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#i had to throw a stupid thought into the void
lameow-l · 5 months
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so wait… furina is the name of the archon role that “furina” had to play
wouldn’t make more sense narrative wise to give her a name of her own?? like scara gets his own epic chapter about him ridding himself of his past and adopting a new name then proceed to ignore said name in favor of “hat guy” but the actress playing “furina” doesn’t get to be known for her own name?
like people of fontain (partly maybe) know the truth so why not let her free? let her enjoy the simple human life she so so longed for? even the other furina wouldn’t want this
#i think her story is a better use of the (give character name) mechanic that wasn’t really needed in scara’s arc imo#like yeah it’s cool and all but we literally saw him throw the actual physical manifestation of his past into the fucking void!!!#i personally think it was kind of wasted on him on top of me thinking that idea was entirely stupid to begin with and hyv keeps proving tha#no one actually refers to him as wanderer or by the name they choose online.. its just scara#thats both bad marketing and confusing burying the character away from new players#and like the amount of shit u have to go through as a new player just to name ur weird huge hat angry little dude is just..#but imagine how impactful such a mechanic would be for ‘furina’ who spent all her live acting a role she wasn’t#at the end of all that agony do u think she could endure hearing people call her by that name??#unlike scara she did that for the people every moment of those 500 years knowing that the fate of every person is mere a breakdown away#there was nothing in that for her or for a reward she thought deserved.. just suffering on her own#it just makes more sense for her to want a different name a different identity that has nothing to do with that role#and again i think that mechanic is stupid anyway but if it had to happen i’d loved it more with ‘furina’#or idk give her like a clueless friend she gets to meet that keeps calling her a different name for reasons and her liking the name or smth#maybe give her a different role she gets to play.. or have neuvillette give her a name#same with scara i think it would have been a lot better if he went by a name he choose when all his previous names were chosen for him#i dont see how the entirety of genshin writers and devs agreed to this mechanic being implemented honestly#like traveler is literally there waiting for a single soul to address them by their actual name (the one we choose) but every time it’s jus#traveler traveler.. even their most beloved companion calls them traveler#like that alone should've changed the writers minds bc such a name would 1. either not ever be used or replaced by a nickname#2. the hell devs had to go through to not allow certain phrases and names and 3. the hell both teams will suffer should they add a new char#tl;dr stupid dumb mechanic but they should still give furina a new name#genshin impact#furina#fontaine archon quest#scaramouche
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skyllion-uwu · 7 months
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I think I got glutened by my coworker :(
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raveartts · 1 year
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I find myself getting jealous that ai art is so pretty and I'm not nearly as good as it, then I remember that ai art is just a conglomeration of stolen art from talented artists so who cares it's not special, and then I remember that those talented artists are so much better than me anyways and I get jealous again and-
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urdepressedslut · 9 months
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Hello lovely,
I saw your post that your requests are open, so I will give it a try =)
Imagine Bucky and reader are best friends but they have a huge argument and now they don't talk to each other for days. She's feeling really bad, missing him. He is her most important person and now without interacting with him for days, she's feeling lost and lonely and heartbroken. Maybe she has not a super power and is only a normal human, helping the Avengers with IT or something. Due to the argument with her best friend and not talking to Bucky (Bucky ignores her completely) she begins to feel it not only mental but also physically. She can't eat probably and at the end falls deathly sick.... With a fluffy happy ending and a worried and protective Bucky
Please. That would be nice.
Take care honey
oh my goodness— my heart 😭❤️ the angst is gonna hurt, but i’m such a sucker for it. i had so much fun writing this one, thank you for requesting and i hope you like it🥰
Love Hurts
♡ Pairing: Beefy!Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader
♡ Summary: You and Bucky get into a heated argument, things are said and done and now he won’t speak to you. You don’t think you can handle him ignoring your existence.
♡ Warnings: language, mentions of bucky’s trauma, heavy angst, malnourishment, depression, anxiety/panic attacks, minor injuries, hospitalization, suicidal ideation, self hate, literally hurt just writing this
main masterlist
MINORS DO NOT INTERACT | MATURE CONTENT 18+
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Your nails bit into your palm, denting the flesh— threatening to pierce the delicate skin. It was all to hold yourself back, distract you from the words that wanted to burst out.
It was becoming a sickening routine, Bucky was reckless and had yet another near death experience on his recent mission. The anxiety and the nerves stopping your body from functioning— the dreaded wait for his jet to arrive back at the compound. You shouldn’t have to be used of receiving the call that he had yet again made a reckless move— but you were starting to discover a pattern.
It did nothing to ease the panic that swirled in your chest every time he left for missions. You’d sob, throwing up everything you had eaten that day— unable to stomach anything with the idea that Bucky was on a mission. You never found your anxiety to be so severe— but when Bucky was even mentioned about going on a mission… it spiked.
That’s where you found yourself in his room, watching him pace the space— avoiding your frustrated stare. You weren’t angry at him per say— you were angry that he didn’t value his life.
“Seriously (Y/n)— you get so worked up over nothing. I’m here and alive— isn’t that enough?” He exclaimed, throwing his hands up in frustration.
You pressed your nails tighter to your palm, yet the pain couldn’t stop your thundering thoughts.
“You’re here and alive now, until you do some stupid shit like this again and are dead!” You hissed, trying to keep your voice low but you didn’t know how much longer you could control yourself.
He glared at you, squinting his eyes in anger and then rolling his eyes.
“Oh for fucks sake— can you stop fucking babying me? I can handle myself!” He raised his voice, his metal arm whirring.
“I’m not babying you— I’m just scared you’re gonna get yourself killed. Do you care about your life at all?” You asked him aggressively, your voice raising just a tad.
He took a long pause, staring at you with his face void of emotion— only annoyance.
“Not really.” He admitted.
You were taken back, although you had these conversations with him a time or twenty. It was an ongoing process to get him to slowly love himself— his past as The Winter Soldier torturing his soul. He was so convinced he wasn’t deserving of anything, not even a roof over his head. It was a struggle to help him, but you weren’t going to give up on him.
“You realize if anything ever happened to you I—” Your voice broke, needing a breath, “Buck I wouldn’t know what to do with myself.”
You thought you saw his eyes flash with guilt, but before you could linger on the look for too long— his face was hardening again.
“That doesn’t sound like my problem.” He mumbled out, making your eyes widen.
You were extremely taken back from those words, your chest aching painfully— him not knowing what effect those words had on you.
“Are you fucking serious?” You asked him, your face morphing into a hurt expression, mixed with anger. “Can you just do your job without trying to kill yourself?”
His face grew red with rage and he was stomping up towards you— his face inches from yours.
“I am doing my job— very well in fact. Unlike you who just fucking sits here doing nothing!” He defended himself, his breath hitting your face in warm pants.
“Doing nothing? Buck— why are you like this?” You puffed your chest, not backing down from his towering form.
But your words seemed to have hit a nerve, as he shrunk back slightly, narrowing his gaze at you.
“Like what?”
You furrowed your brows, slowing your racing heart from the shouting— you weren’t sure you had said anything bad. Did you?
“What?” You squeaked out, nervous now.
“You said, why am I like this… like what?” He pushed, stepping closer to you now, his face still red with anger but you could see the hurt in his eyes.
You swallowed and wondered how to convince him you didn’t mean anything bad by what you said. But you were almost positive it would be an impossible task to get Bucky to listen.
“Buck, I didn’t mean anythin—”
“What— you think I’m not capable of doing my job? You think I’m still the monster hydra made me?” He spat, his chest rising and falling quicker.
“No, no Buck listen—”
That was definitely not what you meant, you could tell he was spiraling and you were still confused as to why. You would never make him think that.
“After 70 fucking years I finally have a job that I like— that I enjoy doing— I fucking help people! I’m finally doing some good and now you’re telling me I’m not capable of doing it?” He boomed, his chest puffing into yours and your stumbled back slightly. “You think I’m only capable of being a monster? Huh? Is that what you fucking think?”
You were growing scared now, the look in his eyes wild with something and you didn’t like how close he was to you— you knew he’d never hurt you but your fear overwhelmed your senses.
“Friday— call Steve and Sam in here now!” You shouted into the room, and Bucky’s eyes squinted painfully— his metal arm whirring again.
Bucky only saw one thing— you didn’t reassure him that he was thinking irrationally. You didn’t correct him that he wasn’t the monster. Instead you called for help, that you were clearly scared— because you thought he was a monster.
He was at a loss for words and just stared at you, almost through you— as his breathing was only getting heavier at the sight of your fearful eyes.
Not even minutes later, Steve and Sam were busting through the door, taking in the scene and separated you and Bucky.
“Hey— what’s going on?” Steve asked in between the two of you. “Buck, what’s wrong man?”
You couldn’t seem to find the words and just stood speechless as well— the fight startling you. This was one of the worst ones, and it was also one that still left you confused. You cursed yourself for not being careful enough with your words— but it was almost impossible to get through to him when he was on the brink of having an episode.
Sam walked closer to you, his facing morphing into concern as he took in your shocked expression.
“(Y/n)? You okay? Did he hurt you?” Sam whispered, keeping his words only between you two.
You slowly shook your head but still didn’t respond verbally.
“Okay, okay that’s good. You wanna go get a drink from downstairs? Why don’t we take a breather okay?” Sam suggested softly, big brother mode kicking in at the sight of your frazzled state.
Without another word, you left the room with Sam— missing the devastated look from Bucky.
Steve waited until the door shut, then his attention was back on Bucky.
“Buck, you gotta talk to me man— what happened?” He asked softly, watching his friend slowly relax, but it wasn’t from being in a relaxing mood— his body and mind were just exhausted from the argument.
“I fucked everything up. That’s what happened.” He mumbled, turning away from Steve to sit on the edge of his bed.
Steve followed behind but stood in front of him, shaking his head— ready to argue.
“You didn’t mess anything up, arguments happen. You guys will work it out. I know how much you mean to each other.” Steve pointed out, watching Bucky’s face unchanging.
“You didn’t see the way she looked at me— she’s scared of me I—” He shuttered, his breath shaky as he remembered your look, “I fucking scared her.”
Steve’s chest ached, the state of his friend breaking his heart. He knew Bucky meant no harm, and he almost for a fact knew that you knew that too. But Bucky for sure didn’t believe that himself.
“I didn’t see what you saw, but I can guarantee you that she’s not afraid of you. This is (Y/n) we are talking about. You are her world Buck.” Steve tried to convince him.
Bucky shook his head, running his flesh hand through his hair.
“I think I just need to stay away from her for awhile.” Bucky came up with instead.
Steve immediately started shaking his head, knowing that was the last thing he needed.
“Bucky I—”
“Please Steve… I just need some space.” Bucky pleaded, his body sagging in exhaustion.
Steve couldn’t find it in himself to argue with him anymore about this. Maybe he did need some time to himself, to cool down and gather his thoughts. Also Steve wasn’t going to force him to anything ever. After the years his pal went through— he would never make him do anything. He had enough things decided for him, and Steve wasn’t about to stoop to hydra’s level.
Meanwhile down in the kitchen, Sam was getting you a glass of water— standing across from your seated form at the island. He slid the cup across, sending a worried glance at you.
“(Y/n)?” Sam snapped his fingers getting your attention.
You were shaken from your state of staring, but even snapped out of the trance— the anxieties still swirled within you.
“Yeah sorry… I’m here.” You whispered, grabbing the glass and taking a tiny sip.
Sam gave you a quizzical expression, watching you start to slip back into a mindless stare— so he spoke up.
“You wanna tell me what happened?” He asked, genuinely curious what had went down.
He knew— hell everyone knew you and Bucky were extremely close. Best of friends, always there for one another— dancing on the line of strictly friends to lovers. Truthfully, Sam found it completely obnoxious and just wanted you two together already.
“I don’t really know… I think I said the wrong thing— I didn’t mean to make him upset.” You confessed, keeping your eyes on the countertop, not risking a glance to Sam.
“Hey, don’t beat yourself up— mistakes happen. I’m sure he’ll forgive you.” Sam told you.
You shook your head, gripping the cup tighter.
“God I hope so… I don’t know what I’d do without him.” You whispered pathetically, tears welling in your eyes.
Sam reached out to rub your arm comfortingly, trying to relax you so you didn’t start crying. He hated to see you cry— made his heart hurt.
“It’s been a long day for everyone, why don’t you go head upstairs and get some sleep. I’m sure things will have blown over by tomorrow.” He suggested and you finally met his gaze, smiling weakly and nodding.
Without saying goodbye, you stood up and headed to your room. Taking Sam’s words and playing them on repeat in your head.
Tomorrow is another day, tomorrow would be better.
God had you hoped that was the case— it only was the beginning on the torment.
You had slept in longer than usual, but overall felt refreshed. The first thing that came to mind when fully waking up was Bucky. Immediately you headed downstairs to find him— needing to talk with him— apologize.
Making it down to the kitchen, you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding in at the sight of him sitting at the island— sipping at his coffee. You furrowed your brows, thinking he'd be done with his coffee by now, since you had slept in. Your chest ached with guilt with the possibility that he didn't sleep well.
You took a deep breath before making yourself known, although you were sure be could sense you in the room— considering he was a super soldier.
"Morning Buck." You announced, walking around the island so you could face him.
He kept his gaze down at his coffee, finding the cup more interesting than you.
Okay, that’s fair. You thought, you most probably deserved that reaction.
“You sleep okay?” You asked again, picking at the skin on your nails nervously.
Again— he didn’t even lift his head. In fact, he wasn’t even acknowledging you. You waited several minutes for a response, the silence becoming thick with tension and you couldn’t stand it.
“Bucky?” You tried, and this time he lifted his head.
Your heart twinged in your chest at his bloodshot eyes, clear evidence that he hadn’t gotten good sleep. You hated yourself for causing him the stress, especially knowing he was just starting to actually get hours of sleep. It was huge progress compared to his nights either screaming awake or just staring at the walls. But now you had to go and ruin all that progress. You felt sick to your stomach— disgusted with yourself.
“I’m really sorry about last night… I didn’t like how ugly it got and I’m sorry if I said something to upset you— you know I’d never intentionally hurt you.” You told him, picking more aggressively at your nails, causing to nail beds to bleed.
You swallowed nervously when he didn’t answer right away, instead staring at you with… what was that? Disgust? You didn’t know, but you hated the look altogether.
“Bucky, please say something.” You pleaded.
Bucky lowered his gaze to his coffee again, taking a minute before he stood up and looked your way.
“I just need some space.” He told you quietly.
You were relived to have him finally talk to you, but to hear him suggest space between you two— you could almost feel the knife digging into your chest. You tried to keep a neutral expression but otherwise felt your bottom lip quiver.
Without giving you time to respond, Bucky was walking out of the room— leaving you standing there speechless, lungs begging for air. You didn’t want your mind to go immediately to that thought, but you couldn’t ignore it either— he hated you.
“Hey babe, I need you to help me out in the lab tod—” Tony came busting into the room, but immediately shut up once he saw your broken expression. “Honey, what’s wrong? You alright?”
You nodded your head, lying to him and yourself and started waving him off with the fakest smile.
“Yeah— yeah I’m good. Just need to uh— need to get some things done.” You told him, your eyes darting all around the room, the familiar feeling of panic seeping into your being.
Tony gave you a ‘really?’ look and stepped closer to you.
“(Y/n) I’m not blind— I can see you’re upset. Talk to m—”
“Seriously Tony— I’m fine! Just leave it alone!” You told him a little too aggressively.
His face was taken back and you felt guilty immediately, cursing yourself for hurting everyone.
Why are you such a fucking issue? Your mind screamed at you.
You didn’t waste another second and sped walked out of the room, needing to calm yourself down before you ran into any one else. You were spiraling and you needed to just relax— take a deep breath. Maybe you just needed one more day and things would be back to normal.
Yeah… just one more day.
You had hoped that was the case as well… but as always— things only got worse.
Bucky refused to talk to you or even look at you. He’d given you the cold shoulder for almost two weeks now. He would get up and leave the second you entered the room. He couldn’t stand you it seemed.
You couldn’t keep hiding your hurt. At first, you had done a good job at hiding how you were really feeling. Saving the sobbing and attacks for when you were alone in your room. As the days lingered on, you found yourself weak and drained— you didn’t have enough energy to put up a charade anymore.
The whole team were sending you worried looks, and attempted to talk with you. But the second they’d try— you’d bolt. The subject was too sensitive, too raw. You didn’t want to talk to anyone but Bucky— and he hated you.
You had missed so many meals, forgetting to eat with your mental struggles throughout the days. You had been getting no more than two hours of sleep. You were so stressed, so stuck in your own mind that you couldn’t function. Even when you had managed to remember to eat, your stomach would knot up to the point that you were throwing everything up. You were gaunt, basically a real life zombie. You needed help— but you needed Bucky more.
You were laying in bed staring unknowingly into space, it had been hard to focus with no food or sleep in your system— so you had only managed to lay here. Even that was exhausting, no matter how much you laid around— your mind wouldn’t stop the assault. Your anxiety had never been this bad, you were a prisoner to it.
Knocking at your door had you jumping, your heart racing— and for a moment you forgot where you were.
You’re in the compound… yeah that’s right.
You slowed your breathing and swung your legs sluggishly over the edge of the bed to answer it. You weren’t prepared for the sudden dizzy spell, your vision spotting with black and white specks. You tried to blink it off, but suddenly you were toppling to the ground.
You fell to the floor with a loud thump, luckily landing on your front, your hands somehow catching most of your fall— you could already feel the throbbing in your palms.
You didn’t hear the persistent knocking, or the door open. You didn’t even hear the voice speaking from the doorway. It was when a hand landed on your shoulder that you were gasping, forgetting your surroundings once again.
Your eyes met Steve’s and you swore your heart was about to beat out of your chest.
“(Y/n) are you alright?” He asked you, hovering his hands over you— not sure what you had hurt.
You furrowed your brows, looking him over.
“Steve what are… what are you doing here?” You asked genuinely confused.
You watched Steve’s eyes widen and he swallowed nervously— his expression growing more concerned.
“(Y/n) it’s okay… I’ve got you.” Steve hushed, and he was pulling you into his chest, hugging you protectively.
You were still confused but then you tasted one of your stray tears, and you immediately came to your senses. You were crying in Steve’s arms… but why? You were having gaps of time missing from you, this wasn’t the first time this had happened— you just didn’t seem to care.
“Steve… my head hurts.” You slurred into his chest, sagging against him.
You were grateful that he was here, you desperately needed someone around. You were just hoping that someone would’ve been Bucky.
“Okay, let’s get you to Helen. She’s gonna take care of you, okay?” Steve asked you, and you could only give a weak nod.
He knew there was no way you were walking there, so he hoisted you up into his arms, and cradled your head as he started to the med bay.
You just stared blankly at his chest, not really caring if Steve were to throw you off the roof of the building. You just didn’t care.
Steve had gotten you down to her, and she checked you out. Alerting Steve that you were extremely malnourished, dehydrated— an insomniac. She kept listing off all the things Steve was afraid to hear. The whole time he was sure you didn’t hear a thing, although you were in the room— you were just checked out.
Helen eventually left, and Steve took his opportunity to speak with you. He pulled up a chair next to the hospital bed and grabbed your hand.
“(Y/n), what’s going on? You can talk to me— you can’t keep doing this to yourself. Please… just talk to me.” Steve whispered, pleading with you that you would stop torturing yourself.
“He hates me.” You mumbled.
Steve’s eyes widened and he frowned, knowing what you meant. He knew he let this go on for too long.
“(Y/n) he doesn’t hate you. He just needed time to himself, so he co—”
“I didn’t mean to hurt his feelings, I don’t even know what I said to hurt him but I—” You rushed out, the heart monitor beeping frantically, “I’m a horrible person, I didn’t mean to— I didn’t mean to!”
You wheezed out, clutching your chest as you couldn’t catch your breath. Your cheeks glistened with a steady stream of tears, your wheezing only growing by the second.
“Okay, okay (Y/n)— I need you to slow your breathing. You’re okay, he doesn’t hate you. Just take deep breaths okay— even if you can’t just try. I’m here.” He tried to coach you, but this wasn’t his thing.
Now he was starting to get mad at his friend, Bucky shouldn’t of let this go on for this long.
You followed his chest rising and falling, staring at him as he tried to calm you down. Your breaths were heavy and painful sounding. Steve was about to say something but stopped himself when he saw your eyes look behind him.
He turned and saw Bucky standing in the doorway— his face paled. Truthfully, he looked like he was going to be sick.
“(Y/n)?” He whispered, his heart breaking at your state.
He had ran into Helen in the kitchen and was informed of your condition— he didn’t believe it and had to see for himself. He was shocked to find you like this.
Your tears only edged on from his appearance and you shook your head in shame.
“I’m sorry Bucky! Whatever I did, I’m sorry!” You sobbed and Bucky ran to the bed, kneeling down and taking your hands into his.
“Doll it’s okay, you’re okay. I’m here— I’m here. I’m not gonna leave you… I’m sorry.” He rushed out, shushing your cries, watching you slow your breathing at his words. “There we go, just keep breathing with me. I’m here, you’re okay.”
He kept repeating himself, making sure you knew he wasn’t going anywhere.
Steve knew you were in good hands and slowly snuck out of the room— knowing you two needed to talk.
Bucky tucked a stray piece of hair behind your ear, letting his fingers trail down your cheek to your jaw. You couldn’t help the way your face leaned into his touch, it felt like it had been forever since the last one.
Your breathing had slowed down, and now you just stared up at him— eyes glossy with more tears. You felt so many emotions. You felt relived, but also angry and hurt. Above all— you needed to know what you did to upset him. The guilt still ate away at your heart, and even just the memory of the argument had your chest aching.
“What did I do?” You whispered, making his eyes shoot up to yours, concern painting his face.
“You didn’t do anything.” He told you, and you furrowed your brows.
You were still anxious— he hadn’t answered your question. Even more so— if you didn’t do anything then why did he ignore you?
“Then why?”
“Why what (Y/n)?” He dared to ask, and you scoffed— ripping your hands out of his.
The anger was approaching.
“Why did you shut me out?” You wondered, and he only let his eyes cast down to the bed— making you angrier. “You ignored me for two weeks! Two fucking weeks you just acted as if I didn’t exist! Do you know how much that fucking hurts?”
You were breathing heavy again, but this time it wasn’t from panic— it was the full force of all your anger bursting out.
He lifted his eyes to you, and you saw how broken he looked. How your state had affected him.
“I could never do that to you Buck— I would never do that to you! You’re my everything! I don’t trust anyone as much as I trust you!” You raised your voice, while he stayed silent. “If I didn’t do anything then why would you— why—”
You broke out into a sob, covering your face with your hands. You felt good getting all the built up anger out— but now you felt extremely guilty. The pitiful face of Bucky staring at you, causing your heart to hurt all over again. It didn’t matter what happened, you always ended up hurting others.
“(Y/n) I’m so sorry I— god I fucked up. I didn’t ever mean to hurt you, please know that. You’re my other half, and no one has ever been there for me like you have.” He spoke through a tight throat, swelling with emotion.
You uncovered your face and just stared at him a little longer, still incredibly hurt from his actions— but you knew you couldn’t stay mad at him. You so badly wanted to forgive and forget— and just wrap him in your arms like you both needed.
“It’s hard to explain what’s wrong with me to someone when I don’t even understand what’s wrong with me— I just know I’m fucked up. I’m broken beyond repair.” His voice broke, his own eyes welling with tears.
You didn’t have it in you to keep up an angry facade, and so you reached out and took his hand in yours. His face almost immediately lit up, his breathing slowing at your touch.
“Try me.” You whispered, watching Bucky take a deep breath before he spoke again.
“The night of our fight…” He started, and you swallowed in having to remember that night. “I had never seen you look at me like that.”
You stayed silent, afraid to open your mouth and have a sob escape. You could feel it bubbling up— the memory playing back through your mind.
“You looked at me like you were scared. You looked at me like I was a monster.” He confessed and it all made sense to you now.
It wasn’t about what you said, it was your reaction that disturbed him to no ends. Even if you couldn’t control your reaction in the moment— you still felt guilty for causing him pain of remembering the hydra days.
“Oh Buck…” You whimpered, trying to pull him close— but he pulled away before he could reach your embrace.
“No— you don’t get to be nice to me after what I did. I promised I would never hurt you and I did— you’re in here because of me! I don’t deserve your forgiveness!” He raised his voice, and you weren’t scared of him— just concerned.
“I wasn’t scared of you Bucky, you just caught me off guard. Things were heated— I’m not afraid of you and I most definitely don’t think you’re a monster.” You tried to convince him.
“I really hope you’re not lying because if you were afraid of me… god I don’t know what I’d do. If you never wanted to see me again— that’s fine. Whatever you want, but I can’t live knowing you’re afraid of me.” He whimpered out.
“I wouldn’t lie to you.”
He nodded his head, knowing damn well you’d never lie. That was one thing he loved about you— you were so honest. Keeping it real with him, even if he didn’t wanna hear it. He could count on you for the truth.
“I still don’t deserve your forgiveness.” He argued.
“Well too bad, I’m forgiving you anyway.” You finally told him and he felt his chest expand.
Like he could finally breath.
“Why?” He wondered.
You knew it was the line you two had been dancing on forever— but you knew if there was ever a time to say it. It was now.
“Because I love you.” You admitted quietly.
His eyes widened just slightly, and his breath stuttered. He had always had a feeling what you two had was more than friends, he just never spoke up about it. Of course he loves you too— god he loves you so much. That’s why the thought of you being scared of him was enough to pull him away. He couldn’t bear being around you if you were frightened by him. He couldn’t live with himself. More importantly he now discovered, he really couldn’t live without you.
“I love you so much.” He confessed back as your tears leaked down your cheeks.
You pulled his arm, and he let you pull him to the bed— close enough where you could cup both his cheeks.
“Don’t ever do that to me again, please. I need you Bucky— life is not livable without you.” You cried, kissing his forehead to which he leaned into your lips.
“Never again— I promise.”
This time, he wouldn’t break it.
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TAGLIST: @engie115 @kmc1989 @ghostofwinter @silverfire13 @goldylions @potatothots @billy-reads @hanihoney88 @skittle479 @hereticdance @mentalidrainedfangirl @natashassandwich @marvelogic @soul-system @alinasmcu @almosttoopizza @lilbabygirll @sebastiansstanswhore @yujyujj @jasminocano
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harryslittlefreakk · 22 days
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obsessed
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summary: harry is your roommate, best friend … and crush 💃 he’s finally broken up with his girlfriend and you’re struggling to hide how you feel about him. loosely based on the song!!
warnings: none! fluffy fluff, teeny tiny bit of angst, mentions nudity
wordcount: 2.7k
a/n: i am a loud & proud olivia rodrigo stan sooo naturally i had to write something. it’s silly and cheesy and short! but i hope you enjoy!!
you can find my masterlist here and join my taglist here!! happy reading my loves 💖
“Guess who I saw today?”
“Who?” You didn’t even need to look up from your book to know Harry was about to throw himself down on the end of your bed, his coat and shoes still on. Every time you got home before him he’d bound into your room like a little labrador, too excited to see you to even drop his stuff down first.
“No, you have to guess.”
“Could’ve been anyone, H,” you told him, feigning reluctance as you closed your book and looked up at him. The second you heard his key rattling in the door you’d wait for the sound of your door bursting open, the butterflies in your stomach coming to life. But you’d never let him know that, so every day you’d pretend it was an annoyance to have him perched at your feet.
“Think of someone you really don’t like,” he persisted, a toothy grin nestled between his dimpled cheeks.
“Literally could be anyone.”
“Come on! Blonde hair, tall, pretty…”
Of fucking course. His stupid, evil, awful ex girlfriend. And naturally, the only way you could react to hearing about her was to reach over and shove him before crossing your arms over your chest. “Ow! What was that for?” Harry laughed, rubbing at his upper arm.
“I was having such a nice day. And then you have to come in and mention that.” It was massively childish, but you couldn’t help but feel violent every time you heard about her. She was fine for the most part, maybe a little too conceited for your taste, but she’d made Harry happy. But you’d watched from the outside as Harry went through relationships, and he always morphed into whatever version of himself he thought the girl would prefer. He stopped being your Harry, and your friendship would suffer for it. But you couldn’t say anything, could never treat his girlfriends with anything but a polite smile and quick conversation, unless you wanted to out yourself as a jealous little girl. And you definitely didn’t want to do that.
This time, however, the ability to hate her had been handed to you on a silver platter when she decided to go home with one of Harry’s friends on a night out. You were his shoulder to cry on, the one to make him smile again after days of moping around. So you had full permission to hate her, and you were relishing in it - as much as you could while still tiptoeing around Harry’s aching heart.
“She wants to meet for a coffee this week,” he told you, scrunching his eyes tight as he waited for another shove. When nothing came, he squinted over to see you rubbing at your temples. “Are you gonna?” you asked, brows furrowed as you imagined the two of them back together.
“Am I allowed?” Harry teased, turning round to lay on top of you, his face only inches from yours. “You’re a grown man, H. Couldn’t stop you even if I wanted to,” you told him, your voice void of any emotion.
“Dunno if it’s a good idea. She might find me too irresistible and then I’ll have to deal with that,” he grinned, not noticing the change in your face. You looked down as you felt your lip start to quiver, too proud to show how your heart sank. “I need to shower, H. Dinner after?” you asked, slipping out from under him and dragging your heavy limbs towards the door. He looked over at you with round, questioning eyes, only to be met by silence and a weak smile as you headed for the bathroom.
You barely got the door shut behind you before the tears came, hot and heavy drops rolling down your cheeks. You knew you couldn’t have Harry, but every minute spent with him had your heart breaking over and over again. Every little cuddle, every touch, lit you up with a fire that burned to the bones. But then you’d see the way he acts with a girlfriend, the way he loved someone, and all those moments you shared seemed silly and infantile. He was your best friend, nothing more and nothing less.
You sank to the floor, hugging your knees to your chest as the sobs wracked your body. You’d tried so hard to push away the feelings, to convince yourself that you were just confused and overwhelmed. He’s a friend, he’s a friend, he’s a friend, echoing around your mind. But deep down, you knew that no one could ever compare to Harry. He was yours, the only one to ever steal a piece of your heart.
“Y/n? M’coming in.” You froze as Harry’s voice came from the other side of the door, clamping a hand over your mouth to hold the sobs in. “I’m naked,” you called out, scrambling to your feet and wiping away your tears with your sleeve. But he opened the door anyway, stopping in the doorway when he saw your tear-stained face. “Didn’t even turn the shower on yet,” he muttered, glancing over at it.
“Why’re you crying?”
“M’not,” you whispered, choking out a giant sob as you turned your face away from Harry, sinking down onto the edge of the bath.
“Quite clearly are. Move,” he ordered, swatting you away before reaching to turn on the taps.
“What are you-”
“If you’re sad, I’m sad. And I like having a bath when I’m sad,” Harry shrugged, turning around to grab one of your bath bombs.
“I was gonna shower, you can’t-”, between the sobs, your confusion and the need for Harry not to know why you were crying, you could barely string a sentence together.
And when Harry pulled off his t-shirt, you were even more lost for words, left with your mouth gaping and only air coming out. “Joining me?” he asked, tipping too much bubble bath into the steamy water - something you’d have to scold him for later.
“I’m not getting in with you,” you told him, once you’d finally got a grip on your brain.
“Just get under the bubbles. And you can close your eyes when I get in.”
“No way.” You hugged your arms over your chest, drawing your swollen bottom lip into your mouth as you watched a shirtless Harry mix the bubble bath into the water. The way his muscles flexed, the tattoos littered across his tanned, slender frame. His skin always looked perfect, not Barbie doll smooth but irresistibly soft. Your fingers took on a mind of their own, slowly reaching out to touch him before he turned around with a smug grin. “Fine, go away then while I have my nice relaxing bath.”
“I want a bath,” you whispered, barely audible over the running water splashing into the tub. “What was that, angel?” Harry grinned, moving his towel onto the toilet seat. “I want a bath,” you told him, louder now, a tiny smile dancing on your lips.
Harry grabbed a hold of one of your hands, tugging you closer to the bathtub. He turned you around before pulling your t-shirt over your head, leaving you in just your little pyjama shorts. Just the brush of his fingertips against your bare torso sent chills down your spine. “M’not looking. Tell me when you’re in,” Harry told you, dropping your t-shirt to his feet.
You pushed your pyjama shorts and panties down your legs, checking behind you to see if Harry really wasn’t watching. True to his word, he had his eyes scrunched tight and his hand clenched over them. You’d seen each other in bathing suits and underwear so many times before, but being naked in the same room as Harry felt beyond weird. You’d never been overly shy about your body, especially with someone who made you feel as pretty and as comfortable as Harry did, but this would add a whole new layer to your friendship - and you didn’t know if you’d survive it. Still, you sunk into the bathtub and pulled the mass of bubbles to your end, trying to keep your breasts under the water before you told Harry he can look. “It’s really hard to make bubbles stay put, H,” you told him, screwing up your face as you tried to hold them steady.
He was laughing as he pulled his trousers and socks off, great big guffaws tumbling out every time the bubbles tried to escape your grip. “Want me to turn the lights down a bit? Then it’s harder to see,” he shrugged, nodding towards the light switch. You nodded, grateful that he cared enough to make sure you were 100% comfortable. It was one of the things that first drew you to Harry, and definitely what you valued most about him. He was always so kind, always caring, so willing to put anyone’s needs above his own - and that’s why relationships always changed him.
“Close your eyes then,” he said, mockingly holding two hands in front of his bulge. You rolled your eyes, finally starting to lighten up as the hot water washed over you. When Harry reached out to swat at your nose, you closed your eyes tight. You felt him stepping into the bathtub after a minute, his long legs slotting down your left-hand side.
“Hi,” he smiled when you opened your eyes. “Gonna tell me what upset you now?”
“It’s really not a big deal,” you told him, your voice small.
“It is if it made you that upset,” Harry countered, placing a gentle hand on your calf, his thumb rubbing against the soft skin.
You paused for a moment, trying to think of what you wanted to say and how to say it. “It just- she doesn’t deserve you, H. Anyone who hurts you like that doesn’t deserve any of your time and respect.” Your eyes dropped to the water as you spoke, your body frozen. Harry opened his mouth to reply, but as soon as he did, you needed to say more. “You were really sad, Harry. It sucked for you and it sucked for me too because I don’t like seeing you like that. I’ll always be there for you, you know that, but I can’t just sit and wait for her to hurt you like that again. Not when you know she’s capable of it.”
You watched the smaller bubbles popping one by one by one, suddenly anxious in the silence that followed your speech. You hated going against Harry, putting your two cents into something that really didn’t concern you, but sometimes he needed to hear it.
“I know,” he replied finally. “But do you think that because you don’t like her?”
“Harry, no! I don’t like her because she did that to you.”
“You were never her biggest fan,” he shrugged, his brows knitted when you finally pulled your eyes up to meet his.
“She changed you, H. You were different with her, less you. Everything is so surface level with her, it’s looks and Instagram likes and who’s got trouble with who. There’s no substance, nothing deeper.”
Harry’s thumb halted as he shook his head, his jaw clenching slightly. “It doesn’t always have to be deeper,” he sighed, rubbing at his chin with his free hand.
“I know it’s not my place but you need someone who brings out the best in you, you need-”
A bitter laugh from Harry stopped you in your tracks, your mouth snapping closed as a chuckle slipped out of his. He met your questioning gaze with a tiny smirk. “She always used to say you were jealous of her.”
You could feel the tears collect on your bottom eyelashes again as he said it, the words stinging like barbed wire sinking into your skin. How could you even respond? “Harry-” was all you could manage before your mouth ran dry.
“I don’t wanna fight with you, y/n,” he told you, his voice soft as he reached out for your hand. “Come here,” he whispered, tugging at your fingertips. “I’m- we-” you started, gesturing between your bare bodies with your free hand, eyes practically bulging out of your head. “Doesn’t matter,” Harry said, motioning for you to turn around.
Somewhat reluctantly, you did, leaning back into his body until your back hit your chest. You were exposed in every sense, your chest sitting just above the waterline and your heart on your sleeve. Harry wrapped an arm around your torso, his delicate touch careful not to go anywhere it shouldn’t.
“Truth is I probably need someone like you. Only one to make me happy on a shitty day, only one who gives me any effort,” he murmured, his voice so low that if he wasn’t speaking directly into your ear, you wouldn’t have heard him. Your heart quickened as he spoke, your pulse pounding against your inner wrists. “I’m not- I don’t have anything that she-” you choked out.
“S’a good thing, no?” Harry asked, turning his head just slightly until his lips brushed tentatively against your earlobe. “No, Harry. You need more, you need-”
“You,” he finished for you. “Just say the word and I’m yours, angel.”
It was like someone had handed you everything you ever wanted on a silver platter, all you had to do was reach out and take it. But it wasn’t that easy. If anything went south, you risked losing Harry forever. You shuffled back out of his grip, turning to sit in front of him, perched on your knees. You couldn’t even bring yourself to care about him seeing your body, your words willing themselves from your lips. “If anything went wrong Harry, I don’t want to lose you,” you whispered, blinking to keep the tears at bay.
“What would go wrong? We know we get along, we have the same traits and the same values. We’re already doing life together,” he reached out a hand to cup your cheek as he spoke, his eyes laced with nothing but earnestness.
“I don’t want to be your consolation prize.”
“Never. Never ever, I swear. I thought about it for a while but it never really clicked until now.”
You sunk your teeth into your bottom lip as Harry spoke, desperately needing to figure out if it was all a dream. The sensation of his touch, the sound of his voice, the gentle heat of the water – it all felt too real to be a dream. But a part of you couldn't shake the feeling that this moment was too perfect, too surreal to be true. You hesitated, unsure if you should dare to believe in the fairytale unfolding between the two of you.
As if he could see the cogs turning in your head, Harry dropped his hand from your cheek, entwining your fingers in yours instead. He squeezed lightly, the corners of his lips turning up into a little smile. "I'm here, y/n," he whispered. "This is real, promise." His words were a lifeline in the sea of doubt that threatened to consume you. Even if it was a dream, it was a dream you never wanted to wake up from.
“It’s all I ever wanted,” you confessed, allowing yourself to give into the fantasy for at least a little while. You fought the urge to search for the hidden cameras, check the date to make sure it wasn’t an April Fools prank. Harry was a goof, but you were a thousand percent sure he wouldn’t play with your feelings like that.
“Just say the word,” he repeated, his husky voice laced with sincerity and longing.
“I want this,” you whispered, clutching onto Harry’s hand as if you could fall off the Earth at any minute. His face erupted into a grin so cheesy that you couldn’t help but mirror it, eyes locked onto his as he closed the distance between the two of you.
Harry’s lips met yours softly, as if he were waiting for the other shoe to drop. But you melted into him, the air nearly knocked out of your lungs by the urgency and desire behind his soft movements. He pulled away after a minute, his forehead pressed to yours as he searched your eyes for any sign that you wanted to stop. Although all Harry was met with was a sparkle in your gaze, and a further few pecks landing on his lips. “Should’ve done this a long time ago,” he murmured against your mouth, his hands splaying across your back. “Should’ve done it before you got me naked,” you teased, succumbing once again to his kiss.
rrrr i really don’t know how i feel about this but i wanted to get something out
taglist: @angeldavis777 @softestqueeen @jerseygirlinca @palmettogal508 @drewsephrry @vonnexann @austiebuttbutt @indigo24hughes @peterparkerbae @im-an-overthinker @daphnesutton @loveableidioticweirdo @harryshotpocket @thegrapejuiceblues1982 @tenaciousperfectionunknown @swag13r @ashleighsss @tswiftsgf @chesthairrry @nikkisimps @hannah9921 @lilfreakjez @prettygurl-2009 @s-h-e-l-b-e-e @indierockgirrl @cicicavill7
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samcro-jnt · 2 years
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okay i have to say it.. but i’m going to cut it so if you don’t want to see it you don’t have too.. it’s nothing bad just about a movie commercial i’ve been seeing and i don’t want anyone to make fun of my stupid spelling mistakes.. it’s late and i don’t have the patience to look up correct spelling..
they could have given chris evans any look for “the gray man” but they went with THAT? he looks like a peaky blinder reject.. did that man dirty.. can’t believe they tried to make ryan gosling look better than him.. ugh sad.
chris over ryan any day.. sorry haha ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
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augiewrites · 2 months
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"boundaries" - dallas winston
summary: dallas carries y/n to bed
pairing: dallas winston x curtis sister!reader
word count: 478
a/n: idk if this is a dead fandom but at least three times a year i remember that the outsiders exists and become obsessed again lol
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Y/N hadn’t been sleeping well lately, so when she fell asleep on the couch Darry couldn’t bring himself to risk waking her up. The most he dared to do was drape a blanket over his sleeping sister before retreating to his bedroom for the night.
Dallas, however, didn’t give a shit.
He needed somewhere to sleep, and she was in his designated spot.
Dally had just lifted Y/N into his arms when her eyelids fluttered open, still weighed down by sleep.
“Darry?”
“No—shut up and go back to sleep.”
Y/N’s eyes snapped open at Dally’s unexpected voice and briefly registered him carrying her across the living room.
“Where we goin’?” Y/N’s voice came out in a mumble as her eyes fell shut again.
“Bed. Need a place to crash tonight.”
“And you chose my room? Gonna be a tight fit.”
Glory, she’s annoying even when she’s barely conscious, Dally thought, but he was too tired to be his usual combative self.
The hallway was dark, but he could see the shimmer of her eyes looking up at him from the void. He never liked the way she looked at him—there was too much hope, too much recognition, too much of an implication that she knew something he didn’t.
Dallas wasn’t exactly known for being respectful, but Darry’s acceptance of him meant a lot more to him than he would ever be willing to admit—even to himself. So, despite becoming quite fond of Y/N, he kept his distance. If there was one thing Dallas loved to do, it was to test the boundaries of every relationship he’s ever had, both friendly and romantic.
This was one boundary Dallas had reservations about crossing.
“Do you hate me, Dallas?” There was a softness in Y/N’s voice that was rare to hear coming from the girl.
Dallas paused in the threshold of Y/N’s bedroom and dared a glance down into her eyes, but quickly snapped out of it and kept moving across the room to her small bed.
“No, stupid.” He unceremoniously dropped her on the bed and turned to move out of the room, but he was stopped by her calling out to him.
“You not gonna tuck me in, Winston?”
He threw a glance over his shoulder and was met with the knowing glint in her eyes that he was ever-growing uneasy of.
Catching himself, he snapped back into character, scoffing and throwing a stupid plush dog at her head. He remembered the gang’s trip to the state fair a few years back, remembered how excited she was when Soda won it for her after seven tries at the ring toss, and he remembered her shoving it in his face while teasing that the K-9 unit was coming for his sorry ass.
“Go to bed.”
The door closed behind him with a solid thud.
Stupid girl.
~~~
i'm trying to get back in the writing groove but i'm so uninspired lol—feedback is appreciated as usual :)
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angsthology · 3 months
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“YOU CAN’T DISAPPOINT A PICTURE” — or an alt title: roo vs. jenson to roo and jenson
from the freezing act and disappearing act to no choice not to act (do i know what i meant? absolutely not.)
a/n yarg hey this is set on 2022 and the rest of 2023, after the events of the great (coming not so soon but im workin on it)
THE KANGAROO VS. THE WORLD
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2022
it was her first points. her first points... ever in formula one. she was on… a different kind of high. nothing was going to ruin that moment for her. nothing except one.
as of right now, she was not noticing anything else besides the man in front of her—and even that was debatable.
this time, it was her turn to be catatonic.
daniel, who was one of the blokes lucky enough to witness what was currently happening in front of him could not help but laugh, well, he was putting his entire life into not laughing. but, well, it was hard not to.
he’s—no one, has ever seen her like this before.
she was usually so… either kept to herself or an absolute menace. there was really no in-between. but one for sure thing she always is was functional, even is the function is cracked up to a hundred or zero. so to see her malfunctioning was way funny for daniel.
daniel, still giving his entire life not to laugh, answers the question for her, “of course, she will! right, kid?”
at that, her blubbering stopped and her attention was fixed on the australian—that had betrayed her.
her mind was still reeling in—half present and half out of it, “i—yea—huh?” she looked towards daniel for… anything.
he didn’t respond with anything else and pulled on her race suit that was now unzipped and collecting around her waist down, her top half showing off the crimson-red fireproofs she wore underneath.
her mind was going faster than an rb19 and the next thing she knew she was sitting in the middle of a very fine world champion she was so ready to risk everything for and… and daniel ricciardo.
she was so in her own world, she failed to notice the former calling out her name.
oh my god, he knows my name, she thought.
she cleared her throat, posture changing feigning ‘professionalism’, “what was that?”
“congratulations on scoring your first points today!”
she blinked. she knew what he said. she was just… processing.
truly, she didn’t know how or why it happened or even what had happened at all but she somehow ended up in a finger guns position pointing at her long-time celebrity crush.
she stayed at the end position for quite a while. besides the sound of the track and every other surroundings, it was quiet. jenson was too stunned to speak; roo was berating herself in her head absolutely throwing every curse word in her head—if anyone were to read her mind right now, they would start crying from all the screams and cries of her own stupidity. daniel—now, daniel on the other hand; was having the time of his life. the dam had broken and he was now clutching his stomach besides the girl laughing his ass off.
his—very loud, very distracting—laugh paused her inner turmoil at herself and directed all towards him. her eyes were void of any emotions and her entire look was unpredictable. she narrowed her eyes at the australian before quickly fisting her hand out to hit the man right where he was clutching it, making him grunt in shock and eventually drop to the ground groaning—his laugh somehow still straining behind.
still in pain, from both his laughter and the hit, daniel managed between discomfort, “oh—you’re good, man, you’re good.”
her eyes were still trained down to the rolling australian, giving him her deadliest-calmest glare later on slowly look up to meet jenson’s; completely freezing in her spot once more with eyes wider than max’s winning gap as if his stare was one of medusa’s.
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later on, she found herself in the haas—they stopped trying to get rid of her eventually—hospitality with mick sitting on one of the chairs and herself pacing around the room talking his ear off.
“i hate daniel! i hate him! i told him a million times! i never wanted to meet jenson in person! i just wanted a picture! i hate him so much!” she whined, stomping around the room dramatically.
eventually she sat herself down next to mick. not knowing how else to respond, he extended his hand and giving her a few pats on the shoulder.
“you know, he’s probably was very happy to see you too.” he tries.
“don’t.”
he raised both his hands in surrender.
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it was an interesting sight to see: britney spears walking and talking with snoopy in the paddocks.
“i just think he’s neat, you know.” she explained with a shrug.
the older man chuckled with a shake of his head, “you do know you’re talking about a cartoon dog, right?”
she gasped, “rude. he is the cartoon dog.” with a hand over her heart, she then continues, “he’s more than that! he’s a pilot, an icon, and most importantly; a best friend.” she paused, remembering a detail she forgot to mention, “—to woodstock. i don’t care about charlie brown, that kid’s an idiot.”
nico made a contemplating face, “you’re so mean to him why—”
she was about to reply until she was cut off by a british accent that made her entire blood run cold and paralyze her nerves, eyes widening slightly—position permanently cemented to the ground where her body jerked to a stop.
“oh, hey, jense!” he greeted back, turning his attention and entire body away to face the blonde getting closer.
to her dismay, he waved the world champion over.
(what is that—what the hell?! I’M SWEATING BULLETS LIKE A FUCKING WATERFALL.)
he was getting closer.
(FUCK!—what do i do?)
closer.
“yeah, i was just here talking to—” nico said as jenson was in easier earshot, his hands already motioning to his side. just as he turned around the moment the brit arrived by his side, he was met with dust. besides that, no other evidence showed there was once a girl in an alfa romeo racing suit next to him. “wha—kid?” he looked around, “where’d she go?”
jenson frowned slightly, “ah. sorry about that, mate. most likely my fault.”
nico turned to him confused, “what?”
he shrugged sadly, “i don’t know. that kid is like allergic to me i think—never got any chance to properly talk to her.”
again nico put his thinking face on and after a good few conversations with himself in his head, his face cracked up with a smile.
he slapped jenson’s back and rest his hand there—shocking him in the process—“believe me, she doesn’t.”
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end of 2023
she. was. done.
finally.
this year was definitely not her year and she was glad it was over.
during their final debrief mick was her pillar; she was on her last set of batteries and was about to shut down, the entire time she had her head resting on his shoulder half-asleep. he didn’t complain, thankfully—surprisingly none of her team either.
after they declared dismissed, she was so ready to be hauled—by who, she didn’t really know. but man she wished—back to her bed—did not matter which one but whichever the closest was—and pass out until the next season starts.
unfortunately, it was not that easy yet for her.
the only people left in the room was her, porsche’s team principal, his assistant, her head engineer, and... mikey.
now that she really thinks about it, she doesn’t really know what it is mikey does.
“you look rough.” the man started. “not wearing any makeup today?” he asked genuinely. he knew how much makeup therapy usually improves her mood, which is why it made sense to him seeing her so—gone.
“i am wearing makeup.”
“oh.”
“yeah.”
he motioned for her to take a seat, and so she did.
the air was… unreadable. usually it’s pretty light with them, they loved her and she loves them. maybe it was the lack of mick in the room?
she was so tired, she didn’t care for the thick silence in the room, opting to just break it herself.
“am i getting sacked? are you going to make me burn my own contract?”
she was getting dangerous. tired roo means her defense systems are losing charge—if she was a drinker, this would be a glimpse of her in an honest drunk state.
no one really stopped her so her mouth just kept moving, “i mean, i wouldn’t be surprised after the year i had i was kinda shit—i’d be pretty sad, though. i love you guys. i love you,” she looked at her engineer, “i love you,” she looked to her personal trainer, “i love you,” to her team principal. and last but not least, “and i love you.” she looked slightly up at her team principal’s assistant that stood behind him.
“oh good grief, when the hell is he getting here?” the man in the middle whispered under his breath as he rubbed his forehead, in the background the driver still mindlessly listing all the people she loves.
“and i love that guy who always has chocolate for me—oh wait that’s mick again.”
“just got a text from jackie says they’re close.” whispered back mikey.
as if on cue, right after mikey locked his phone, the door opens—thankfully—stopping roo’s listing, catching all of their attentions.
she was still yapping when she turned to the door but came to an abrupt stop when she sees the person who walks in.
the man waved.
“oh no, it’s jenson button.” she says flatly—at this point it was like she was drugged with truth serum; her words held no emotions or feelings whatsoever, but everyone was sure it was all genuine.
she was about to turn back to her team when with no warnings, no wind, no signs, she was hit with a tsunami—not even joking. the moment her head turned her face was splashed with a bucket of cold water.
so. so. cold.
oh that definitely woke her up.
“WHAT THE FU—”
as if she hadn’t had enough thrown at her, a towel was draped over her head before she can finishing cursing out her team. (one, to dry her up and two, to shut her up.)
emerging from under her towel, she looked towards the three culprits’, eyes going from jenson button at the front of the room and back to them, “in front of jenson button?!” she scolded in a whisper.
“it humanizes you,” explained her team principal shortly.
she quieted. sucked in a breath and stare at him flatly, “die.”
mateo—her team principal—was unfazed by it, opting to ignore her comment instead and continue with the business they had originally set up for.
“now that you’re awake,” he started.
“whatever.” she rolled her eyes.
ignoring her, mateo continues, “i’m going to put this in simple words you’ll understand.”
“why do you hate me?”
“i know you don’t like to talk about… whatever the hell this year was, but one thing for sure, we—” he motioned towards himself, mikey, and olivia (her head engineer), “—decided it’d be good for you to have a manager.”
she stayed silent, blinking her thoughts in until she found her words;
“and he is… your best candidate?” she asked stiffly motioning to the british driver that she’s sure can kill her with a stare.
mateo looked anywhere but anyone, slightly dodging the question. he shrugged, “well.”
“seriously?!” commented the world champion. he rolled his eyes and made way to sit on the chair next to hers, slightly making the hair on her arms rise. “look, kid, i know it’s probably going to be hard for you to even be in the same room with me—but i promise, i would not be doing this if i weren’t sure of you. you are one of the best talents i’ve seen in my life and i think i could help you reach a lot more good things.”
she took in his words and she’d be lying if hearing all those things coming out of his mouth didn’t give her a type of sensation—butterflies in her stomach, warmness in her heart, and the burning tears building behind her eyes—and a surge of courageous in her veins.
she smiled, “no, i think you’re right. and, i mean, i’m in the same room as you right now and i’m all fine.”
after that, papers were signed and deals were made, and to her; the rest was history.
(including all her previously embarrassing moments.)
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princess (mick) HSAZGFKJSDGS YOU WOULD NOT BELIEVE i js died oh my god what did i do
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te1enoviyuh 🎵 Simple Minds • Don't You (Forget About Me)
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liked by f1porsche, atticusingh, and 4,476,928 others
tagged: jensonbutton
te1enoviyuh mischief not managed zzz
see all 487 comments.
roomcgrittle CONSTABLE REGGIE
buttoncunt JENSON????? kid r u even alive still
dunphyrrari did u fall asleep typing the caption
te1enoviyuh dunphyrrari okay thats funny u deserve a notice
dunphyrrari te1enoviyuh I WON
f1porsche Watch out (the rest of) 2024 they’re coming for you. 😉
selvnika i thought *i* was your manager...
te1enoviyuh selvnika if anything IM your manager. your around the clock arounf the world babysitter
sargeantist selvnika now hold on... back tf UP. WDYM MANAGER??
schupastry sargeantist JUST STAY CALM DO NOT MAKW ANY ASSUMPTIONS.
disneyprincemuke im just here for the ride tbh
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bonus
mateo sighs at his phone, his employee no better than before she had management.
“do you ever regret this? ‘cause i do. —kinda.” commented the unlucky woman known as her pr manager (jackie.)
“who thought this was a good idea, again?”
being the self-aware king himself; mikey immediately choked on his water and quickly made his escape.
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anyone noticed a cameo? not proofread | taglist; @treehouse-mouse @disneyprincemuke @yansbolobao @leilanixx @judespoision @vellicora @bborra @woozarts crossed out means i cant tag u
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spacedace · 8 months
Text
Reluctant War AU Part 3
Part 1 Part 2
More of the brain worm that has taken me over, gonna probably post it to Ao3 here before too long. Already got another part started and so many ideas for additional stuff, someone please send help I've been consumed by this thing lol
Sorry if Waller seems out of character, outside of fandom I'm mostly familiar with her through Justice League the animated show & Justice League: Unlimited and her vibe there has always struck me as "deeply incredibly unlikable character that also kind of has a point but also has done so much fucked up shit in the name of her goals that you don't really care about her point anymore." So you know, complicated lol. If she's completely unrecognizable let me know, but I'm hoping she feels at least somewhat like Waller.
Forgot to say this in the last update, but still feel free to use all this as an overly long prompt if yall want. Literally anything I throw out to the void should be treated as a prompt lol If there's anything at all interesting to you in any of this nonsense go for it <3 <3 <3
---
Amanda Waller was someone who did what needed to be done.
Ruthless, heartless, vicious, cruel.
She’d been called it all. Wore the words thrown as insults as a badges of pride and valor. Because at the end of the day, when it came to the problems she was given to face, the issues she was meant to solve, those words meant she’d done what others had been too squeamish or cowardly to do. Life was a never ending slog of trolley problems and she the only one unshakable enough to pull the levers that needed pulling.
It wasn’t so simple as a matter of greater good.
Greater good was what the weak willed muttered to themselves after having feelings over doing the bare minimum. A justification used by people on all sides to do what they wanted with fractured, faulty logic thrown around like truth was a thing immutable. To assuage their guilt when they were forced to make a call they didn’t want to.
It wasn’t a matter of greater good. It was a matter of preservation. Of protection. Of digging through the filth to find the threats skittering beneath and crush them with ruthless abandon. Of facing a god and not blinking because if you did it could cost the world.
Of doing what needed to be done, no matter how underhanded or atrocious it was.
Hands dirty.
Hands red.
Hands wrapped tight around the throat of something that could threaten to destroy it all.
When the Ghost Investigation Ward had been shoved her way with it’s sucking wound of a budget, it’s bloated incompetent staff, its asinine methods she’d seen a rotted limb in need of hacking off. It hadn’t been until she’d been conducting her inspection, digging through the trash for a few pearls of effective agents she could snatch up and put to work elsewhere, that she’d truly seen what they were working on. The potential.
Potential to better arm themselves with in the forms of the strange new weapons being created.
Potential for threats far greater than anything even she had thought possible before.
The GIW as it had been when she’d first come across it was a fetid waste of time and resources. A laughing stock agency only secret because no one took them seriously enough to look. Made stupid and useless with its own conceited delusions of importance it didn’t actually have. Yet.
She went to work on it. Hacking away as she’d originally intended, but this time with a different goal in mind. She ripped out the weeds with bare, calloused hands and planted proficiency and loyalty in their place. She took over as director herself, tossing the self-aggrandizing fool that had been running the place into the ground to the dogs as the culprit for misappropriate spendings, saving the agency by tweaking things until their ballooning budget was pinned neatly onto the former director as an embezzling charge.
Then she got to work.
The Fentons were brilliant, if entirely insane. But Amanda could work with that. She’d reigned Harley Quinn in - more or less - she could do the same to the two deranged scientists that so eagerly wanted to be apart of the fight against the dead. Especially when the benefit came in the form of the inventions they threw together so easily, especially when those inventions were weapons.
It took very little to get them on board with her plans for the GIW. Keeping their focus could be a chore, at times, but she didn’t even have to really do much in the way of pressing to get them back where she wanted them. They craved knowledge and understanding nearly as much as they craved the eradication of the entities themselves. Letting them have the first look at a new subject here, free reign over a vivisection there, it took so little to fuel their fervor and keep them busy working on the projects she set for them.
Things had been going smoothly.
For a time at least.
Until Phantom.
He’d been the main focus of the previous director’s attention, the big fish he’d so desperately wanted to catch and put up on his wall. Amanda wouldn’t lie and say it wasn’t a tempting prospect, but not one she’d put above the other projects she had set in motion since taking over. No, Phantom was powerful, enough to be a real problem one day, but she could the awkward youth in the way he held himself, the inexperience in how he handled situations. She had time to get everything else in order before focusing on getting Amity Park’s would-be hero brought to heel.
And he would be brought to heel. One way or another.
Hands dirty.
Hands red.
Hands wrapped tight around the Core of a fledgling god and bending him to her will.
An artifact, old an powerful, recovered with some effort. A means of controlling specters, of chaining them to the will of the artifact’s wielder. Dangerous in the wrong hands. Dangerous in the right hands.
It was shattered, and even whole and functional Phantom was resistant to its power. But Amanda Waller prided herself in her ability to see the potential in things. It could be repaired, be made better. Even gods could be bound, be made to kneel, with the right pieces, with the right application of force.
It was just a matter of time to gather everything needed.
Phantom didn’t know he could single handedly destroy every last member of the Justice League. The baby fat, the innocent eyes, the split-second hesitations when he fought. He knew enough to be confident in fighting the usual ghosts that haunted Amity Park, but he still very much saw himself as a little fish. Maybe it was the part of him that was still Daniel Fenton, gangly teenager not quite sure what he was truly capable of yet.
She had time before the Fenton’s son truly became an issue. Time to judge if his parents’ obsessiveness would overcome their - rather shoddy, by Amanda’s estimation - parental instincts and continue to hunt him once they knew the truth. Time to get as much out of them as she could before hand, should they falter at the idea of attacking their own son. Time for the staff to be repaired and returned to working order, to get the other items needed for the truly big fish hidden on the other side of the veil between worlds.
She had time.
Until she didn’t.
Pariah Dark had not been something she thought she’d have to account for - not yet, at least.
If he wasn’t already dead, she’d ring the Ghost King’s neck with her bare hands. His arrival had opened Phantom’s eyes to what he was capable of, of just how big of a fish he was. Worse still, Phantom’s defeat of the war mongering King changed the state of play. Phantom was no longer an impressively powerful half dead teenager.
He was King Infinite.
He was an Ancient.
He was getting on her last damn nerves.
Phantom’s rogue gallery were now firmly under the boy’s control. Still distinct nuisances around Amity Park, but no longer considered true concerns. They were loyal to their boy king, delighting in ruffling his feathers but never crossing the line into treason or attempted regicide. Which meant that the GIW was the only thing that held his attention.
Amanda took the time to send a care package to the former GIW director in his tiny, dank prison cell. As thanks for his carelessness in revealing to the entire town - both living and dead - of the agency’s existence and their intentions. Had he stuck to standard protocol, Phantom would have been none the wiser to their presence. Would have scratched his head and shrugged his shoulders at the ghost that went missing upon occasion. Would have been boredly uninterested in the people his parents had begun working with. Would have been taken by surprise when they finally came for him.
But no.
No that self-obsessed, fame chasing imbecile had to go and announce to everyone and their dead mother that the GIW existed and exactly what it was they were in Amity Park to do.
Phantom knew what they were there to do.
They could only count on his naive certainty that he could broker peace with them for so long.
Peace. As if he and his people weren’t the invading force, the monsters slipping in through the cracks between worlds, the latest threat that had to be accounted for. As if he himself hadn’t rent their world asunder himself in another world, another time. No. Peace was not something they could hash out with this baby-faced monarch with his too-big crown. Peace was the assurance of safety, security. Of control of the situation.
There could be no peace.
The higher ups were somehow surprised when Phantom took that to mean there would be war.
Amanda Waller was not.
The Fentons, as suspected, took the right side when all was revealed. Steady hands and flinty eyes as they crafted the weapons that would be needed for the coming fight. Minds even sharper in their maddened grief, hearts set on revenge for the son lost and the entity that stole his face and friends and sister in his garish pretense at humanity. They were blinded to the reality of the situation in its entirety, the potential in what their son truly was, but at the end of the day it didn’t really matter. They did what she needed them to do, they could believe whatever it was they wanted so long as they did.
By the time the boy king and his armies marched upon the Amity park facility, preparations had been put into place. The base in Amity had been stripped back to bare essentials, everything of importance moved to more secured locations.
The weapons labs.
The artifact.
The girl.
All tucked well away from the front lines where Phantom and his motley crew could not reach. Their time to be put in play would come, but not yet. First she needed to gauge what Phantom and his people were capable of, what they were willing to do in the name of what they wanted. Amity Park was a pawn well sacrificed on that front. As were the other facilities she’d left easy to find.
The problem with making children gods, with giving them crowns and calling them King and giving them armies to play with, was that they thought there should be rules. That even in the trenches tearing apart their enemies, there was a certain level of playing fair that everyone was held to. They thought there was a way the world worked, of how things should be that blinded them to more effective options even as time stretched on and desperation set in.
It was the Dead’s problem though, not hers.
She reached out to the Justice League. Sour faced, unhappy, bitterly reluctant to accept that she needed their help. Stone faced and barely containing their rage at what little they knew of the situation, they agreed to a meeting.
She didn’t let herself smile until she was well and truly alone in her office.
Greater good. A lie people told themselves. A fairytale told to children. A means of convincing the weaker willed that they had no choice, that they had a noble duty to bend to. A belief that could be wielded like a weapon if the fantasy of the idea had dug in deep enough. And there were few it had dug into so deep as the members of the Justice League.
Amanda Waller was someone who did what needed to be done.
Hands dirty.
Hands red.
Hands clenched tight on a victory long in the making.
---
Part Four
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silantryoo · 27 days
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BONUS [ LIKEALOOK ] — goodbye, my danish sweetheart.
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yoo jimin, third year
WARNINGS; objectification, outing, mentions of homophobia, mentions of sexual acts, self-sabotage, cheating, mentions of coercion, power imbalance, victim blaming (2.5k)
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yoo jimin hasn't looked in a mirror since alex had left the team.
her best friend, the girl that she trusted, slept with the girl she loved. she didn't care whether or not alex was drunk, whether it was before anything went down between her and yeji.
she knew how jimin felt, how yeji was there for her during her injury, how much their captain helped her. jimin had even told alex how her stomach fluttered whenever she and their captain talked, and how her heart seemed to combust at the thought of yeji visiting her at the hospital.
alex should've known.
"she left the team."
a string of words, one of which should've given her a sense of relief. she longed for the euphoria, and the heavy weight from her chest lifted. jimin thought she would finally breathe the clean air she had desperately wished for.
it was poison, fire and acid mixed and poured down her throat. her lungs burnt, scarred as she struggled to breathe.
it was not only the air, but everything she touched. every surface - steel, metal, skin - seemed to bubble under her corrosive touch. all of the things she touched enveloped in the concoction that plagued her being.
guilt.
jimin had never felt as angry as she ever did. the lava that laid dormant inside her body could no longer sit still. everything had led up to the destruction of her and those around her.
alexandra baek was yoo jimin's best friend.
she knew her secrets, the lengths the younger girl would go to just to hide them. the things the younger volleyball player kept behind a locked door, she willingly let jimin have access to. it was eerily similar, the terror of disappointment shrouded alex the same way it did jimin.
jimin knew her weaknesses, all of them, even the ones that would ruin the younger girl's life.
"why is alex avoiding you?" aeri scrolled through her phone, and jimin could see her reading their texts over. "did you threaten her or something?"
threaten? no, jimin did much worse.
"i didn't."
aeri huffed, clearly not pleased with her answer. she thought this stupid feud would blow over. jimin cherished the younger girl, much like a sister.
she wouldn't throw that away for anyone, much less yeji.
"look, i know the whole thing with yeji is shit right now," aeri started, mentally noting the understatement. "and you're probably pissed at her for leaving the team, but she needs you right now."
jimin closed her eyes, picturing the creature she found staring back at her a few weeks ago. the one with soulless eyes, void of guilt, of compassion. dark brown eyes that only burned rage.
it was her father's eyes in her own.
"jimin..."
she didn't know why she felt like that, why it felt so good to finally erupt, to cause harm and hurt others the way they hurt her.
she was still a good person. jimin knew she had to be. this was just a momentary slip. it was just an accidental mishap.
"jimin." aeri sighed. "her parents found out."
guilt.
she knew.
she was the one who told the baek's about their daughter's fling. jimin had heard the slurs that were thrown over the phone, damning their own child for the things she felt.
she knew, she did it.
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shin yuna was getting prettier each day.
she couldn't help but notice how the younger girl seemed to shine on court as of late. she liked the way yuna walk around like she owned the place, even though she clearly didn't. the way she silently smirked to herself whenever she got a kill lured jimin in.
it was like watching herself, without having to look at what she was becoming.
yeji glanced at her ace, grinning at the predatory look in her eye. it was refreshing to see jimin like this, void of morals and thinking only about what would please her.
it was only a matter of time.
"nice view?"
jimin recoiled, eyes harsh on her captain, watching her smirk. she hated how yeji seemed to think that the two of them were similar. of course, she found shin yuna attractive. it was shin yuna.
sue her for staring at yuna's legs.
jimin grumbled under her breath, walking away from yeji and sitting on the bench, near the others.
"bitch."
she couldn't believe that she dated that monster.
"that's odd." yuna stretched, and jimin felt a gnawing pit in her stomach. "yeji-sunbae's usually nice."
the girls in the vicinity glanced at her.
the yeji they knew was angry, hot-headed and rude. she'd rather rip your head off then say thank you for holding the door open. more often than not, yeji actually did yell at you for holding the door open.
"that's only because she wants to sleep with you, yuna." haewon shook her head, drinking from her bottle.
"you think so?" the freshman sat up, smiling coyly. "i mean, i am pretty hot."
jimin's eyes shot to yuna's smile, and she found herself clenching her jaw, biting back a hum of agreement.
what was she doing? she already had y/n. jimin didn't need more. maybe she craved more, but she would never ever cheat.
jimin calmed herself. finding one of her teammates attractive wasn't cheating. she didn't have any romantic feelings for the younger girl, anyway. it was just curiosity.
if jimin happened to imagine yuna in her bed from time to time, so what?
"that's not something to be proud of." chaeryeong muttered. she couldn't believe this was her crush's younger cousin. "that's like being happy a serial killer chose to kill you because you'd look pretty dying."
yuna shrugged. "and?"
"god." haewon could only sigh. out of everyone she's ever met, yuna seemed to be the most insane sane person. "i hope they don't make you captain next year."
jimin frowned, drowning them out as she took her shoes off.
she needed to stop letting yeji get to her. for as long as she's known her, yeji always pushed jimin's buttons. it was endearing at first, yeji claiming that she liked when jimin's eyebrows furrowed, how cute she looked when she frowned.
jimin didn't realize until now that yeji just liked pissing her off. she liked mentally tormenting her for some sick reason. the way the captain shoved her flaws in her face was to anger her, because it was funny.
it wasn't, and it never has been.
she didn't want to focus on yeji, not anymore. not when jimin had finally gotten the perfect girl, the girl that everyone had wanted.
l/n y/n.
she was adorable, caring in a way that jimin had never experienced. she'd constantly check on the older girl, asking about the little things that jimin didn't even think of.
the other day, y/n had even asked her if she ate. when jimin said no, she suggested that the two of them should go out together for food.
she had never experienced that type of care, considering yeji was her first and only relationship before y/n.
jimin glanced at wonyoung, sparing her a glare in which the younger girl returned by the tenfold.
jang wonyoung lucked out. it was a good thing jimin had managed to take what's rightfully hers.
"jimin-sunbae?" yuna asked, pulling jimin's gaze away from the heiress. "you took history of classical dance right?"
jimin nodded. "for my elective, yeah."
"do you have the notes?" yuna's voice sounded sweet, like a peach waiting to be eaten. "i have it this year and gaeul-sunbae refuses to give them to me."
"it's better to learn and write the notes yourself." gaeul muttered, putting on sweats over her shorts. "i told you, if you need help understanding the material after, i can help you study-"
"no." yujin tensed, her voice tight. her once expressive eyes turned firey as she looked at yuna. "i don't want yuna in our dorm. she might steal."
jimin rolled her eyes. yujin had been guarding gaeul like a dog since yeji managed to get her hands on the setter.
(she didn't understand how yeji could go from her to gaeul, considering the two were only similar in vulnerability.)
"i will not!" yuna whined, jimin's ears burning red. "maybe gaeul-sunbae's heart but-"
yujin paused, her body tense as she stood up from the bench. her fists were clenched, and her body language seemed to read pure rage, but jimin could see the way her lip quivered.
"excuse me?"
pain.
jimin had been feeling that recently, too.
"unnie," wonyoung muttered, tugging yujin's hand. jimin could see gaeul purse her lips, and it didn't take a genius to understand why. "sit down before gaeul-unnie scolds you."
yujin grumbled, begrudgingly sitting back down in between gaeul and wonyoung. the oldest of the three seemed down all of a sudden, and jimin wondered how gaeul could stand to be near wonyoung when all she did was take yujin's attention.
jimin hoped that one day, gaeul would wake up and face the horror that was jang wonyoung.
"i can give it to you tomorrow."
"i'll just drop by later." jimin froze. "my first exam's next week."
she didn't know why, but the thought of having yuna in her dorm set her skin on fire. jimin felt like she was suddenly lit by a match, her brain running wild.
she shook her head. jimin didn't need anything else but y/n. the volleyball player felt so emotionally fulfilled by the younger girl, even when their kisses felt empty and when y/n's words felt half-hearted.
"why'd you wait so long?" haewon knew that yuna was gonna bomb the test. "you're gonna fail at this rate."
still, it wouldn't hurt to urge aeri out, to make sure she spends the night with whoever the hell she meets at the club.
"yujin said that i have plenty of time to study."
besides, jimin didn't like yuna. nothing was going to happen.
she wasn't yeji, nor was she her father.
"yujin probably as a 0.1 gpa."
she wasn't a monster.
"i do not!"
even if her mirror told her otherwise.
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the most painful thing about the divorce was watching her father leave.
he had gotten her a maroon luggage when she had accepted suma's offer. it was embezzled with a gold zipper, and a metal handle that gleamed against bright light. she took it with her on her first year, putting all her belongings snug inside. she used it to go back home, when her acl ripped in half and she could no longer play.
jimin had also watched it get taken away when her father packed in a rush, her mother crying on their bed begging him to stay, to love them instead of his mistress.
jimin knew if he did, she would have forgiven him.
staying was more important in the end.
a soft knock on the door rattled throughout jimin's empty dorm. she sat up, dressed in semi-decent clothes, breathable and easy to take off.
jimin reached for the door, opening it.
"sunbae."
nothing was gonna happen. she wasn't gonna cheat, especially not with yuna. jimin would never abuse her status, nor disregard her relationship like that.
but something burnt within her, something that resembled her father on a tuesday afternoon.
"yuna, hey." jimin could hear her voice echoing back in her ears, and she wasn't so sure why it sounded so... ravenous. "i left the notes on my desk. you can just grab them."
yuna nodded, her eyes trailing jimin's figure as she stepped inside. the room buzzed with a dull hum as jimin closed the door behind her, yuna walking up to her senior's desk.
jimin walked next to the younger girl, capturing her perfect side profile and ingraining it in her brain.
"how tall are you?"
there was a light in her eyes, something that jimin used to see in hers. it gleamed brightly, reflecting all yuna's wants of perfection, of hope - all of which jimin knew would amount to nothing.
she wanted to be the first one to crush it, to ruin it.
"i'm 169cm." yuna grinned, standing up a little straighter to brag. "my mom said i'm still growing though, so i'm hoping to reach 170cm next sem."
she didn't care about the consequences, not right now. jimin just wanted to break the mirror.
"your mom said that?" it was adorable how yuna seemed so pure with every intention, and jimin couldn't help but wonder if there was something more sinister underneath. "you're cute."
jimin grabbed the binder of notes, her fingertips brushing against the younger girl's as she handed it over.
yuna's eyes glazed over as she froze, and jimin couldn't hear anything but her heartbeat.
just like before, on the phone with the baek's, all she felt was power - an adrenaline rush that overrode her senses. she couldn't feel the pain, nor the guilt.
all she felt was a high like she was midjump, where her eyes were above the net, looking down at everyone who looked down on her.
jimin leaned it, her lips gently on yuna's.
yuna pulled back abruptly, a tug of confusion worming through the lust she felt. "i thought you were with someone."
jimin should've felt guilty. she should've snapped out of it and apologized, ushering yuna out and immediately sending an apology to y/n about what transpired.
"does that bug you?" she whispered, feeling her breath bounce back off of yuna's lips.
she couldn't find it in herself to care anymore, not when it felt this good.
"...no."
jimin deserved to feel good once in a while.
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their limbs tangled as yuna lay naked, asleep on top of jimin.
the volleyball player stared at the ceiling, her mind whirling with the guilt that seemed to multiply with each breath her junior took.
jimin closed her eyes, tears falling from the sides of her face.
it felt good to have control, to watch someone wither and plead, begging her to instill whatever she wanted onto them. she liked the way yuna was under her, both metaphorically and physically. it gave her a high that no one, not even y/n could provide.
it was like ruining herself, punishing herself for everything wrong with her life.
still, the guilt managed to burrow its way through.
she wondered if y/n would react the same way as her mother, or if she would go run back to wonyoung, tears in her eyes as she cried and cried.
she couldn't let that happen,
besides, it wasn't actually cheating. jimin never once let yuna touch her. she would never let anyone but the girl she was with strip her power away from her.
even if she did, jimin would never think once about leaving y/n.
y/n was everything she wanted, in soul, body, and mind. she'd be stupid to ruin the trophy that she had worked so hard to win.
jimin wasn't her father. she wasn't going to leave. she was a good person, searching for good things in her life.
she shouldn't feel guilty. she had nothing to feel sorry for. jimin did nothing wrong. she couldn't have, otherwise, she was no better than her deadbeat father.
she wasn't her father. she couldn't be, she wouldn't let herself be.
jimin closed her eyes, drowning out the sound of yuna's breathing.
rage had consumed yoo jimin, and there was no turning back.
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masterlist | next
taglist (CLOSED)!!
@serenitygrace24 @moontealemonpie @writingficsblog @kittyeij @cutieseo @limbforalimb @ahnneyong @yumtooki @lcv3lies @sserajeans @jiwoneiric @babycubchae @trsrina @xyxlyn @misumiausworld @slowlyturninggay291 @awkwardtoafault @captivq @ddeonutz @noiacha @sserabey @d7dream @slowlyturninggay291 @lvwr @perfectsunlight @juhyunsthirdwife @uzumakioden @txtbrainrot @rosiehrs @yunjinhart @skisk1 @bzeus28 @deeznutzryu @jisooftme @danistolemyheart @li0ilthecxnt @eggomi @ddoxhan @zhivaxo @sweet-dhrafts @livelaughloveyujin @luveuly @marimo-anura @yunnybunnyy @ivy-aurora @wonyoluvr
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kruzbr · 3 months
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hahh yea thats the stuff
rant time ig (and spoilers? idk if me just not being super happy with the new season/series is spoilers but just in case be warned)
idk man it feels like the show isn't even written by the same people as the original show. joanfk doesn't happen radada whatever but the writing just isn't the same either and I just don't find it fun anymore (sometimes I wish I could be one of u bleacher creature enjoyers, yall seem to be having the good time that I'm not having). the 'new crush of the week' shit that this show has become feels so juvenile and written like an early 2000s middle schooler it's crazy (it's a joke on dumb teen romances but what if I don't find it funny anymore? get a new bit please)
kinda just wished the reboot didn't happen, it feels like the writers are just doing random ass shit and forgetting the reasons why people liked the show to begin with lets not forget that a huge part of the resurgence was BECAUSE joanfk was so well loved and throwing that into the face of those fans is SUPER cool and does not make me feel so stupid for begging for a new season but whatever - completely threw away this chance of getting to continue this story that was ended too soon, which hey might just be a HBO thing but who really knows.
idk if this is gonna be the last time I'm doing fanart for clone high (after I finished this season I said I wasn't going to cuz literally nothing appealed to me to draw but quickly lied because I had some thoughts I needed to scream into the void lmao) but don't be surprised if that happens. sorry if none of this is coherent, very stream of consciousness and can't give more of a shit lmao
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maiko-san · 5 months
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TADC x Robotic Jester! Reader (Part 2)
Part 1
Since part 1 doing so well, I'll be making part 2
ft. Jax, Gangle
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You're not really sure how time really works in the digital circus, but who cares anyway? You just live your own life here without worrying about anything especially your human past.
You're at The Tent, practicing your skill on a tricycle while juggling lit torches in your hands and on a tightrope.
Ragatha had gone to her room to rest while Kinger is in his pillow fort, probably thinking about his insect collection.
You were too focus juggling the torches and not noticing a pair of scissors cutting the rope. The last thing you hear was a 'snap' and then you fall on the ground quite comically ( in cartoony way ) followed by a laughter. You let out a groan and shakes your head, you couldn't help but growl as turn your head to face the culprit.
It was the newcomer, Jax.
JAX
Number 1 pain the as#&! in the entire circus. You don't like him one bit ever since he first appeared.
He loves tormenting others and saying "I love to see something funny happen to people" follow that stupid grin of his.
"Hahahaha! Look how funny you look when you fall, you look so stupid!" he laughed. Your teeth clenched together. "It's not funny....rabbit" you said, standing up and dusting your clothes.
Sometimes you have the urge to throw him into the void but Caine somehow can hear your thoughts and tell you not to or he will confiscate all of your items and give you a timeout.
"It would be more funny if you were to set on fire— oh wait, you already are!" Jax grins, you stare at him in disbelief. You take a whiff and you swore you smell something burning, your tail kinda feels hot for some reason.
You turn your head to see that the tip of your tail is on fire.
Let's just say, Jax loves tormenting you the most. You remind him of those cartoon characters in tv shows!
Some of his pranks can be overboard and there are times it causes you to become malfunction all thanks to his pranks especially when he pours water into your joint circuits, causing your limbs to twist uncontrollably.
He doesn't care that he hurts someone (or even cares about their feelings). Knowing that Caine could fix/solves everything with a snap of his fingers.
Jax is straight up a bunny from hell.
None of the others like Jax including you.
You just don't know what his problem is but if he ever dares to hurt your friends with his silly pranks, you won't hesitate to throw him into the void.
You roll your eyes and sigh, with him around the area making you lose interest in training. So, you decide to leave and go back to your room or go to Ragatha's.
After a few days had passed, a new human had appeared in the circus.
Gangle
A ribbon with a mask? She's an odd one.
The very first moment she arrived, she was nervous and scared.
Caine was about to give her a name until Jax decided to name her himself.
"How about Gangle? They do move so 'graceful' " he said with a proud grin on his face, you look at him in disbelief. Seriously? That just mean! ( Gangle means moves ungracefully ). Before you could protest about the name, Caine just agreed with the suggestion he have given.
"Well! Gangle, welcome to your new home!" Caine smiles.
For the first few days, Gangle did really well actually. You notice that she has two masks with her, that is her comedy mask and tragedy mask.
Gangle is very light since she was made out of ribbons, if you run past her the poor girl gets knocked down by the wind and breaks her mask at the same time.
You did it once and you feel guilty for doing so.
So you remind yourself to always be careful whenever you're around her.
Gangle really appreciates how you are so careful and gentle around her, unlike Jax who pushes her on purpose whenever he feels like it.
Every time she breaks her comedy mask, you would offer to fix it for her but she softly declines.
"Wah!" again, Jax tripped her over when she walks past him. Her comedy mask falls off her tragic mask and smashes on the floor, "My...my comedy mask" Gangle sobs as she holds up a piece of her shattered mask.
She sighs to herself and picks up the mask piece by the piece, she stops when a hand hovers her.
She looks up to see Ragatha, Kinger and you. You couldn't help but let out a scoff, glaring at the rabbit "Seriously, Jax? Again." you glare at the purple rabbit. "Pfft. What? Not my fault that she doesn't see it coming~" he said, closing his eyes as he shrugs off what he has just done.
Gangle and Ragatha could see that you're on your last straw. Your limbs extend and wrap themselves around the rabbit, causing Jax to blink in surprise.
The next thing, Jax was thrown out of the tent. There was a Jax shaped hole left on the roof of the tent, indicating he was thrown high up.
Gangle didn't expect for you to do it, she was shocked. She appreciates that you stood up for her but at the same time, feeling that she's a burden.
You assure her that it wasn't a problem and tell her if Jax ever bothers her again with his silly pranks, don't be afraid to tell you :D.
A/N :
State in the wiki, Jax gets to choose his own name when he first arrive and he also chooses Gangle's name too.
If you're thinking that "Jax is too mean!' that's what he is, he's just a straight up a-hole and a sociopath(?).
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peachesofteal · 10 months
Note
What it Ghost went back into the bathroom when he hears Darling throwing up again and finds the tampered BC sitting on the counter?
👀
I think this would take place after this.
18+ Dark themes.
You’re back in the bathroom. You’ve been in and out all day now, the increase in visits visibly upsetting both Johnny and Simon, who have taken to pacing around the flat or standing outside the bathroom since you’ve decided not to let them in. Decided to not be anywhere near them, honestly… refusing to cuddle against Johnny on the couch, instead assuring them you were fine when you curled up in the oversized armchair with a book that you could hardly focus on. Johnny had been confused, eyes sad, and curious, when you had shrugged him off, but you swallowed the guilt away when you thought of that stupid, shiny piece of foil.
It’s a new development. You usually allow them to hold your hair back, or rub your back. Johnny likes to get your toothbrush ready afterwards, or dab your face with a cool cloth. Simon usually holds you, vomit breath at all, stroking a hand up and down your back while you gag.
But not today. Maybe, not ever again, considering your discovery this morning. The little piece of foil glints on top of the sink, shining underneath the vanity lights like a beacon.
Your stomach surges, and you sink to your knees in front of the toilet, bile dripping from your mouth into the water unceremoniously, and you groan.
“Darling?” Simon calls from outside, knuckles rapping against the wood. You cough.
“Yeah.”
“Can I come in?”
“No, I’m fine!” He’s silent, and you feel the floor creak beneath his feet, like he’s stepping closer. You wipe your face and flush the toilet. You can’t be in a small space with either of them right now.
“Are you-“ you snap the door handle, pulling it wide to reveal him, lurking on the other side of the door, concern on his way as he looks you over.
“Yeah.”
Something is wrong. You’ve been distant all day, cold, and shutdown. It unsettles Simon, gnaws at him, pushes him further and further into you, even when you draw away.
He catches you staring out the window from the old armchair, eyes focused on something he can’t see, something that’s bothering you, and can’t help but watch you from where he sits on the couch, his thigh pressed against Johnny’s, who trying to pay attention to the movie but failing miserably.
When you sigh, and toss the book away to get up, they both tense, bodies thrumming with nervous energy.
“I’ll go.” He assures Johnny, who looks at him hopelessly. He squeezes his hand, and then lumbers off to stand in front of the door, listening to your gagging and retching inside.
“Darling?” There’s a pause and he holds his breath. He presses himself against the door, and lowers his forehead to sit against the wood grain while he waits.
“Yeah?”
“Can I come in?” Say yes. Let me help you.
“No, I’m fine!” You call and he frowns. He shifts his weight. You sound… upset, on top of sick.
“Are you-“ he’s about to ask if you’re okay, if you need him, or Johnny, but the door swings wide, you standing on the other side. Your shoulders are slumped, and you look exhausted, and sad.
“Yeah.” You give him a half hearted smile, something about the way it falls flat pinching at his skin, settling underneath his bones and seeping into his blood.
A gut feeling tugs at him, and he looks past you, peering into the bathroom, eyes glancing over the toilet, the shower, the… sink.
His heart stops in his chest when he sees the tiny foil packet, the undeniable proof of his own treachery, his betrayal of you. Their betrayal of you.
He says your name, but you ignore him, instead choosing to stare at a spot on the wall, eyes bleak. There’s a fucking wall between you and him, a void that threatens to obliterate them all.
“Darling.”
“Did you do this?”
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leiflitter · 4 months
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hey i need ur felix and oliver and cattonquick headcanon s RIGHT NOW… ❤️
Well uh uh uh there's 200k+ words on ao3 which contains some of this but... under the cut because it's vaguely nsfw in places, keeping this as like... Oxford Ladz.
Felix is shit in bed unless you turn it into a challenge/game, and even then he's lazy as fuck so good luck. Most girls don't care because shagging Felix is like being chosen by a god. His routine is: snog for a bit, maybe shove his hand down your knickers, then it's the Catton Jackhammer asap until he rolls off you and falls asleep.
Going out with Felix is generally shit. He shags you maybe 4 times, then ghosts you and you find out he's moved on by seeing him fingering another girl outside of a club at 2am. He might buy you something, but the most expensive gift he'll get you is most likely some shots or a 3am kebab.
Oliver? Good in bed because he is An Observer and will see what works then Do That Until You Die. However, he only really sleeps with girls to help Felix out (he gets the friend, Felix gets the hot girl). He mostly thinks of Felix when he does this, but tells himself it's in a lie back and think of england way. He also tends to stick to hands/mouth stuff, because otherwise it's "why aren't you hard" and he panics.
Oliver is perpetually single, despite Felix's best efforts. Felix does not understand why girls have such bad taste. He insists Ollie is an absolute legend and anyone would be lucky to have him. He also gets oddly grumpy if any girls DO organically hit on Ollie, though.
Felix's short-lived "girlfriends" all think it's a little weird that Felix touches Oliver more than he touches them. Like he won't hold hands in public, but he's got his arm around Oliver all the time? Weird. If you're dancing with Felix and go to get a drink, most of the time he'll be dancing with Oliver once you're back and it is hard to get his attention back.
Felix gives me vague adhd vibes, maybe dyslexia, but he was born in the 80s and he's rich af, so it's never really mattered because he never has to try.
Big Oliver Autism vibes, the man is MASKING but again... circumstances mean he's just brute forcing things.
Felix has been made to play Team Sports but doesn't like them unless it's for silly reasons.
Oliver likes exercising, but mostly goes to the gym to be in a weird little physical activity enduced void.
Felix has honestly been bi as fuck forever, but never really considered why he was down to let lads in his dorm snog him back in boarding school because it was just kinda the done thing. Haha, just hormones, amiright?
Both of them feel vaguely destined to become their fathers and do not want to do that.
Felix had very weird feelings for Damon Albarn as a teen but again. Never thought about it too hard, he's just a pretty man, bloody hormones again!
Oliver cannot drive. He refuses to drive. He has his provisional licence for ID and that's IT.
Felix is often trying to annoy Oliver because any attention is good attention. Oliver just wants to revise, Felix, please stop drawing dicks on his notebook.
Felix absolutely is going full hair-twirly, eyelid-fluttery, dreamboy bimbo at Oliver constantly. Oliver does not pick up on this, but Farleigh does and is honestly a little disgusted.
Speaking of- Farleigh is primarily concerned that he pegged Oliver for an absolute capital-L Loser on day ONE and now his stupid cousin is basically throwing himself at Oliver. Farleigh has theories, including maybe hypnosis or Felix having some sort of brain injury from Team Sports.
Oliver was absolutely bullied in school, but not extremely, because he learned to make himself invisible. Head down, keep going, don't react.
Oliver didn't really GET music until Felix showed him stuff that wasn't just radio pop music. Unfortunately, this was after Oliver spent way too long trying to understand why Steps were so popular.
Oliver's initial haircut is based off of Zac Efron's in High School Musical. He has never seen HSM, but something about Zac Efron made him feel weird, and it just sort of... happened. He has a type, and it's Jawline and Eyebrows.
Felix's first thought upon getting close enough for Oliver to do the Big Blue Eyes Look Up At Him was "oh no," followed by just question marks and bike panic. And also, bi panic.
Farleigh complained to Felix a lot about Oliver but never used his name. It was just "the fucking nerd in my tutorial group".
Oliver honestly didn't connect Farleigh and Felix as cousins, because he was mostly too busy trying not to be painfully in love with Felix to join the dots from a throwaway comment in his first tutorial.
The money in Oliver's wallet at the pub was meant to last for the next two weeks. Boy gotta get lunch and buy bodywash and stuff, not shots for rich kids.
Felix immediately begins relying on Oliver to know his schedule. Oliver just accepts this and sends Felix reminder texts for his tutorials.
Felix keeps leaving hoodies in Oliver's dorm room. This is weird because they are rarely in there for longer than a minute or two. Oliver wears these hoodies because Felix keeps insisting that they'd suit him. Farleigh, yes, sees this and is fucking CONCERNED.
Felix assumes he'll have to get married and have kids as it is his duty to continue the Catton Line. He keeps making weird jokes about his and Oliver's kids getting married.
Oliver says he fancies Kiera Knightley. This is incorrect. Kiera Knightley is just the closest woman he could find to Felix.
Oliver lies to his parents mostly to avoid any visits or needing to go home because going back there is awful and stifling and guilt-inducing.
A few people in their group refer to Oliver as Felix's Pet, but only when neither of them are there. Farleigh started it.
Felix's initial emotional reaction to Ollie's Field Reveal was immense pride and the urge to punch Farleigh in the arm very hard if he didn't stop staring, the pervert. Felix was not staring, he was merely pointing his eyes in that direction, thanks.
Felix always has something in his mouth and it makes Oliver want to die. Most of Oliver's pens and pencils have Felix toothmarks on.
Felix does not understand how much things cost. Oliver does. Oliver wishes Felix would stop picking things up that "made me think of you, Ollie!" Because. Felix. That t-shirt was £50. What is WRONG WITH YOU.
Felix has occasionally considered seeing if Ollie'd be up for a devil's threeway if he found someone willing. He isn't brave enough to ask, because he knows Oliver would say no, but he thinks about the idea a lot. You know. Just a regular wild Uni party thing, right?
If Oliver hadn't gone to Felix, Felix would have turned up sloppy, SLOPPY drunk outside of Oliver's room one night and had a big baby tantrum and probably shoved his tongue down Oliver's throat. It would be the worst handjob of Oliver's life, but also the best.
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amyispxnk · 5 months
Text
And if you were my little girl
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Summary - your dad sucks and you finally turn to Joel for help (summaries are my specialty can you tell)
A/N: SO my dad’s being a little bitchy and making me genuinely want to unalive a little bit, I remembered this song existed, Joel is the father we all wish we had, and here we are. Also I’ve (fortunately) never had to deal with an alcoholic so I’m sorry if it’s not written very well?
Pairing: platonic/father figure!Joel Miller x f!reader (can probably be read as gn tho?)
Word count: 2.3k
Warnings: paternal issues (i refuse to say daddy sorry), alcohol mention, language, angst, comfort, a lot of tears, father Joel, implications of using certain methods to get things you want, verbal/physical abuse, blood
DO NOT COPY THIS FIC IN ANY WAY PLS AND TY.
Part 2 here
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You reckoned you had stopped really taking the words in that he tried to threaten you with a long time ago, letting the curses and attempts to break you apart in through one ear and straight out the other. That way you wouldn’t be able to linger on them for too long; it was better that way.
“Where’s the fuckin’ drinks?” Your dad yelled, stumbling around the kitchen and throwing open the shelves in his search, met with nothing but dust. You skated around him as best you could but after he had almost torn apart the wood trying to find the alcohol, he turned to you.
Red in the face, sweating furiously with a look that could definitely kill you. Hands balled at his sides as he took a step towards you.
“D’you hide it again?” He said menacingly, trying to instil as much fear as he could into you, desperate for the liquid relief.
This time, you hadn’t hidden it. You knew better than to try and help him anymore, he couldn’t be fixed and you had to just accept it. When you were younger, when you were more stupid, more hopeful, you had tried hiding it or disposing of it in secret to try and discourage his alcoholism - only to be met with a split lip and hundreds of salty tears spilling from your eyes, only to be ignored and discarded and yelled at and told you were useless before being sent out to go get more. Sometimes without money, him saying that you’d just have to find another way to get it.
You were so disgusted with the prospect of what he was surely insinuating, but thinking about what he might do if you came back empty-handed was somehow scarier to you at the time.
“Fucking answer me!” He snarled, pulling you up by your collar and glaring at you.
“I didn’t hide it- there’s none left, and there’s no way to get any right now. If you just calm-” You began, trying to keep your voice steady and your face void of too much emotion. You weren’t going to let him do anything. He didn’t scare you anymore.
“Well you best fuckin’ find some, you bitch!” He shoved you towards the door, knocking you onto the hard wooden floor in the process and watching you cry out in pain without so much as batting an eye, too fucking stubborn to even feel any remorse since he was always fucking right about everything like he was now.
“Don’t think about coming back here unless you find me it.” And with that, he slammed the door in your face, leaving you outside the apartment door in the hallway.
You let out a shaky exhale, hands raising and covering your face as you furiously wiped away any tears that threatened to spill. Your hands balled up in your face as you hit your head over and over. You had to think of something. No matter how much of a poker face you put on in front of him, you were still terrified deep down, that feeling would never go away no matter how long you’d been putting up with it for.
You ran through all of your usual options, but you genuinely couldn’t think of one that would work today. It was nearly impossible to get your hands on alcohol in the apocalypse with ration cards, without them you had to resort to other means and you couldn’t bring yourself to do that right now.
Just when you thought that all hope was lost, the familiar and far-too-comforting Southern drawl of Joel Miller sounded from across the hallway.
“Y’alright sweetheart?” He asked cautiously. He had heard some banging coming from your apartment and had opened the door to find you standing there, tugging at your hair in frustration and looking like you were about to explode.
You turned to face him, opening your mouth to speak but not really knowing what to say.
How many times had this happened? How many times had your own father terrorised you for any minor inconvenience and blamed you for everything, made you feel stupid and worthless of any attention or love? And how many times had Joel still given you that attention, that love, or whatever it was. Maybe it was love, maybe he was just being nice to you, but you told yourself that’s what love was since you knew no better. Growing up in this world was cruel enough, but without anyone who truly loved you and liked to make sure you knew that every day, nobody to protect you from the monsters - infected and human - that inhibited it, that felt like the worst fate you could suffer.
So were you alright? No. No, of course you weren’t. But you’d say you were just like you had every time, because you didn’t want to bother people with your ‘issues’. As well as numbing yourself from feeling any intense fear or sadness as a result of your father’s endless torment, you also found it incredibly difficult to take pity on yourself. You always felt like your issues were never that real, that your father had a hard life and maybe you should just let him take it out on you.
“I’m..” you began, mustering up a pathetic excuse for a smile as you glanced from his face to the ground in front of your feet, “I’m fine, thank you.”
You knew the exact expression which would be on his face without even needing to look up, having seen it too many times. That one where he looks worried, his brows furrowed as he tries to pick you apart and figure out what the hell was actually going on, slightly angry too as this kept on happening and you still refused to tell him anything. Did you not trust him? Did he do something wrong? He knew he was threatening to people, that’s what he was known for in the QZ. But he had never done anything to you, he’d always tried helping you but you never talked or anything at all with him.
“Do you um- do you have any beer? Any alcohol would be fine really, I just need it right now. I can pay you but I don’t have any ration cards so it would have to be later on unless you could think of anything…” You trailed off at the end, not wanting to say it and give him the option in case he hadn’t thought of it yet, praying he wouldn’t want that.
“Yeah, I got some.” He murmured, before blinking a few times and opening the door to his apartment again, cogs turning in his brain as he still tried to figure out what happened.
“Come in, don’t need ya standin’ there like a lemon.” He said when you stayed fixed to the ground beneath you instead of following him inside like he had very clearly offered when he left the door open after walking in himself.
“Right.” You nodded as you entered his apartment, closing the door gently behind you and watching him as he went over to his cabinets and reached for some whiskey.
You took in his living space. It was clean, organised. The small entryway led straight into the living room which was linked to the kitchen space, a dusty couch in the centre of the room and a coffee table in front of it. A few books were on the table, along with some slightly cracked glasses. You never took Joel to be much of a reader, clearly you were wrong.
There were 2 more doors which were closed and you could only assume that they were the bathroom and his bedroom.
“Hope this ‘s okay.” He said as he appeared in front of you, bottle of whiskey in hand.
“You’re not drinkin’ this all by yourself, are ya?” A smirk appeared on his face as he attempted the light teasing with you, maybe that would cheer you up a bit.
Your expression bore a smile which faltered and faded quickly. If only he knew.
“No, no. It’s for my dad. He ran out so.. Yeah. How do you want me to pay?” You said quietly. Whatever it took, you supposed.
He noticed the dejected look on your face as you looked up at him. So tired. That’s what came to mind whenever he looked at you. Barely an adult and already looking like you were at death’s door whenever he saw you. Exhaustion clouded all of your features and your mind when you trudged up the stairs, down the corridor and up to your apartment door, entering as your shoulders somehow slumped even more.
“Y’ don’t needa pay, sweetheart.” He told you, and you blinked a few times in confusion.
“Really?” There was no way. Alcohol was so hard to come by, and here he was giving you a bottle for free?
“Yeah.” He nodded, making sure you had a good hold on the bottle before letting go of it and pursing his lips as he thought deeply yet again.
“‘F you ever need to talk or anythin’, I’m always here for ya, okay?” He said before you could leave, making you stop with your back towards him as you stood at the door.
“Thank you, Joel.” You whispered before leaving and returning to your own apartment.
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After that, you found yourself on Joel’s doorstep a few more times - you didn’t go every time you needed something, not wanting him to think you were taking advantage of his kindness, so sometimes you were just genuinely hanging out with him.
He had some little books and crosswords, stories to tell you, and one time he’d even come across a VHS tape with a movie from the dawn of time on it which the two of you had watched one evening.
You stayed too late and definitely paid the price for it, but it was worth it, you told yourself as you cleaned the blood from your arms and hissed at the sting of a newly-formed bruise.
Then, one evening, it finally fell apart. He threw you out of the house, quite literally, and you were already knocking on Joel’s door before you could realise what you were doing.
He opened the door and you slammed yourself into him, causing him to let out a little cough as he stumbled back, arms tentatively wrapping around you.
“Woah, woah, y’alright sweetheart?” He asked, taken aback by your sudden action.
“Joel, I- I'm sorry.” You choked out, tightening your hold on him and fisting his shirt.
He ushered you gently into his apartment, closing the door behind you and sitting you down on the couch.
“What's goin’ on? What happened?” He said, watching as you trembled, lip quivering as you tried to formulate a sentence without bursting into tears.
You ultimately failed at that. Only managing the words my dad before a pained sob wracked through your entire body and you were crying into your palms.
Joel rushed to your side, pulling you into him and rubbing his hands up and down your back soothingly.
“‘s okay. You can talk to me, tell me what's goin’ on honey.” He told you, pulling back slowly from you to try and make you look at him, frown deepening on his face when he saw how upset you were.
“He- he- kicked me out, ‘cause I didn't- I lost the cards and- he got too angry at me so then- I was mad at him back and he hurt me so I said I didn't want to stay and he-” You stuttered, trying to actually remember what had happened in the first place then explain it as best you could.
His jaw clenched with anger. How could someone do that to their own child? Your father had clearly put you through so much emotionally and physically, and you had done nothing wrong. You were a good kid, and you deserved better than that. He could be better for you.
Your shaky breathing filled the room as he came back to his senses, willing his fury to stop clouding his head so he could focus on what was more important right now - you. He'd deal with him later.
His thumb reached up and wiped a stray tear from your face before he pulled you close again, hugging you tight.
“You stay here, okay? ‘m so sorry sweetheart. I won't let anythin’ bad happen to ya. Y’just gotta let me help you.” He said as you nodded into his shirt, a weak mm-hm muffled by the fabric before he slowly rose from the couch and walked into his kitchen.
He came back with a glass of water, offering it to you. “Drink this.” Your cautious fingers closed around it and brought it to your lips.
“‘s gonna be okay. You can stay here, if you want?” You had come to him, obviously hoping he'd ask you that, but hearing him actually say it gave you relief like nothing else could.
“Y-yes, please.” You said, putting the glass back down on the coffee table as he nodded, helping you up and taking you to his room.
“I'll stay out there on the couch for a bit, okay? ‘til we can sort somethin’ a little more proper out for ya.” He told you, going to find you some clothes that weren't almost completely torn up.
When he returned, he saw you blankly staring at the floor, hands fingering the same strand of hair mindlessly and not even realising him walking up to you.
He sighed, handing you the clothes and placing a comforting hand on your shoulder.
“It'll be okay sweetheart. Nothin’ bads gonna happen anymore, he can't hurt you here.” He assured you, hugging you one more time before he left, closing the bedroom door behind him.
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Thank you sm for reading, I hope you enjoyed! Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated and requests are open 💞
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Text
If We Never Met- Part 1
hiya!! this is my first @invisobang piece ever!! it's around 25k words in total, but i plan to post in parts, this part being around 1.2k. i'm so glad i got to work with @this-is-z-art-blog and @thickerthanectoplasm to get the wonderful art that's coming with it (plus quite a bit of beta reading)!
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Summary: In the episode "Memory Blank", Danny loses his memory and powers to Desiree, the wishing ghost. What if, instead of forcing Danny to go through the portal again, Sam became the new half-ghost protector of Amity Park? She thinks she's the only one who remembers how it used to be, but as she adjusts to her new reality and discovers her new powers, Sam soon finds she's not alone.
“Do I know you?”
“Oh, very cute. I said I wish we’d never met and now you’re pretending we didn’t meet. You’re hilarious.” Sam rolled her eyes, hand on her hip as she waited for Danny to cut the crap.
“No, seriously, do I know you?” He responded in earnest confusion.
Before Sam could respond, Tucker spritzed something minty into his mouth and practically pushed the other boy away. “And more importantly, would you like to know me?”
He held out his hand for Sam to shake, “Hi, I’m Tucker. Tucker Foley. That’s T.F. as in ‘too fine’.”
“Oh, gross!” Sam’s entire body shuddered as she slapped his hand away, “Are you hitting on me?”
As this was happening, one of Casper High’s various nerds was being cruelly shoved into a locker down the hall. Even if it was a regular occurance, this particular nerd had had enough. “I wish someone would give you a taste of your own medicine!” He screamed.
And as if she could hear the calls of Murphy's law, Desiree materialized from the void to make everything worse, announcing– “So you have wished it, and so it shall be!”
Desiree smiled as she zapped the kid, ignorant enough to make a wish around her, turning him into a ghoulish, green monster. He leapt out of the locker excitedly and (deservedly) beat the snot out of Dash and Kwan. 
She smiled, proud to display her power and ready to move on to the next victim. But before Desiree took her leave, something peculiar caught her eye. She began moving cautiously towards the moody girl she knew as the ghost boy’s friend, but quickly changed trajectory and headed in Danny’s direction instead.  
Once she was close enough to tower over Danny, she smirked as she said, ”Boo.”
“G-g-GHOST!!” he screamed, throwing his scrawny arms over his head. 
Desiree was pleased with herself, and before any of the trio could stand up to her, she flew away, cackling and mumbling to herself. 
Sam was less than impressed at Danny’s shenanigans today. “That’s Desiree, the wishing ghost!” Sam grabbed Danny by the shoulders, and avoided the temptation to shake him a little. “Danny, you’ve gotta do something. Why aren’t you going ghost?”
Unfortunately there was zero recognition from her friend. Danny shrugged her off and backed away, “Look, kid. I don’t know who you are or what you’re talking about. All I know is I am out of here!”
---
All Sam could think as she watched Danny run off like a coward was how someone like that could have ever ended up a “fearless superhero”.
Sam was at a complete loss for words. Only two things in her mind were possible; either the boys were playing an asinine prank on her, or they really didn’t remember who she was.
She hoped it was the former, but the fact Tucker flirted with her (weird) pointed, hopefully, to the latter. He’d always flirted with every girl that moved– but was adamant he’d never flirt with Sam. And if he’s gone back on his word, it better be because he doesn’t remember her. No matter how stupid it sounds. Otherwise she’d have to strangle him. Probably.
But that train of thought would have to stay in the back of her mind– she had classes to prepare for, and a locker to visit. Her day, apart from this, should be completely normal.
Or not.
As soon as Sam opened her locker, she was smacked in the face with undeniable evidence that her friends (if she could even call them that anymore) truly didn’t remember her. Her favorite polaroid, one of the three of them on the first day of school, one she had only taken a few months ago didn’t have a single trace of her in it. Only Danny and Tucker standing with an awkward blank space between the two of them, as though she was erased.
This… this isn’t right– There’s gotta be some way to prove I was in the picture– I’m the one who took it!
Sam shook her head and pocketed the photo for later. The halls were emptying and she couldn’t risk being late, or worse– detention.
As she hastily grabbed all the books she needed for the first few periods, Sam’s hand brushed against the spine of something that was definitely not a textbook. Is this where this damn thing had been misplaced for months? She yanked out her old photo album. 
Well, it’s not that old, but old enough she gave up on finding it again. Hell, she was close to making a new one the last few weeks, seeing as she hadn’t seen it in months. It isn’t anything special, really. It started out with a few of her birthdays from before middle school Danny or Tucker were occasionally in the background, but once she gets to the pages from middle school onwards, the two become more prominent. The most recent pages were fresh after Danny’s accident and stopped around the time she misplaced the damn thing.
How convenient– this might actually work if she shows it to the bo–
Suddenly, the bell rings shrilly, making her want to cover her ears.
‘Dang– are you kidding me?? My parents will kill me if they find out I’m late again.’
Sam simply sighs, rustling around in her bag and producing a stack of hall passes, quickly forging a signature without a thought. 
What? She’s a responsible student. Usually.
---
The fake pass barely works, but Sam manages to slide home to her first period seat unaccosted. Tetslaff has a nigh unreadable signature, even to hawk-eyed Lancer.. She slumps down in her usual spot in the room. It takes her a moment but she notices Tucker and Danny are nowhere to be found.
Didn’t we always have first hour together? 
The three are inseparable, both at home and in the classroom– specifically by parental ‘suggestion’. 
When the three finally made it to freshman year, Sam offhandedly mentioned her worry of being alone in her classes, very loudly, within her mother’s range of hearing. Not even a week later, her parents made a call to the school to ensure the trio would have all their classes together. all day. Even when they drove each other up the wall.
She smiles fondly as she prepares for Lancer’s blabbing for the hour. She looks at her friend’s empty seats and feels the emptiness in her heart when she realizes there would be no passing notes or sharing whispers.
‘Now is not the time. I need to help Danny get his powers back. Or maybe even convince him to do it on his own. I wonder if the portal has even been opened yet…’
As Lancer drolls on about the book of the week, she finds her mind wandering to earlier that day. Specifically to what Danny said. More specifically, the thing about her being the reason he had ghost powers in the first place. 
‘Wait, if I gave him his ghost powers in the first place– that means… all the stress and responsibility,’
Sam frowns at the realization before her train of thought continues. ‘If I did that to him, to my best friend, doesn’t that mean I can do the same for… or to someone else?’
With that heavy train of thought, she starts to make a plan.
---
Stay tuned for part 2!
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