was right.
"i just feel like he's put me on the spot? he didn't tell any of us she was coming and she thought he had. she couldn't believe i didn't know who she was. am i being dramatic? i think i've had too much to drink" you pouted, completely unsure of whether you were being reasonable or not. " i'm gonna go and get some fresh air"
you rested your back flat against the wall, watching the cars go by. the cool air was refreshing, giving you a chance to think. "hey" jude came out and stood next to you. "fucking hell you scared me. what're you doing out here?"
"haven't seen you all night. where have you been hiding?"
"i haven't been hiding. just thought you might've wanted some space with jess" your tone was sharper than you intended, but you couldn't help it.
"what's that supposed to mean?"
"doesn't mean anything"
"do you not like her or something?"
"It's got nothing to do with her" you took a deep breath before turning to face jude "why didn't you tell me she was coming?"
"what?"
"i just feel like you've put me on the spot s'all. i mean did you not see how uncomfortable you made her by not telling me?"
"right. i think you're being a bit dramatic"
you scoffed, then you both went silent, focusing on your surroundings instead.
jude broke the silence first "you gonna come on saturday? jess is gonna be there and she's looking forward to seeing you again"
"dunno. i'll try but i might be busy" you mumbled. "i'm gonna go back in, getting cold now" you didn't give him a chance to reply, quickly walking past him.
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you didn't go to the game. you knew it was petty but you just couldn't face it. you promised yourself you'd just sit this one out.
jude arrived home and went straight up to your room. he opened your door and carefully walked in. "hi"
"hi"
"why didn't you come to the game?"
"didn't feel right with jess being there" you shrugged. making up some stupid lie was far easier than admitting the truth. but the truth always comes out in the end. judes defeated "oh" sent guilt through your body, but it wasn't fair to tell him the real reason and to ruin a happy relationship. you'd get over him soon enough, right?
"sorry, i didn't mean to upset you. i just didn't want to make her feel uncomfortable, s'all. it feels weird being there if your girlfriends there "
"i get it. i'll see you in the morning, night." jude moved towards you with his arms outstretched, but you stepped back, mumbling something about a cold and you didn't miss the flicker of hurt in his eyes. you'd never denied him any hug, in fact it was rare for you to both be in seperate beds. but you had to get over him, and in your head the best way to do that was try to distance yourself from him. you knew it was hurting him, but you felt lost. you wanted him in a way that you could never have him.
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the next two weeks consisted of you avoiding jude as much as you possibly could, pretending to be asleep or in the shower whenever he came to say goodbye to go to training. you ate separately, missed out on judes came with the excuse of being 'ill' or 'tired'. you knew it was mean, but in your head it was the only way to try and get over jude. he had a girlfriend that wasn't you and you just had to get over it.
but frankly jude was miserable. jess was perfect, really he should've been over the moon to be with her but she wasn't you. no girl would ever compare to you, but you'd shut him out completely for no apparent reason. he knew dating someone else was a stupid way to try and ignore his feelings for you because ultimately they only got stronger. but now with you icing him out he was sort of stuck.
you missed him terribly, especially tonight. he'd gone over to see jess and the jealously you felt was unlike anything else.
"jude i wanna talk to you" jude's 'girlfriend' muttered. he didn't really know what they were, it was difficult to label a relationship when he was in love with someone else.
"whats up"
"us. its not gonna work out"
"why"
"because you're in love with someone else. it's only fair on the three of us if you leave and go to her instead" she smiled softly. jude didn't know what to say, but he knew exactly who the girl infront of him was talking about. he said nothing to say, she was right. he'd never fully love someone else, and he couldn't begin to try unless he got the closure he needed. "i'm sorry. i don't want you to feel like i was dragging you along"
"it's okay. i knew the first time i met her you were both infatuated. the way she looked at you gave it all away. she's a lovely girl jude"
"thank you. i'm sorry"
"i know"
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the pounding of judes fists against your door abruptly woke you up from your sleep. You swung the door open, ready to argue with whoever it was. but the exasperated expression on judes face stopped you in your tracks.
"jude?"
"what have i done wrong y/n?" the desperation in his voice cutting you deeply
"what"
"you've just cut me out your life completely and i don't know why? we never do anything anymore. you're not at my games you don't call me. i miss you."
"i'm not your girlfriend jude" you hissed, far harsher than you intended and you knew instantly that you were in the wrong. but what was he expecting? he had a girlfriend, why did he need you to play that role instead of her?
"well maybe i don't like the reminder" he mumbled but you'd heard him loud and clear.
"what?" you whispered, his quip like a harsh slap.
"such a smart girl but you can't see things right infront of your eyes. i am absolutely stupidly hopelessly in love with you y/n. jess was just my way of trying to forget about the way i felt about you because i knew you'd never want me in that way. but it didn't help, she didn't help. it's you or no one"
"really" was all you could stutter out, absolutely speechless at his confession.
"yes really. if you don't feel the same way tell me now and i'll be out your life forever" in all the years you'd been friends with jude, you'd never seen him so vulnerable and it rendered you speechless. you knew his reaction was genuine but you refused to believe it.
"no jude, i feel the same way. that's why i stopped speaking to you, seeing you with someone else killed me"
"why didn't you say anything?"
"why didn't you?"
you both went silent, feeling incredibly stupid. jude spoke up first "i was scared. whenever someone asked you if we were dating you'd just be so disgusted? like you always saw me just as a friend and i didn't wanna lose you. i'd rather be your best friend who's stupidly in love with you than lose you completely by confessing"
"i felt the same" you mumbled, head staring down at the floor. "god i feel so stupid. think of all the time we could've spent together if i said something"
"don't feel stupid" jude cupped your cheeks in his palms "look at me, you are the most amazing person i've ever met. and we're gonna spend the rest of our lives together angel, i promise" he leaned in, pressing his lips to yours and it was nothing short of perfection. your own hands rested on his side, judes lips soft and plump against yours. his tongue gliding against yours. it was like you were made for eachother.
you pulled back first, resting your forehead against judes."what about jess?"
"she ended it. she was really nice about it. she said she knew i loved you and she didn't want to try and force a relationship that wouldn't ever work"
"really?"
"yeah. we weren't really official anyway. i was only with her to try and get over you"
"what do we do now?" you whispered, a wide smile adorning both your faces. "was thinking we could go out to that coffee shop we always used to go to. just wanna take it slow, we've got all the time in the world"
"yes we do" you smiled, pulling him into your room and connecting your mouths again.
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taking-thyme · 6 months
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🌅 Lucifer Deity Guide 🌅
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Note: This is inspired by both my own experiences with Lucifer and the information I read on @scarletarosa's blog and her devotional guide to him. Please go read that one too!!
The divine rebel, Lucifer is the light of truth and divine wisdom; an ancient light which shines through the darkness, representing illumination. He is the driving force of innovation, liberation and transformation. According to Scarletarosa, who actively works with Lucifer and was told this by him, he was the first-born god of the Universe created by the supreme deity, the Source. He is so incredibly ancient and beautiful. Lilith was created to be his counterpart, the Queen of Heaven. However, Jehovah took the throne of heaven from Lucifer and cast him and his followers into hell. Most of them lost their connection to heaven and their energy became dark and intense. Jehovah claimed the throne of heaven and set himself up as the one true god, manipulating humans into betraying their original deities. Thus, Lucifer became the King of Hell and has been scorned by Christians for millenia. 
God of: Illumination, Light, Darkness, Change, Rebirth, Challenges, Innovation, Logic, Truth, Knowledge, Wisdom, Strategy, Persuasion, Revolution, Luxury, Pleasure, Freedom, The Arts and The Morning Star (“Morning Star” is another name for the planet Venus)
Symbols: Sigil of Lucifer, The Morning Star, Violins and Fiddles (instruments traditionally associated with him)
Plants and Trees: Rose, Belladonna, Mulberry, Patchouli, Myrrh, Min, Tobacco, Marigold, Lilies, Hyacinth, Sage
Crystals: Amethyst, Black Obsidian, Onyx, Garnet, Selenite, Rose Quartz
Animals: Black Animals in general, Dragons, Snakes, Owls, Eagles, Ravens, Crows, Rams, Foxes, Pigs,  Bats, Rats, Moths, Swans
Incense: Rose, Frankincense, Patchouli, Myrrh
Colors: Black, Red, Silver, Emerald Green, Gold
Tarot: The Devil
Planets: The Morning Star, Venus
Day: Monday and Friday
Consort: Lilith
Children: Naema, Aetherea and many others
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How was he traditionally worshipped?
There is not much to say about how Lucifer was historically worshiped seeing as he wasn’t worshiped at all for a large chunk of human history. He seems to have been worked with in some capacity according to the Gesta Treverorum, written in 1231, which is where we first see the term Luciferian being used to refer to his worship. This was by a woman named Lucardis for a religious circle, who was said to lament to Lucifer in private and prayed to him. However, the term Luciferians was later applied to basically any groups Christians didn’t like and wanted to fight, as one might expect. However, the modern Luciferian movement also sheds light on how Lucifer is worshiped. For Luciferians, enlightenment is the ultimate goal. Their basic principles highlight truth, freedom of will and fulfilling one’s ultimate potential, and encourage the same in all of us. Traditional dogma is shunned because Luciferians believe that humans do not need deities or the threat of eternal punishment to know what is good and the right thing to do. All ideas are to be tested before being accepted, and even then one should remain critical because knowledge is fluid and ever-changing. Regardless of whether Luciferians view Lucifer as a deity or an archetype, he is a representation of ultimate illumination and exploration in the name of personal growth. 
Epithets
Phanes
The Morning Star
Light-bringer
The First-born
Prince of Darkness
Son of Morning
The Glory of Morning
Lord of the Lunar Sphere
The First Light
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Offerings
Red Wine, Whiskey (especially Jack Daniels), Champagne, Pomegranate Juice, Black Tea (especially earl grey), Chocolate (especially dark chocolate), Cooked Goat Meat, Venison, Apples, Pomegranates, Honey, Good Quality Cigars, Tobacco, Daggers and Swords, Silver Rings, Emeralds and Emerald Jewelry, Goat Horns, Black Feathers, Seductive Colognes, Red Roses, Dead Roses, Crow Skulls, Bone Dice, Devotional Poetry and Artwork, Classical Music (especially violin)
Devotional Acts
Acts of self-improvement, spiritual awakening and evolution, knowledge-seeking and dedication to spirituality ; Shadow Work ; Working to overcome your ego to become wiser ; Defending those in need ; Working to better yourself without being too self critical ; Fighting against tyranny and bigotry whenever you encounter it
Altar Decorations
Black or Red Candles, Snake and Dragon Figurines, His sigil, Roses, Fancy Chess Boards and Playing Cards, Silver Jewlery and ornaments, Black feathers, Goat horns
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Appearance
For me Lucifer usually appears as a tall light-skinned man with long fiery red hair (so red it looks like it’s been dyed), a sophisticated face with a killer jawline, passionate eyes and dressed in a fancy black suit. From all my experiences with him and what I’ve heard from other followers, it seems Lucifer and most demons dress in full suits and tuxedos. 
Personality
Lucifer is nothing if not charming. He’s a protector first and foremost - one that always works to help you better yourself, but a protector nonetheless. He feels like a protective older brother taking care of you while your parents are away. He is a very complex entity, deeply wise and eloquent. He is more serious than one might expect for a demon given their popular depictions in our culture as chaotic forces of evil, but Lucifer is full of courage and love. I often feel him with me even when I’m not doing things related to him. He is proud of his follower’s accomplishments and congratulates them on a job well done, though he also reminds them that the job is never truly over. Growth is constant. Lucifer is the epitome of growth, blunt and gentle at the same time, telling you what you need to do and giving you space to figure out how to do it. 
Lucifer values resilience, the pursuit of self-betterment, intellectualism, courage, open-mindedness and responsibility in individuals and wants to see his followers develop these qualities. He is constantly rooting for you to reach your full potential. He won’t hold your hand the entire way, but he will help you take steps in the right direction. Lucifer, like all deities, is different for everyone and will adjust his approach depending on your needs.
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^ The Sigil of Lucifer
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