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cieloclercs · 7 months

Note

grace , send me a trope + a character and i’ll write a short drabble from it

hii, can i please request best friends to lovers with ollie?

congrats on 1k btwww 🫶🫶

call me cupid — ollie bearman

pairing. ollie bearman x best friend!reader

word count. 2.7k (i swear i tried to make it short lmao)

warnings. kind of a weird fusion of fluff and angst ??? unrequited love vibes (that’s not actually unrequited but u get what i mean), pining ollie, pining reader, arthur lowkey is the mastermind, and is also sick of said pining, abrupt ending i’m sorry 😭

author’s note. hello anon! thank you so much for your request ☺️ i hope this is ok ! i know it cuts off quite abruptly, but i’d be open to writing a part 2 with the confession if you want one <3

read below the cut

He’s staring again.

It’s becoming a problem, but can anyone really blame him? You look nothing short of angelic under the strobe lights, your shimmering dress catching his eye every time you move. You’re dancing with a girl he doesn’t recognise, that beautiful smile he adores stretched across your crimson-painted lips. It makes him wonder what she’s saying to you to make you seem so content.

Best friends shouldn’t look at each other the way he’s looking at you now. Ollie knows that. Yet on days like today, he really can’t help it. This is your party, celebrating your third Formula 2 victory in a row. He’d watched from way back in P5 as you stormed through the field, fighting off every challenge your opponents tried to throw your way. There’s a reason the fans call you the Queen of Formula 2, after all. You’re practically untouchable. All it does is heighten his awareness of his own pounding heart whenever you’re around; turn his insides to velvet when you so much as smile his way. Yes, it’s becoming a problem — and Ollie isn’t sure there’s anything he can do to stop it.

“You know, I’ve just thought of something you should try.” A voice speaks up to his left, breaking him out of whatever trance you’ve unwittingly put him under. He turns. Arthur Leclerc stands like the devil on his shoulder, arms folded, expression unimpressed. When Ollie says nothing, he goes on, “It’s called talking to her. Works wonders, really, I’d highly recommend. It’s how I met Carla.”

The younger of the two rolls his eyes. Arthur is the only other living soul on earth who knows about his infatuation with you — officially, at least. In reality, almost everyone in the Ferrari Academy has long since figured it out. Everyone except you, ironically. But Ollie supposes it makes sense; why would someone like you ever even consider him as something more than just a friend?

“Can we not do this tonight?” Ollie sighs, exasperated, “I’m just trying to forget about…all of that for a moment.”

This time it’s Arthur who rolls his eyes. Ever since he first caught on to his friend’s crush on you a little over eight months ago, he’s been trying every method under the sun to try and make him see that maybe, just maybe, he shouldn’t be so pessimistic about his chances. But the answer is always the same. Ollie remains convinced, like some poor, naïve, completely oblivious child, that you’d never so much as give him a second glance if he told you how he felt. It’s complete bullshit, of course. Arthur has seen the way your eyes search immediately for his after a race, be it a good result or even a bad one. He’s watched you brush off close friends (including him, many a time) even family members, to get to Ollie. But of course, Ollie himself doesn’t notice. No fool in love ever does.

“You’re not going to forget though, are you?” Arthur muses, glancing at his friend out of the corner of his eye, “I know you, and I know you can’t stay away from her for that long. You’ll cave eventually.” he smirks. At the sight of Ollie’s pink cheeks, he knows he’s caught him out.

“Why don’t you go annoy someone else for a change?” the Brit grumbles. There’s the ghost of a smile tugging at his lips. Arthur could pick it out even in the pitch dark.

“Don’t pretend you don’t love me.” he teases.

Within moments he’s cowered behind Carla on the other side of the room, chased away by Ollie’s (half joking) threats to crash him out of the next race on purpose if he doesn’t shut his mouth. But Arthur’s words stick with him throughout the entire night. Somehow, they always do.

In truth, Ollie's been grappling with the idea of telling you for quite a while; to put him out of his own misery more than anything else. He's sick and tired of the 'best friends' label. It seems so trivial, so reductive to say that it hurts him, when in fact, every time you refer to him as such, he’s sure you must be ripping his heart out of his chest. But then he can’t help but feel melodramatic — at least he has you, even if only as a friend. Even if you don’t love him in the way he loves you, you’re still there. Close, though perhaps not quite close enough. Ollie has decided not to take that for granted. He knows how easily it can be snatched away from him.

In the end (just as he always seems to be) Arthur is right — it’s not even an hour before he finds himself gravitating towards you; unwittingly being pulled into your orbit from which he fears, if he’s not careful, he’ll never be able to escape. You’re hovering on the edge of a group of engineers now, sipping on a glass of sparkling water out of a straw. How you can appear drop dead gorgeous yet so damn adorable at the same time, he has no idea. Ollie feels he’ll be spending the rest of his life trying to figure you and your many layers out.

“Hi, Ol.” you greet him with a smile like the sun when he finally plucks up the courage to approach. He mutters something in reply, though as soon as the words have left his mouth he’s already forgotten them — he could have said something completely unintelligible for all he knows. That’s the effect you have on him.

“Having fun?” you prompt again, your soft smile spreading into a full-blown grin. Ollie glances briefly around the room. It’s absolutely packed full of Ferrari Academy members, both drivers and personnel. Normally, this kind of event would be his worst nightmare. Even if he’s known these people for years, the idea of having to socialise and look like he’s having fun makes him feel sick. But then he remembers all this is for you. It’s to celebrate your achievements in a male dominated field, which no woman has ever managed to do before. When he reminds himself of that, all his anxiety suddenly seems to melt away.

“Of course.” Ollie grins back. His heart soars to see you light up at his words, to see you giggle behind the rim of your glass and look at him as if he’s the only person in the world. At times like this he can truly believe that maybe Arthur is right — maybe, if he confesses, his world won’t come crashing down. Maybe you’ll light it up for the better.

“What happened to you at turn one? Nic told me you dropped out of the points." you go on, eyebrows furrowing with the remnants of confusion. Ollie had begun the feature race in P2 behind you, yet you'd find that the competition you'd so anticipated disappeared not even before the first lap had ended. The Brit sighs, shaking his head.

"I collided with Jack trying to defend." he tells you with a wince, "Damaged my sidepods."

Your expression twists into one of sympathy. There's almost no coming back from that, even for a driver as talented as Ollie. Still, you think, to climb back up to P5 after sustaining damage like that is no mean feat. You don't miss the way he flushes bashfully when you tell him as such.

"It was my own fault." he mumbles, trying desperately to cool the flames in his cheeks as you watch him, eyebrows raised. He always feels like he's been put under a microscope when you look at him like this. There's no escaping the calculation in your stare, the curious scrutiny. "I took too much of a risk."

You shake your head. There's the tiniest of knowing smiles on your lips. Ollie is always so hard on himself. It's something you both admire him for, and find yourself exasperated with; he never seems to be able to see how brilliant he really is -- or at least, how brilliant he is in your eyes.

"Well, whoever was at fault, it's a real shame." you dismiss with a wave of your hand, "I miss sharing the podium with you."

Ollie is sure he must be melting. He can't figure out if it's from your words alone, or from the tiny pout that's fallen on your lips, or even the soft glint in your eyes as you gaze up at him. Suddenly the proximity between the two of you seems to have all but diminished. He chuckles nervously.

"Next race will be ours." the Brit murmurs. Little by little you inch closer to him, your hand resting on the ledge you're leaning on, just ghosting over where his own lays flat. He breathes in sharply.

"Promise?" you whisper. The point of your heel bumps against his foot. Ollie glances down at it in a panic, before his head snaps up to meet your piercing gaze. He fears that if he rocks forwards only the slightest bit on the balls of his feet, he'll be close enough for his nose to bump yours. He's never felt so consumed, so intoxicated by another person in all his life. He can smell the honey scent of your hair, feel your warm breath tickling his cheek. His gaze flickers down for the briefest of moments to your lips - soft and pink, parted as if there's something else you want to say, but the words have gotten trapped in your throat.

"I promise." Ollie croaks.

Just one more step, you think. One more step, and he'll kiss you. He's so close, closer than he's ever been before, and suddenly you can see everything falling into place: all the nights spent crying on Arthur's shoulder, wondering whether Ollie is truly just scared as your friend says he is, or whether he simply doesn't feel the same. It will all fade into a distant, long-abandoned memory. Finally, you'll be able to call him something more than just your best friend.

But then he steps away.

You flinch, taken aback at his sudden movement. Ollie stares at you, wide-eyed, breathing heavily as if he's just run a marathon. He can't believe what's just happened — can't believe he was about to kiss you. How could he be so stupid?

"I —" he stammers. The look on your face is hard to decipher: shocked, confused, hurt. If Ollie looked a bit closer, he'd be able to see the last of those emotions, or the way your shock is mixed with a horrible sinking feeling of disappointment. But, of course, he doesn't see it that way. He's stuck on the same, poisonous idea that's been plaguing his mind ever since he first figured out his feelings — you don't feel the same way.

"I'm sorry." Ollie gasps. Then, without another word, he turns on his heel and runs, leaving you stood alone, arms half outstretched as if to try and stop him. You're too late, of course. Within moments he's out of sight. Gone, just like your hope.

"Well that was a train wreck." a familiar voice speaks up from somewhere on your left. You spin around, groaning as you spot Arthur, arms folded, eyebrows furrowed in what you can only imagine is frustration.

"You don't say." you drawl bitterly, glaring down into your empty glass. Wordlessly, your friend passes you his own half-full one. You lean down to sniff at its contents, and pull away, nose scrunched in distaste — definitely not water. But you think, at this point, you're owed some kind of distraction.

"Why does he keep running away from me?" you grumble. It's been months of this cat and mouse game now. Tonight is the closest you've ever got; the first time you've seen with your own eyes that Ollie does reciprocate your feelings. Yet it feels like for that step forward, all you've gone and done is taken another two back.

"Because he's an idiot." Arthur answers plainly. The Monégasque watches as you take a gulp of his drink, pulling a face at the burn in your throat, and wordlessly reaches forwards to take the glass back from your hands. He's grateful that you don't complain.

"Well I wish he'd stop." you mutter. As much as you're willing to wait for Ollie for as long as he needs, it's painful, having to go on loving him from a distance like this. Every time you lock eyes, the longing grows more intense. You're not sure how much longer you can take it.

"You know, you're just as bad as he is." Arthur speaks up. Once again, your head snaps towards him, eyes narrowing.

"What?"

"You heard me." the Monégasque says with a sigh, "Look, I want to help you, I really do, but you could make all of this so much easier for yourself if you just tell him how you feel."

And there it is. You can’t help but let out a bitter chuckle. It sounds so simple coming from Arthur’s mouth — so easy. God knows you’ve tried, time and time again, to be honest with Ollie about your feelings, to rip off the plaster in the hopes the pain of it won’t be too great; that he might just tell you he’s been trying to say the same thing all this time. But whenever you feel as if you might be ready, the words catch in your throat. You just can’t stomach them. It’s a kind of vulnerability you’ve never shown to anyone before, let alone someone who already means so much to you. At the end of the day, you’re still young. No matter how much you love Ollie now, the chances of him being the one are low.

At least, that’s what you’ve been trying to convince yourself. But a part of you knows already — there’s no one else on earth you’ll ever feel this way about. Young or not, it’s always going to be Ollie.

“I don’t know if I can take that risk, Arth.” you say quietly, “If Ollie and I — if we’re not meant to be together…isn’t it better just to have him, even as a friend, than risk losing him entirely?”

You’re honestly not sure which is the most painful: having to pretend that you don’t love him, or the idea of one day not having him at all. Yet, you still know which one you’d choose — even if it hurts like ripping your own heart out of your chest.

“Huh.” Arthur says, eyebrows furrowing again. There’s something different in his expression this time, though. It’s less frustration, more a spark. As if he’s realised something you and Ollie may not have just yet.

“What?” you ask. Suddenly, Arthur begins to smile. You watch him disbelievingly, none the wiser as to what on earth he has to be so happy about at the present moment. Then he’s laughing, shaking his head as if in mirthful despair.

“You really are soulmates.” the Monégasque snickers, watching almost gleefully as you grow even more confused.

“What?” you ask again. Part of you begins to wonder if Arthur has lost his mind — you wouldn’t blame him after the game he’s been playing: acting as some sort of secret go-between in the middle and your and Ollie’s back and forth self-doubts. But Arthur hasn’t lost the will to live with it all just yet. In fact, he thinks he’s finally figured out how to make the both of you see sense.

“He said the exact same thing to me.”

And with that, Arthur turns on his heel, leaving you stood alone, your mind racing. All this time you’ve been trying to play the long game; trying to anticipate what Ollie is thinking, when in reality, your thoughts are practically shared. You’re both afraid. More than you ever have been in your life. But for the first time you begin to think, perhaps fear doesn’t have to be the dividing factor.

“Why do you look so pleased with yourself?” Carla Brocker asks her boyfriend as he retakes his familiar position at her side, still grinning like a child who’s just been told Christmas is coming early. Arthur says nothing, merely tilting his head in the direction of where you stand motionless. It only takes a few moments for Carla to catch on. She turns to face her boyfriend again, mouth hanging open.

“You think you’ve got through to her?” she whispers urgently.

Once again, Arthur Leclerc grins proudly.

“Just call me Cupid.”

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mothdruid · 7 months

Text

I Wish You Would

pairing. Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x afab!reader

word count. 3.3k

warnings. ANGST!!

author's note. this is for @laracrofted 1989 writing challenge. my song was I Wish You Would. and a special thanks goes out to @withahappyrefrain, @bobfloydsbabe, and @rae-gar-targaryen for letting me use your OC's as the bride and wedding dates for the daggers in this fic. well, here is some angsty angst for you all. also, the venue i'm writing about is a real place called The Farmhouse Siloam, and this is the dress I wrote the reader in.

The invitation had arrived earlier that year. It didn’t shock you that Jake was actually getting married, but having something tangible telling you was a little odd. Danica and Jake started off on an interesting foot. The way Jake had talked about her in secret wouldn’t have made it obvious, but once you all met Danica everything about the relationship made sense. She was the exact kind of woman that drove Jake crazy, in a good way. That’s one thing you and Bradley had always agreed on. That Hangman would hang the stars for his Venus, something you found out Bradley would have trouble doing for you.

The relationship hadn’t been terrible, honestly, it was the best relationship you had ever had. One that you thought about regularly, even though you continually told everyone you were over it. So, when Jake and Danica gave you the heads up that they were also inviting Bradley, you gave them questioning looks. Why would that even matter? It was their wedding anyways, they could invite whoever they wanted. It’s not like that final not was still something you thought about daily. But how would they had known that? They couldn’t have when you always told them the opposite.

Neither of you were bad people, but that night would have told anyone the opposite. Both of your words were laced with venom, neither one of you knowing how to convey your thoughts properly. It wasn’t like either of you, but things had gotten out of hand quick. One thing lead to another, escalating past the point of control.

An uneven breath passed your lips while you looked in the mirror. The dress you had picked was something simple. A two strap summery dress with a bustier built in. It was covered in a muted pastel floral print. Cielo and Abby had helped you pick it out. You bought it with the thought of being able to wear it again, and not to draw the attention of anyone specific.

Even though you and Bradley ended on poor terms, you still yearned for him. Almost two years later and you still wished for something. But you weren’t just hoping and wishing for him to reach out to you, you were also wishing you could have changed things. Wished you would have never hung up on him. Wished that maybe you wouldn’t have said the things you did. Wished that you would have swallowed your pride and reached out. Too many wishes, but it was all in the past and you couldn’t change it now.

All you could do now was face the day. Face the fact that you would be seeing him again. Face the emotions that were going to resurface.

You did a small twirl, calming your nerves in the process. If anything you could hide with Mickey, Cielo, Abby, Bob, and Reuben if things became too much. Or at least just Cielo and Abby. No matter what, you would survive. Ignoring the sensation tightening in your chest, you moved to the bathroom to finish your makeup.

Bradley stared at himself in the dressing room mirror, ignoring all of those who were fluttering around him. He had known about this day for a long time. Hell, he knew when Jake decided he was going to propose. Jake had immediately sent him and Javy a picture of the ring. Eager. That was all Bradley had thought about it. Bradley had a slightly pessimistic view on love now.

After his last relationship, he took a break from love. It was too painful, the only thing in the world that could hurt everyone. Even those whose walls were so high, heart so guarded. Those like Bradley.

Love had been the most damaging thing in Bradley’s life. The love for his father? Heart breaking. The love for his mother? Life altering. The love he had once felt for Maverick? Trust breaking. The love he had for you? World crumbling. It wasn’t worth it anymore in his mind. He had tried it multiple times, each time ending in pain.

The pain he had felt with you had been different though. It was a shared one, a pain he could tell that you were also experiencing. It wasn’t like when his dad just never returned home, or when his mom took her final breath in the hospital, or when Mav set him back. All of that had been one sided, him being the only one being hurt. But when he saw the tears roll down your cheeks, the way your chest heaved with each breath. That finally click he heard when you hung up. The ache in his chest as he stared at the phone, deciding not to call you back.

Yeah, you had been the one to hang up, but Bradley had been the one who did nothing. He didn’t do anything in that moment except let you slip through his fingers, like sand in an hour glass. He regretted it to this day. Knowing he should have at least reached out but didn’t. It was one of the biggest mistakes of his life. He finally popped his collar up then ran the tie for his suit around it.

He hadn’t been this dressed up, outside of his Navy regalia, in a long time. The last time he remembered was for your cousins wedding. A smile drifted to his lips, but only a small one, as he recalled the way you had tied his tie for him. Your face was so calm and focused, threading the material through the knot and tightening it up for him. His own hands followed the same pattern that yours once did. He was never able to capture it completely, but he always preferred how you had tied his ties.

“Crazy, huh?” Javy said while grabbing Bradley’s shoulder and pulling him close.

“That’s one word for it,” Bradley let out a little chuckle.

The two of them sat there for a moment, silence over taking them. Javy's bright smile faded a little when he met Bradley’s gaze in the mirror. Javy wasn’t oblivious to what today meant for Bradley, Jake neither. Jake had told Bradley immediately when Danica sent out invitations. Bradley was happy you would be there, seeing the union of two amazing friends. But he couldn’t ignore the anxiety festering in his chest.

“If you need anything, just ask man.”

“Thanks.”

Throughout the entire ceremony you had fought the urge to throw up. Which now lead to you in the bathroom, waiting for your nausea to calm down. It was the worst symptom of anxiety you got, that and the tightness in your chest. You didn’t think that seeing Bradley would do this to you. You had been preparing and hyping yourself up all morning, only for him to crack it all with one look. A look he didn’t even return.

You moved to the sink, looking at yourself in the mirror. That’s when you noticed something that you didn’t catch prior. Well, you had ‘caught’ it, but didn’t realize the full extent of your choice in lipstick. It was Bradley’s favorite shade. It was a soft neutral, one you wore cause it went with everything. Bradley had loved it because, “It just makes you glow”, or at least that was what he had told you. Your fingertips almost brushed your lips, but you stopped yourself and simple smiled.

The reception was gorgeous, the entire thing had been gorgeous. It was an outdoor venue, a boho-esque farm house that had been transitioned into a wedding venue. People were swarming everywhere, waiting to the newly weds and wedding party to show up for things to officially start. You made your way up the steps of the outdoor pavilion, looking around only to find familiar faces staring back at you. Danica and Jake had been kind enough to put all their good friends at the same table. Bob and Mickey both noticed you at the same time, alerting everyone else at the table of your presence.

“Look who finally decided to show up,” Reuben said as he stood to pull your chair out for you.

“As if I wouldn’t miss this,” you replied while sitting down.

“That’s right, can’t stay away from us,” Mickey said with a big grin.

The night had moved fast. Dinner had been an event, Javy making his way over to your guys table to greet everyone. Jake and Danica eventually came over too, only after making sure to say hello to all the extended family, which Mickey was claiming you all were a part of. You, Cielo, Abby, and Natasha had talked about the struggles of finding the perfect guest dresses. Bob chiming in to say that you all looked phenomenal, only to turn red when you all complimented him back while Abby pressed a kiss to his cheek. The only person that was missing from your group was Bradley.

Your anxiety about the situation had subsided when the wedding party walked in. Bradley had actually looked at you, even gave you a small smile. The butterflies you had felt weren’t brand new, but they weren’t something you had felt in a long time. They were a regular thing Bradley used to give you, no matter how comfortable you had become with him. Butterflies on your one year anniversary, two year, and even three year.

Your gazes didn’t stop meeting throughout the entirety of dinner. He calmly sat at the wedding party table, disappearing at some point. The thought about finding him had crossed your mind, but you decided to stay seated, a small amount of anxiety winning that battle. It was a good thing though, the first dance starting only a few minutes after you made the decision.

All of you sat there mesmerized by the gorgeous couple dancing. They looked so seamless together, making your heart swell with fondness for the both of them. After the first dance was the dances they had with their parents. Danica with her father, Jake with his mother. All of it, everything was making something inside of you sad. Not for the people around you, but for the fact that you could have had this.

The night continued though. About forty-five minutes had passed since the music and dancing had started. You were sitting at your assigned table while sipping your wine. It had been your second glass. Even though you wanted to get really drunk, you decided not to. It wasn’t the time nor place, and seeing Bradley didn’t fully constitute it. But there was a still a part of you, one that was becoming a little overwhelming, was yearning for him.

A slow song had started to play, many people dispersing from the dance floor. It wasn’t the first slow song and it wouldn’t be that last. During the first slow song, Reuben had asked if you wanted to dance at one point after seeing the saddened look on your face. You had politely declined though, and Reuben confirmed that he understood. The two of you instead had sat at the table and watched all the varying couples on the floor. Jake and Danica, Javy and Natasha, Bob and Abby, Mickey and Cielo. The first time you didn’t take notice to Bradley’s presence, trying to ignore the silent plea inside of you.

Your heart was screaming at you, telling you to just walk over. It was wishing that you would simply go up and talk to him. Wishing that he would come talk to you. Wishing for so much that would probably never happen.

But this time you did notice his presence.

That’s because he wasn’t there, completely absent from the pavilion.

The day was going better than Bradley had anticipated.

So what if his chest was filled to the brim with regret and anxiety. He could get over that. What he couldn’t get over was how beautiful everything was. The venue looked like something from out of a movie, Danica truly looked like Venus, and it was perfect. Including you. Before he even walked down the dirt path they called the aisle, his eyes were locked on you.

How could they not be?

After countless days and nights he had spent with you. The very image of you was seared into his soul, being able to immediately pick you out before even seeing your face. You looked as beautiful as ever. It made his heart race, now being faced with the reality that he was only a mere twenty feet away from you. So, he made sure not to make eye contact throughout the entire ceremony. It was harder than he thought it would be. All he wanted to do was look at you, but he forced himself not to.

That was until the reception started. When he walked up the steps of the pavilion his heart was hammering. The DJ announced his name and he walked through, eyes finally meeting yours. It was brief, but it was enough to make his mind spin. He immediately noticed the color of your lips. It was his color, the one he had always loved on you. The one that made you look radiant, complimenting you in all the best ways. It had always grabbed his attention. It wasn’t an extravagant color, but you made it extravagant.

And you continued to keep his attention all night. His eyes followed you, adverting away fast enough for you not to notice when you looked his direction. It was borderline painful watching you with all of his friends. They were your friends too, but the two of you hadn’t been around all of them at the same time in forever. Not actual forever, but that’s what it felt like to Bradley. More like a lifetime.

All he kept thinking was about how foolish he had been. Wishing all over again that he would have done just something. Called you back, sent a text, or simply just not disappear out of your life. But at the time he thought that was the best thing. Only after did he realize how dumb he actually had been. He had to leave the pavilion for a moment, getting fresh air to relieve himself. He returned only a few minutes later.

Then when Jake and Danica started the first dance he started to feel sick. If he would have been better, that could have been the two of you. He could have seen you in one of those gorgeous white gowns. All he saw when he pictured it was you as an ethereal being. This all had to be karma, finally coming around to bite him in the ass. And it didn’t stop either. Watching everyone take their partner, arms wrapped lovingly around them.

Watching how Bob softly moved a stray strand of hair from Abby’s face. The bright smile that Mickey brought to Cielo. Even the way Natasha was laughing at Javy's dumb jokes. He wished that he could have been like that with you. Whisking you around the floor, whispering in your ear about how lucky he was to have you. But it was simply a wish, nothing more.

So Bradley left.

He didn’t want to sit with the regret and pain anymore. The memories of how foolish he had been to let you slip through his hands. He made his way out of the pavilion, dress shoes hitting the grass quickly as he walked a little bit away from the pavilion. Warm deep breaths filled his lungs as he stared out at the sky. Hues of orange and pink were starting to blend in with the clouds.

Not even a minute later did he hear someone coming down the pavilion steps. He waited for a moment, hoping he would hear the steps hit the stone path, but they didn’t. The small sound of shifting grass was creeping closer to him, making hm let out a sigh. He was whole heartedly expecting to see Javy, maybe even Nat in tow. But when he turned around he was much more surprised.

“Hi,” you said barely above a whisper.

“I.. Hi,” Bradley greeted back.

The two of you stood there for a moment, staring at one another. Bradley’s eyes had brightened, a soft smile pulling at his lips. Which you mimicked, offering your own small smile at him. Neither of you knew exactly what to say. It didn’t feel awkward, but it wasn’t one hundred percent comfortable either. You looked up, seeing the gorgeous colors of the sky. Bradley looked up to see a little more pink had settled in the sky.

“It’s beautiful,” you said.

“It really is,” Bradley replied.

There were a few beats of silence before you spoke again.

“I hope I’m not disturbing you,” you didn’t look at him, keeping your gaze towards the sky.

Bradley looked at you though, wondering why you would ask that question. You had never bothered him ever, he just sucked at showing how much he cared about you. Sucked so much he couldn’t even properly show it to you.

“You never have,” Bradley decided it was a now or never thing.

You looked at him, raising an eyebrow to act like you had no idea what he was implying. A breathy half laugh passed your lips as you stared at him now. You waited for a moment, hoping he might retract it or something. That never came though, so you dropped the slightly confused expression from your face.

“Bradley, I didn’t mean it like that,” your smile was gone now.

Bradley nodded, “I know, but there was a lot I wanted to say and never did.”

Those bubbles of anxiety were floating back into your chest, threatening to pop at any moment. But there were things that you had never said either. It was now or never, say your peace or forever hold it.

“There’s a lot I never said either,” you started to fiddle with your hands, a nervous habit you had always had.

“First, I want to say I’m sorry, genuinely,” Bradley’s eyes were sincere as he spoke, “you didn’t deserve anything that happened or that I said. I was stupid then, the emotionally capacity of a peanut.” You both let out a chuckle after that one. “And I don’t expect everything to be magically okay, but I just wanted to apologize and say”, he paused briefly, “that I miss you.”

It felt like your heart had broken into two. Everything you had ever seen in the media was telling you to ditch him, tell him to fuck off. But you couldn’t, because you completely understood what he was saying. You felt the exact same way. Ever since he left it was like you were missing something, double checking every time you left your apartment.

“Bradley, I’m miss you too,” you grabbed his hand as you spoke.

His hand encapsulated yours. The warmth was something familiar yet distant. He had always ran a bit warmer than you, something you had always appreciated. A soft smile appeared on his face once more. He rubbed his thumb lightly on the back of your hand. Neither of you were sure how much time had truly passed since you found him, but another slow song started to play in the distance. Bradley let out a small huff that caught your attention.

“What?” You asked.

“I just… I’ve been meaning to ask you all night,” Bradley started, “would you like to dance?”

“Yeah, I think I’d like that.”

The two of you stayed there in the grass. Bradley kept you close to him, hands resting on your waist. You rested your head on his chest while your arms where wrapped around his neck. It was peaceful, anxiety melting off the both of you. It wasn’t completely perfect, but it was something the both of you had wished for.

#1989tgm #bradley bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw angst #rooster angst #bradley bradshaw x reader #rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw imagine #rooster fanfic

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infranthrax · 2 months

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helo. im one they call 🍂 and id like to. make a request. i hope ur doing okay (*＞∇＜)ﾉ ur free to write this or not

i would like to request an angst w/ a good ending type of thing if its okay. a platonic f!reader&heartslabyul (seperately. if its limited to one character, you can go with riddle) headcanon that has the following plot;

mc is a pessimistic person, a very tired, overworked one. all they want is a bit of peace and quiet, but they care about the heartslabyul gang very much. they have kind of become a mom/older sister to the group (kinda like trey). anyway, one day the gang realizes that mc seems more irritable than usual which results in them making a snide remark/get in an arguement about the guy's flaws (like how riddle hurt many pre-overblot, how ace runs his mouth at the worst times, how deuce is not the brightest around, cater being addicted to his little social media sites, and trey ignoring the problems regarding riddle because he didnt want conflict, etc etc) that would hurt them.

they kind of ghosting everyone for a couple of days to calm down, and then they awkwardly come back with a box of sweets (that they managed to purchase by scraping by lmao, girlie's poor as hell...) to apologize, and eat them over tea! mc apologizes directly and wants to make up for their words, but they are not the best at speaking their mind.

ive seen countless fics where the main cast gets to be the agressive and sad, sopping wet cats, and reader comforting them. ngl, i wanted to write a piece where MC is the "sad little pathetic shrimp" but i just didnt have the time. anyway, i hope you like this prompt

oh my god I love this prompt! the mc is definitely the therapist of the group and I can imagine this happening… I restricted it down to just riddle given how detailed this prompt was, the rest of the dorm is self explanatory.☺️/pos (and thank you for your kind words! I hope you’re having a good day/night!)

generating new memory… please, one moment… ✨

𝐁𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊!

Heartslabyul x f!reader — headcanons!

sypnopsis: mc has had enough of the anal shenanigans after a near traumatic event, and she lashes back out at riddle, who is left bewildered and heated at the event.

light tw // domestic conflict, implied traumatic event

riddle rosehearts

riddle is just anal and sometimes he comes off as bossy and or ungrateful. that’s not really his intention however. that’s just an act of conditioning he’s been through.

so when he sees that you’re overwhelmed, at first he blind sighted to it. riddle isn’t great per se at emotions— let alone the ones of other people.

he gets on you for being late to class one day and it all piles up. You’re in a dorm full of boys— what girl wouldn’t have enough? at the time it was little around the time in which riddle overblotted, and he just went on with daily life like none of that ever happened.

he fucking hurt your ass. quite frankly that was the first (of many) overblots you’ll have to go through, and that’s how you’re gonna handle it? hell no, especially after the fact that you had to play superwoman to get the goons out of a near death situation.

before this, you had gotten into tiffs with the redhead on numerous occasions, trying to ground him down. never really did it work though as he was always stuck in his perfectionist ways. and you hated that about him because his mannerisms reflected into you.

he expected you to be able to carry yourself in a manner that would suit him. he expected you to dress a certain way. he expected you to follow his orders, his rules, his ultimatum. that you couldn’t stand any longer.

when he got on you for being tardy, the melting pot overflowed… and it wasn’t pretty either. let’s say you were in pain, in addition to your mental health plummeting due to not really having anyone to talk to, and then when mother nature calls upon you for your monthly drain you must attend.

you shouldn’t mess with the wrath of a woman on her period. this, riddle learned the hard way… with you.

“riddle… i swear… on god’s green earth, if you don’t shut the hell up… i’m fucking TRYING. I’M TRYING! FUCK YOU, YOU UPTIGHT PIECE OF SHIT, GO ON SOMEWHERE!”

and then the fire brewed. and then it exploded. (quite literally.) it would be hellish screaming match between you two, despite riddle claiming he is above such things. he really isn’t, he’s got a temper that’s about as fagile as glass. (no, it’s not microwave safe.)

after your blow up with riddle, you both proceed to give each other the silent treatment for the better part of a month. during this time you find comfort in your other classmates, spending time with other students outside of heartsllabyul, namely vil and rook, just for a boost of female empowerment.

and while riddle was contemplating all the bullshit that went down between the two of you, he began to feel a little bit of guilt. mattered if fact, both of you did. you shouldn’t have been so aggressive and he shouldn’t have been so… well, himself.

before class one day you enter your lab room to see a small box at your seat with a little note attached to it.

it was from riddle— a little chocolate potion bottle with those biscuits— the exact ones from the disney movie. little did he know, you happened to pop by sam’s shop to get him some mini fruit tarts and snuck into his class early to put them on his desk. you ate his little gift up, in a little bit of worry. would he accept that?

at the end of the day though, you had to return to heartslabyul to see him. and what a surprise, he wanted to talk to you.

call it him playing kiss ass— no, he’s not. he’s sorry. to be true, he should be more careful and more intuitive as a dorm lead to ensure the comfort of his students, and he does understand that sometimes he can come off as overbearing or, dare i say dictatorial. it’s really not meant to cause harm. it has a lot to do with his upbringing.

and you were sorry too. and you both hugged it out. every couple has their tiffs, right? just something he’s gonna have to work on.

#📍|| infra is logging��#twisted wonderland #memory bank #quick access #files application #twst #twst x reader #riddle rosehearts #riddle rosehearts x reader #riddle x reader #heartslabyul #twst angst

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ginabaker1666 · 17 days

Text

All Of Me

From the Love Letters Series

Robert “Rosie” Rosenthal x Josephine Harris (OFC)

Jo struggles with her response to Rosie's first letter but later finds help in an unlikely friend with shared common ground. It's his second letter back-to-back, however, that stacks her worry like wobbly apple crates, ready to tumble at a moment's notice.

Read part 2 Here Follow along with the Love Letters Playlist

October 1943

My Dearest Robbie,

Today is Halloween, so it would be remiss of me not to wish you a Happy one. I know you won’t be celebrating; not that we are either, but it’s still heartwarming to see some of the littles in the neighborhood running up and down the streets looking for sweets. I’m saving a Hershey bar for when you’re back, so that we can share it like we always do. The leaves have all turned by now, and Prospect Park is a beautiful shade of golden hues. I’ve taken to walking with your sister, as it fills a small void in my days. She’s excellent company, and somehow always has some local gossip at the ready for when I need cheering up. I couldn’t help myself and told her the story of your bicycling disaster. Please don’t be too mad at me. I hope that by now, you’ve learned to ride a bike properly, and that poor Pappy hasn’t had to fish you out of any more ditches. Please thank him for me, because I don’t know what I would have done if he had not been there to rescue you.

If I know you at all, I know that you’ve been hemming and hawing over the weather over there, but the longer it rains in England, the better I feel knowing you’re on solid ground. I’m glad to know you’re able to find some respite in the Officers Club, even if it’s just some jazz records and mediocre scotch. Good company can make all the difference and it warms my heart to know you have that in your crew and fellow officers. I’m putting my bet in now on Nash and the Red Cross girl. Having someone is important, so if he finds that in her, I’m glad for them both. Tell Pappy not to be so pessimistic though, I’m sure Nash will make her very happy.

Speaking of having someone waiting, I paid a visit to Harry Crosby’s wife, Jean. I thought she could use a friend, so we spent an afternoon in the city, having lunch and doing some shopping. It’s lonely enough moving to a new city, but with her husband overseas, I can’t imagine how she feels. I know how I feel waiting for you, and so she must feel it tenfold. With the holidays approaching, I’ve invited her to spend Thanksgiving with us. I couldn’t bear the idea of her spending it alone. She’s a darling woman, and I agree, we will have to double with her and Harry once you’re both home.

Sweetheart, how you could ever think that I will not worry about you while you’re over there, is a mystery. I will worry, and miss you, every single day until you’re back home. I will be holding you to that date, Robbie, and am counting the days until we’re on the dance floor, together. Until then…

Forever yours,

Reaching for the bottle of perfume on the dresser, Jo quickly spritzed a generous helping of the floral scent on the paper in her hand, to ensure it lasted the long journey, before folding it up and sliding it into its designated envelope. Carefully, and with a delicate hand, she addressed the letter to Thorpe Abbotts Airbase. She had received Rosie’s first letter earlier in the week, and had spent that time drafting multiple responses; all of which had ended up in the waste paper basket in the corner of her bedroom. She had spent three nights mulling it over, before deciding that she should clear her head, and write as if he was sitting next to her. Well, it was not so much her deciding as it was advice from Jean Crosby. If anyone had experience in writing these types of letters, it was Jean. And so, Jo had written as if Rosie was sitting next to her; as if he was leaning across the table and telling her the details of his latest adventure with enthusiasm, and she had written back with equal vigor.

Picking up the letter, and her purse, she made her way from the bedroom, downstairs to where her mother was having coffee with Mrs. Rosenthal. Entering the kitchen, both women ceased their discussion to greet her, her mother holding out an envelope for her.

“Josephine, this came in the mail for you.”

Jo gently plucked the envelope from her mothers hand, smiling when she saw the handwriting on the front was none other than Rosie’s. Carefully, she slipped it into her purse to read once she was alone.

“Another letter so quickly?” Her mother’s grin widened. “He must miss you terribly.”

“He doesn’t write to me that frequently,” Mrs. Rosenthal joked, sending a subtle wink in Jo’s direction. “But then again, he’s not in love with me.”

“Somehow, I think he’ll always love you most, Mrs. Rosenthal, and I’m quite alright with that.” Jo smiled.

“Where are you off to?” Her mother asked, noticing that she had her purse in hand.

“Off to post this to Robbie, and then to meet Jean Crosby for lunch.”

“Oh, well then, travel safely, and let her know she’s welcome to come here for dinner tonight if she wants.”

“I’ll let her know, mom,” Jo smiled, moving to bid her mother goodbye with a quick peck to the cheek, before doing the same with Mrs. Rosenthal. “Now, you two can go back to your gossip.”

“It’s not gossip, Josephine, if we’re talking about our children.” The older woman’s voice held a lilt to it as Jo exited the kitchen.

“Then stop planning our wedding!” Jo called back with a laugh as she exited their home and made her way out into the Brooklyn sunshine.

The fall air was chilly, but not unbearably so as she walked down the block to the Post Office, letter in hand and a prayer in her mind that it would reach Rosie safely. She knew that the post could be unreliable, and take time to reach those stationed overseas, but she hoped against all odds that maybe her letter would get to its intended recipient a little faster than all the rest. It was silly of her to think so, after all, she wasn’t the only woman in New York who was missing her sweetheart, but this was new to her. To both of them. Beginning a romance with thousands of miles between them. Some days Jo regretted not saying anything sooner, wondering if they would have had time before he shipped out. But, then she thinks to herself that they did have time; years together growing up, and learning the ways of each other inside and out, and for that she would always be thankful.

A short cab ride later, and Jo was knocking on Jean Crosby’s front door. When the door swung open, Jean on the other side, the two women greeted each other as if they were old friends. A kinship that was shared in the dark times of war, but somehow found a ray of light to brighten their days.

“Jo! I was starting to think you got lost!” Her friend teased.

“No,” Jo grinned, red lips stretched into a smile. “I had to stop by the post and drop off Robbie’s letter.”

“Finally finished it, then?”

“I did. And just in time to reply to the one I got this morning.”

“Back to back?” Jean looked at her, eyebrow raised in what Jo could only describe as concern.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

Jean sighed, stopping mid way of pulling her white gloves on, to face Jo with a serious expression.

“Well…”

“You don’t think…”

“The only time I get back to back letters from Bing, is when something bad is happening over there.”

“Jean…”

“If it came from him, he’s fine, honey.” she reached out, hand coming down over Jo’s in reassurance.

“It’s in my purse,” Jo confessed. “I haven’t read it yet.”

“Do you want to go sit and read it before we leave?”

“I suppose I’d feel better if I knew for sure he was alright.”

Nodding, Jean pulled off her gloves, and dropped her purse back on the credenza by the door, before guiding Jo further into the house.

Once settled in the living room, Jean began to step away, to allow Jo the privacy that a letter from your man overseas deserved, when Jo’s hand shot out to stop her.

“Could you…?”

“Of course.” Jean smiled softly, settling into the sofa next to her, but with enough space not to read over her shoulder.

Jo carefully opened the envelope, fingers trembling as she slid the paper from its confines. Unfolding it, her eyes scanned over the paper quickly, before releasing a shuddering breath of relief.

“He’s alright,” her hand flew to her chest as the words escaped her. “He’s somewhere called the Flak House?”

“Never heard of that,” Jean looked confused. “What is it?”

My Dearest Jo,

Sweetheart, I can’t promise this letter will be as happy as my last one. What I can promise is that I’m alright, and spending the next week in the English countryside at a place called the Flak House. It’s a place used to help soldiers rest after rough missions. Jo, it’s been three rough ones, back to back, with what felt like no end in sight. I will spare you the details, because you shouldn’t have to read about all of the blood, and horrors, but I do sadly need to tell you that we lost Herbert Nash on the first mission. It happened so quickly, it didn’t register until I had my feet on the ground again. I broke the news to Helen, his Red Cross girl, and I pray that what I saw on her face, is something no one will ever have to see on yours.

One day, maybe, I will give you the details of our third mission, but for now, I know I should be counting my blessings. And enjoying this time, because sweetheart, this estate truly is something, but the kind of something I would want to be enjoying with you. Together, in the warm sun, reading our favorite books, or rowing on the lake. The boys are enjoying their week of R&R, but I can’t find it in me to relax. Though, I suppose you knew that already. Nobody knows me better than you, Jo, and it’s a time like this that I wish I had you near.

I couldn’t sleep, which is the reason for this letter, and I think a part of it is that I needed to make sure you knew I was alright. The other part of me, in some way, needed to get this all off my chest. I’m sorry for burdening you with these ugly truths. I’ll try not to do it often, and I hope that it doesn’t become a habit with every mission, that I’m left rattled to my core with fear. I can hear you telling me to take care of myself, and honey, I promise I’m trying. By the time this makes it to you back home, I will be long gone from my stay here, and back on base. I’m sorry for the short letter, darling. I promise the next one will be longer, and happier. Until then…

All of my love, always

Robbie

Jo finished reading, her stomach dropping as she turned to Jean, to confirm that the other woman had in fact, been right.

“Jo, what is it?”

“He couldn’t say much, spared most of the details, but he said it was rough up there.”

“Is he alright?”

“Robbie’s fine,” Jo confirmed. “But, Herbert Nash, is dead.”

“Oh that poor Red Cross girl!” She gasped, hand coming to cover her mouth in shock. “Didn’t they just meet?”

“They did,” Jo nodded. “I told Robbie I was rooting for the pair in the letter I just posted.”

“How could you have known?”

“I know, but that doesn’t mean I don’t feel sore over it.”

“I know you do,” Jean sympathized. The woman had enough sense to stand, and pull Jo up with her, knowing if she didn’t get them out of the house, her friend would likely spiral with worry. “Now come on, put that letter back in your purse, and let’s get out of the house for a bit.”

With a sigh, Jo nodded, and carefully put the letter back in the safety of her purse, before turning and following Jean towards the front door. For now, she could breathe easy, knowing that Rosie was safe. She knew that his mind was likely full of dark clouds, replaying events of the damage over and over, causing him grief and sadness; it brought with it a melancholy feeling that she wasn’t with him, and couldn’t be there for him to lean on. She knew he had his crew, and now, Harry Crosby, and she prayed that he had the sense to use that to his advantage.

Jo was grateful that she had Jean. Their afternoon out kept her mind off of the letter that was burning a hole in her purse, and the man who was an ocean away, suffering the loss of a friend. They had stopped by the Automat for lunch, before taking the train uptown for some window shopping, and at Jo’s insistence, a new hat for Jean. By the time she had gotten back home, her mother was already cleaning up dinner. Her father was in the living room, the radio on while he listened to the nightly news.

“Josephine, you missed dinner.” Her mother lamented at the sound of the front door closing behind her.

“I’m sorry, mom,” Jo sighed, entering the kitchen and sliding into one of the empty chairs. “We got a late start on our lunch.”

Turning from her spot at the sink, Mrs. Harris surveyed her daughter, before promptly shutting the water and moving to sit across from her.

“What happened? Are you alright?”

“I’m fine, Jean and I just had a busy day is all.”

“Josephine, don’t lie to me.” She spoke with the authority of a mother who meant business, and Jo couldn’t help the few tears that escaped from behind her eyes.

“Robbie’s letter,” she swiftly wiped away the first stray tear. “Oh mom, he lost one of his closest friends!”

Mrs. Harris let out a shuddering breath at Jo’s admission. The fear she had felt at the sight of her daughter's tears made her think the absolute worst for the young man who had become part of their family, and stolen her daughter’s heart.

“Who was it?” Mrs. Harris asked.

“Herbert Nash. He trained with Robbie in Texas, and he was killed on their first mission.”

“May his soul rest in peace.” Mrs. Harris made the sign of the cross.

“Robbie said it was so bad, three flights, back to back. He didn’t say much else, just that it was too much blood and horror to share.”

“Jesus, that poor boy.”

Jo fished the letter from her purse, sliding it across the table to her mother, giving a small nod for her to read it.

“Are you sure you want me to?”

“Just the once.” Jo smiled slightly.

“Well, alright then.”

Mrs. Harris pulled the paper from the envelope, and then the only sound in the room was the breathing of mother and daughter, and the muffled sound of the radio coming from the living room. The pair sat together until Jo’s mother folded the paper back up, and handed it back to her. The silence was growing thicker the longer they sat there, neither sure of what to say. When Jo’s father joined them in the kitchen, the two women seemed to snap out of their daze.

“What’s going on in here then?”

“She’s got another letter from Robert.”

“Didn’t you just get one? Is he alright?”

Jo nor her mother missed the recognition in Mr. Harris’ eyes. Having served in The Great War, he knew what could be in any one of the letters his daughter received, and he hoped for her sake, that none of them would make her cry the way she was now.

“He’s fine. Lost a man during his first mission, and was sent to an estate for rest.” Her mother filled him in for her.

“Jesus, already? Didn’t the boy just get over there?” Her father looked shocked.

“He said it was really bad, dad.” Jo spoke up, finding her voice again.

“Well, the best thing you can do is be there for him, even though you’re far away right now.” Her mother let her hand fall to cover hers, eyes filled with the understanding of a woman whose husband had been away once before.

“Your mother was what kept me going during the war,” Her father agreed. “I can promise you, Robert will take your words with him up there when he’s flying.”

“Go now,” her mother ushered her out of the kitchen. “Clean yourself up and write him back. You’ll sleep better tonight knowing you got your feelings out.”

She felt heavy as she stood from her chair, her legs like lead as she made her way upstairs to her bedroom, numbness encompassing her until she had the door shut securely behind her. The words blood and horror swirling around in her mind over and over, like the edges of a cyclone that showed no signs of slowing down. Is that what this was? A storm that would continue to speed up, with nothing to stop it, until the last bomb was dropped, the last round fired? She wasn’t sure, but she turned the ideas over and over, words sticking together in her head as she changed for bed, removed her makeup, until finally, she pulled out the chair at her desk to begin her reply to Rosie.

My Dearest Robbie,

Sweetheart, I don’t think there are enough words for me to express just how sorry I am for you after opening your last letter. To lose Nash so quickly, and in such a way. I hope that it didn’t pain you too deeply to break that news to his Red Cross sweetheart, and that she is able to find some happiness again soon. Do not apologize for the length of your last letter. Every letter from you is something I treasure, whether it’s three words, or three pages. I will always reply, so long as you’ll have me.

I’d like to hear more about the Estate you spent the week at, if you’re willing to talk about it. It does sound like the kind of place I would love to spend time with you, though, anywhere you are, is somewhere I want to be. Maybe we can escape somewhere lush and green once you return, and spend our days under the sun, with nothing but time on our hands. Until then, yes, you were right, I do wish you’d take care of yourself. I know you will, but that sometimes it takes a bit of pushing. Don’t try and shoulder the burden all alone, Robbie. You have people who will shoulder it with you; Pappy isn’t just your co-pilot in the sky. Try and remember that.

I’d like to try and make you smile, if only for a moment. I found our mothers gossiping at the kitchen table this afternoon as I headed out. They claim it’s not gossip if they’re talking about their children; I suspect they’re plotting as usual. Speaking of your mother, try and squeeze in an extra letter for her, if you can. She misses you, though she claims to be alright with you writing to me more than her, I know she’d appreciate an extra piece of mail and to know you’re doing well. Don’t give her too much grief for the gossip, you know she can’t help it.

I’m counting the days until you’re here again, Robbie, and we can carry on as we were meant to; together. Until that time comes, I’m sending you all of my love.

All of me, always

Read Part 4 Here

A/N: Thanks for reading! This series will continue for Rosie & Jo, so if you enjoyed this, please like, comment, reblog- whichever is your poison. Feedback is always welcome & my ask box is always open. If you want to be added to my tag list, or removed, let me know!

Tag List: @winniemaywebber @sagesolsticewrites @rosiesriveter @bobparkhurst @victoryrollsandredlips @bcolfanfic @rowdy-redhead @major-mads @footprintsinthesxnd @basilone @at-1800-hours @justheretoreadthxxs @claireelizabeth85

#masters of the air #love letters: rosie & jo #mota fanfic #rosie rosenthal x ofc #rosie rosenthal fic #robert rosenthal x ofc #rosie rosenthal x oc #nate mann #hbo war #Gina baker writes

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y2kbugs · 7 months

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Why Rincewind deserves your love

Tumblr loves characters like Rincewind right now. The sad, weary one who really doesn't want to be here but does it anyway cause no one else bothered, and is often vulnerable, cowardly, and a weakling compared to everyone else. In other words, the pathetic wet cat, the poor little meow meow.

Vimes is also a perfect example of this archetype, he's there and he's great, but Rincewind to me is a sort of hidden gem bogged down by the author's early writing and the struggle to live up to those later, more deep characters. It doesn't really help that Pratchett also got bored of writing him, and only felt obligated because he had fans (which in a way sounds like Rincewind himself), but...

The first two books aren't even bad. The only thing I'd say is that TCOM has some confusing writing going on and feels more like a collection of stories but it's good and could be better if rewritten. Rincewind is a wonderful character and Twoflower is a delight. TLF is a definite improvement writing and character wise and gives development to Rincewind.

He's not "a weak character who doesn't do anything but run". He is not badly written. He is a character who does not want to be the hero but does it anyway. He has deep empathy and believes that throwing your life away for a good cause is inherently selfish rather than selfless (and! he does this himself, kind of. He does make a sacrifice to help somebody, but he lives).

He isn't stupid. He might be the smartest character in his books, but that's more because the other characters are relatively kind of dumb. The only thing he's really bad at is being a wizard, that's it. He's not a good wizard, but he's a great strategist, he knows a lot about magic, knows almost every language on Discworld and this was how he got to know Twoflower in the first place. I would call him an average intelligence and very high wisdom character in DnD. He's intensely rational and will point out gaps in reasoning and logic. He might be a pessimist, but he has experience and he's going to use that.

That's not to say he doesn't make mistakes. He absolutely does, but making dumb mistakes is much different from willful and sheer ignorance which he does not display.

His hat says "Wizzard" because it's supposed to be a pun on "he can't spell", and it's highly unlikely that he actually misspelled it not knowing the actual spelling considering he reads a lot.

He is very, very defensive and adamant about his identity as a wizard. It's pretty much everything to him and he has a crisis whenever other characters mock and have general distrust of wizards.

He's done the following:

Beat the shit out of an eldritch horror until it ran away from him (TLF),

forced an extremely powerful spell out of his head with sheer will (TLF),

Defeated the most powerful deceased wizard possessing a magical staff with only a brick in a sock, and took both himself and the wizard's son into the Dungeon Dimensions, where he fought back creatures to allow the boy to escape. (Sourcery)

Gave the boy a speech about how it's important to not let anyone define who you are as a person and no one should have to tell you what to do (Sourcery)

Used a whole terracotta army to beat an entire army, and succesffully intimidated them via psychological tricks. (Interesting Times)

Brought rain back to Fantasy Australia and talked back against Death who convinced him to give up. (TLC)

Maybe he's not the most sympathetic character, because he's not chivalrous or manly. He has no bravery and freely admits to being a coward, he's kind of a jerk who cools down as time goes on, and he's selfish enough that he thinks being selfless is a total waste of time and is selfish in itself. He's a cynic and a pessimist with a worldview shaped by his terrible experiences on Discworld, but he's very well-traveled even against his own will, and from this experience he knows precisely how to get out of danger, how to outsmart an individual (or a whole army) and more.

He's shown empathy. Being tired at the world at large and not liking the other wizards very much but going out of his way to save the world from a wizard gone rogue anyway because nobody else bothered to and he's angry, saving a boy from his abusive father's power and diving headfirst into the Dungeon Dimensions, trying to convince an "army" of mostly children why trying to fight against a legitimate army of warriors is a horrible idea and will only get them killed, Helping some thirsty sheep out to get access to water despite not needing to, bringing rain back to Fantasy Australia even though he could have given up and gone home at any moment, being made a "test subject" for the wizard's project in creating Roundworld/Earth, learning aabout the life on there over millions of years and talking about how hard it is for life to grow on there in its earliest millions of years, teaching Roundworld inhabitats the importance of art and creativity not only to outsmart the elves but because he wanted to (while the other wizards considered him stupid for this idea).

And he doesn't want to be a hero, he has no obligation to and is perfectly happy just being alone in the library and reading old books. He wants a life of peace and quiet and nothing life-threatening, but unfortunately he's pushed into these situations. Often though instead of simply resigning himself and giving up altogether, he sucks it up and goes and does it anyway with the expectation that he can go home in the end. That, and by now he's already expected this is his role: to fix shit and go home, even though he'd love to have someone else do his job.

It rubs me the wrong way to see people call him one-dimensional or just "the guy that is scared and runs away"...That to me is like simply calling Vimes "the depressed cop who drinks a lot" or Granny Weatherwax "the old witch who kicks ass". Of course the character will seem one dimensional if you describe them that way. Vimes is better written overall and gets better development for sure, which is also what his character is built for, as well as a more serious story that doesn't lend itself as well to basically slapstick. Rincewind isn't built for overcoming his fears, but rather his selfish attitude and to finally find peace with himself, and he works as a comedic character while also balancing out the fact he can be anything other than a clown or coward.

He gets what he always wanted in the end too. Pratchett might not have wanted to write him anymore, but instead of simply putting him on a bus, he gave Rincewind a position at Unseen University, only dampened by the fact the other wizards clearly don't respect him, therefore he can't really be a professor as a job, but he doesn't mind. In fact, he loves that. He gets free food, a quiet place to stay, and has zero obligations. He's happy, and the last thing we know of him is that he's studying the effects of plants on the nervous system (Raising Steam), and he's very important in the Science Of Discworld series, initially being a test subject and later being the "to go" for information about Roundworld/Earth, even getting to keep the globe in his room.

#discworld #rincewind #this initially started out all casual but then it got long and essay-like as i am prone to writing #i probably got things wrong...correct me

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leikeliscomet · 6 months

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“But We Love Martha Jones!” - The Doctor Who Fandom’s Selective Memory of Racism

Chapter 4 - Martha Triumphant?

I want to say the show and fandom have improved how they treated Black characters since what happened to Martha/Freema but it hasn’t. From the backhanded praise of Bill, to the allegations of Tosin Cole being a “diversity hire”, to the dozens of excuses of why Jo Martin’s Doctor being reduced to cameos was somehow great Black female representation, it's clear the “we love Martha” tweets aren’t enough. It's a chicken or egg situation where I wonder was it the bias of the fandom being confirmed by the writing or the writing confirming the biases of the fandom but would that matter? Freema’s treatment isn’t exclusive to her as so many Black actors have come forward about the racism they’ve experienced and the failure of cast, crew and fandom to protect them. Many fans blatantly said RTD had no responsibility whatsoever to protect Freema and how poor Russell can’t be blamed for how people read S3.. even though he wrote it… so I’m already sceptical about how RTD2’s Black representation will turn out. I won’t be extra pessimistic, but I’m not patting RTD’s back just yet. Hope however does come in the shape of Ncuti Gatwa, the first Black man to play the Doctor in the main lineup. Again, not patting any backs just yet but I hope Ncuti’s welcome and the welcome of the next Black companion after Ryan shows growth from 2007. A Black character admired and adored for what they bring to the table. No backhanded comparisons to whoever came before, no companion initiation arc and no consolation prize ships - a developed character given the same TARDIS etiquette as the others. I hope the history of the next Black companion, whoever they may be, is a kinder one.

<- Chapter 3

#martha jones #rtd era #rtd critical #rtd2 #rtd2 era #fandom racism #dw fandom #doctor who fandom #doctor who #ryan sinclair #black representation #fandom analysis #fandom history #freema agyeman #dr who fandom #rtd1 #fandom antiblackness #moffat critical #chibnall critical

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erabu-san · 8 months

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IDK if someone want to read my Fremillei Brainrot but... here.

FREMILLEI TALKING, watching landscape ( ANGST A BIT (dont worry it ends well) it is not a fanfic bcuz lol i am so bad at writing (if it is not in french)

**CW : self depreciation**

**SLIGHT SPOIL : FREMINET BACKSTORY**

FORGIVE MY POOR ENGLISH BYEEE

Freminet suddenly being pessimist about himself, saying how he can only bring disappointment

"Don't say that !"

Collei shouting a bit fierce, which made Freminet jumping a bit

"You are also have your own strenght-"

He already heard those speech from his big sister but... it sounded different from Collei's mouth

"Look ! You can repare machine, you create toys... that's amazing ! Not everyone can do that ! In Sumeru, we could hire you in Kshahrewar Darshan... Freminet, you are amazing ! You can also diving, fishing..."

Freminet didn't know what to say, he is always gloomy.. "I am sorry Collei... you are just- amazing... compared to me I-"

"Please don't say that.."

Collei looks down.

Freminet suddenly felt guilty

"I am also like you, Freminet" her voice trembling

The young man was perplexed, but too scared to offense, he stayed in silent and just listen

"I feel terrible toward myself. Look, I am slow-learning, it still hard for me to read and write. I made a lot of mistake, I felt miserable... I am so scared to fail, I am so anxious when it comes people expectation... and my dark past growing back, my mind becomes weak and it is overwhelming... and sometime I can't resist them.. it hurts everywhere... it is like..." she stopped. She looked at the sky, trying to not cry. And after her pause, she turned her face to Freminet, with a smile but a broken voice

"It is like I am drowning."

Oh. Those words... that's exactly how he felt too. Those words resonated in him.

"I.. I stopped to trust people ! I hated my mother for giving me up. I hated everyone. But more than hating everyone, I hated myself..."

Freminet couldn't help to think about his mother.. when he didn't know the truth, did he hate her ? Did he hate the orphenage before "Father" took it..? Now he mature a bit, the only person he hate is... himself.

By this thought, he clenched his fist.

Collei took a deep breath and shouted

"BUT LIFE KEEPS GOING"

Freminet startled for a second time

"I met friends... family ! Who are dear to me. They give me their hands. They helped me. They are so patient with me. They love me. I can tell how genuine are their feelings...! And I am grateful to them. I love them too ! To repay them... I decided to become the best person I can be..! Being gloomy won't help me in this goal."

She looked in Freminet's eyes, with a determination stares. It was hard for him to be removed from her gazes.

"So yes, Freminet ! You are also amazing on your own way ! Please believe in you, at least for those you wish to protect !

You also have people you deeply care, right ?"

"Y..yes..."

Collei was silent, it looks like she wished him to continue.

Freminet took Pers in his hands stared his blue eyes.

"When I was young, I fantasized of.. just being emotionless. But, the more I grew up, the more I discovered I was hypersensitive.. it is one of my big weakness."

He did a pause, looking at Pers, deep in his thought.

"The orphenage is my home, and every children was considered like my family but... it felt more like we are just gears to make a big machine functionning. I didn't mind it, at least, I was useful. Everytime I felt lonely, I only have Pers with me."

He wanted to cry. The number of time "Father" scolded him, but he couldn't cry because "Father" hate those who cry.

Collei, was still listening, with an empathic look, as she understood what he was feeling.

"But...! I met Lyney and Lynette and.. even if they were inseparable, Lyney always called me little brother.. Lynette always console me ! In this big family, Lyney and Lynette are my genuine companions, and I can claim it ! And now I also met traveler, and Paimon.. ! I-..."

Ah, this is bad, he wanted to cry so much.

Collei encouraging him, tears in her eyes.

Freminet would usually ran away and go deep underwater, in his safe place, to cry all his heart.. only Romaritime flowers as witness.

But, he bursted to tear, couldn't keep all this feeling for himself anymore.

"I DEEPLY LOVE THEM..!"

Collei smiling, while a tear falling on her cheek

"..yes !"

They both usually alone when they started to feel overwhelmed. But this time, flowers, clouds, and them together were their companions.

////

AFTER A WHILE THEY STOP SOBBING

they are both pretty embarassed but they laughed

This is the first time they both cry with someone else, and.. that's a weird feeling !

#talk #idk what to tag huh #fremillei #I JUST READ FREMINET'S BACKSTORY AND MY BRAIN START TO BRAINROT #haha i would be surprised if someone really read all of this 🫣🫣#but gosh... as someone who also suffered from depression but is now healed (in some way)#they are both super important for me 😭#freminet needs to know the warm of friendship so he could accept to have therapy #two kids being sad but one is doing their best to heal and the other one is one his way to accept healing #tw : self depreciation

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eurychphanpelcael · 21 days

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不可能性という名の鉄鎖に縛られた状態で日常を生きること。 …これ以上の苦行もあるまい。

To live everyday life in a state of being bound by iron chains in the name of impossibility. … Nothing could be more mortification.

#microsoft desighner #image creator #dall e3 #ai art #ai generated #aphorism #pessimism #nihilism #absurdism #cynicism #pessimistic #pessimist #pessimistic poor writing #厭世主義的駄文

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yanderes-galore · 10 months

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Can I get a Platonic Yandere! Hank Anderson (D:BH) with Rookie! Gender-Neutral! Reader? They’re a interesting little shit with shitty puns, but he doesn’t rlly like the fact that they’re constantly getting reckless out there in the field. Besides, they’re probably one of very few who can keep Gavin in line.

Sure! I'd love to write for Hank :) I apologize if something is off, I tried to make him as in character as I could!

Yandere! Platonic! Hank Anderson with Rookie! Darling

(Reckless! Jokester! Darling)

Pairing: Platonic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Hank is kinda like a father to you, Overprotective behavior, Mentioned violence/threats, Manipulation, Suicidal thoughts mention (Canon to Hank in the game), Swearing, Murder/Killing.

I have a feeling Hank is going to start off annoyed with you due to how you act.

Not only are you a rookie and new to how this whole police force thing works in the wild...

You also have a personality that's a bit hard to get used to upon your first meeting.

Hank is relatively serious and gruff, he doesn't tolerate people not doing their job too much (just means more work).

There's a good chance it'll take time for him to get used to you.

First there's the jokes you throw around at the station.

Hank feels they are a bit poor taste and annoying at first.

You try to make them around him and he tries his best to tolerate them.

He gets it, you're young and new, but get with the program.

Although, Hank prefers your humor compared to you being an emotionless drone.

In fact your humor may just grow on him the longer he knows you.

Hank will take time to fully accept you, just like how he was with Connor.

You'd also soon become one of the reasons he hasn't wanted to end it all over time.

Hank would take a fatherly role towards a rookie platonic obsession.

He's lost his son a long time ago and part of him wants to take care of you like the child he lost.

His attachment starts to grow when he sees you keep Gavin in line at times in the station.

When Gavin gets out of hand you jump at the chance to shut him down.

Hank respects that, he's an annoying prick at times.

Another way you can grow close is if you work under him.

After all, you need experience one way or another, right?

I can see Hank being very fatherly towards you over time regardless on how he meets his platonic obsession.

He doesn't notice it half the time, it just happens on his own.

He may find the fact you're a rookie annoying, but your humor sometimes even makes him laugh.

His biggest issue with you is your reckless behavior, however.

Not only is being a rookie reckless enough, somehow you're even more reckless than that?

It often requires Hank to keep an eye on you in case a suspect you're searching for is armed.

I can see Hank killing to keep his darling safe.

Since he is like a father to you he doesn't kill out of jealousy.

He fears he'll lose you like his son and kills if it means you're safe.

Hank sticks by you on chases and investigations.

If an android or human makes a move to harm you, Hank shoots them fast.

Blood could spill over his clothes and he doesn't care.

Hell, the suspect/threat could've been needed for an investigation, but he just cares that you weren't hurt.

Hank would scold you and your reckless behavior a lot at times.

It sounds mean-spirited yet it actually means he cares for you a lot.

It would take time although Hank could be affectionate.

As just a rookie he may be more casual, an arm around the shoulders or a pat on the back for example.

If he sees you more like the child he never had, you may even get a hug.

Hugs with Hank usually happen when his mental state... isn't in the best place.

You have to remember that Hank has a self destructive past.

He's used to drowning himself in alcohol and being rather pessimistic.

His fatherly role towards you (and Connor) keeps him going.

Hank isn't usually very affectionate unless he's vulnerable.

So when he's like that you can see him show some of his obsession.

Honestly your jokes go from relieving to comforting.

They're so uniquely you.

As with most platonic yanderes his most destructive trait is his overprotective behavior.

His trigger finger towards suspects around you costs you cases at times.

Hank isn't brutal with those he kills, it's not in his character.

He will make it quick and over with, maybe with a few more shots to be sure.

You may say it's overkill... but he's doing it to relieve his stress.

It actually feels a little good to do, too... all for you.

He isn't actually that bad though he can manipulate you due to his experience and rank.

Hank could easily control what you do due to the job.

I feel platonic yandere Hank would sort of "adopt" rookie darling in this situation.

You may not know it but he begins to see you more like his kid than just a rookie.

He can't imagine his life without you.

If anyone tried to take you away from him, two things could happen.

He snaps, hunts you down, and takes you back gun in hand.

... or he goes into a deep depression and things just get worse.

You become the person holding Hank together.

Even if you want to quit your job, Hank is around to look after you.

Even if you want to separate from Hank, you feel guilty due to his self destructive behavior

Hank has as much control over you as you do him (emotionally).

Hank's no longer just your superior...

He'll show you he can be much more for you, even if he has to bend some rules and paint some walls in blood to keep you both happy.

"Come on, Rookie. They were going to hurt you! I had to shoot them, it's what you do on the job. You have to make a move before they do...."

#yandere detroit become human #yandere dbh hank #yandere hank anderson #platonic yandere

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cl00udyyanan · 1 year

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HII! could i req a cyno x reader, he gets jealous or somth? 🙁 idek i just want cyno.,😭😭😭🙁🙁🙁🙁😭‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️

i don't know much about cyno so pls forgive if this is ooc

sickening gaze

synopsis: tighnari has all of your attention while you help him, and cyno is feeling some type of way

warning: jealousy, slight possesion maybe, cyno being rude abt tigharni, tighnari lowkey hitting on your

characters: cyno x reader, tigharni

notes: cyno is so petty in this like hello,, i hope this came out okay i enjoyed writing this. it was either tigharni or alhathaim but, i didn't feel like keeping up with writing two pessimistic characters. tighnari kinda out of place tho im on cyno’s side

IM SORRY THIS IS BAD

•┈୨♡୧┈•

with eyes trained onto you like a hawk, the general mahamatra was shooting daggars from his irises, cursing both you and tighnari. cyno was leant against a tall tree, bark poking into his back, arms crossed and biting his lip. he was hiding behind the lush greenery wanting nothing more than to leave this damn forest and just take you home; to have you all alone with you only focused on him. tighnari was hunched over on the ground, an arm loosely splayed on your back with his other holding a small roll of bandages. whilst walking with your boyfriend, you had ran into tighnari with a little bunny who was bleeding so you had offered to help. you took the bandaids from him and rolled it around the white furred creature, he cooed at the animal softly as you did so.

"who knew you were so sweet with such creatures?" tighnari spoke as he pet the bunny, trying to get it to relax. his curious gaze came to face you. you let out a small chuckle.

"oh... you know, i had a couple bunnies growing up so i guess i know some things." you looked up to him, wide eyed, "its kinda weird how often you come across injured bunnies."

"is that so? well no wonder, you’re as cute as this one here..." his hand went from the small bunny to your chin, lifting your face towards him with a whisk of his finger.

cyno could kill him with no remorse, the way tighnari was touching you so comforting should be illegal. how could he be so okay with doing such a thing in front of him?

this was supposed to be a nice walk in the forest with just you and him, he was finally mustering the courage to hold your hand and here you were cuddle and google eyed with this dope. of course cyno didn't say anything, as you were helping a poor bunny and he didn't want to seem possessive. yet when his own friend touched you so tenderly he had an urge to pull out his pole arm and smack his fox friend on the head with it.

you patched the creature up, and tighnari held him in his arms like a small baby. he heard a grunt that he had looked up over to the white hair man sulking over by a long tree. cyno's brown cheeks were a dark shade and his red eyes were staring down at the grass. his foot grazing the ground back and forth idley. the archer turned to you, watching you dust the loose grass and sand off of your knees before he spoke,

"whats wrong with him?" he asked quietly. you looked up, head waving back and forth before you landed on your boyfriend who imitated that of a child casted away in the corner. you shrugged and tapped tigharni on the shoulder, telling him you'd be back.

cyno saw your shadow approaching him from the grass, he kept his eyes down, refusing to look you in the face. his breathing became irregular and his stomach felt like it was swirling up a concoction. you stood infront of him, a mischevious smile on you face before you lent down to get in his point of view.

"cyno?" you quipped, waving your hand in his face, he snapped his head away, pointing to the other direction. oh, so he wants to catch an attitude. "fine, i'll just spend the rest of my walk with tighnari." you whirled away, not letting his petty feelings bother you, but before your fore foot could even land to the ground, the snow haired boy grabbed your wrist and pulled you to him, "no." he said softly, his ruby eyes peering softly at yours.

he held you for a while, not saying anything. slightly embarassed, you turned back around to find your friend, seeing he got the picture and had distanced himself away, playing with the bunny. cyno grabbed your chin and pulled it to him, "why do you keeping seeking him, focus on me." you laughed at him, was he getting all this worked up over tighnari, really?

"sweetie, calm down okay? it snothing like that i swear, he's your friend don't be like that. you haven't even said hi to him this whole time."

"he doesn't deserve it." he muttured as he got from the tree with you hand in his, slightly tugging it like he’s trying to get you to start walking in the other direction. you let him take you, considering your work with tighnari was done with, though you felt bad to leave him with no parting words.

cyno had taken you deep into the forest, before he stopped suddenly. he leaned into your face, eyes pondering yours. he pulled your hand to rest on his shoulder as he wrapped his hand around your waist, bringing you in by the middle of your back, kissing your plush cheeks.

“whats wrong with you?”

“..you smell like him.” he pouted, hands prancing along your jawline, as he continued to smother you with his lips

“you’re so weird.”

“im weird? i thought i was cyno.”

you bit your lips, holding back a chuckle because that joke was not funny at all. yet you fell a victim to him when his gentle eyes looked at you so lovingly. even the worst of his jokes could get you to crack this way. he softly placed his lips on yours, taking in your sweet scent. he looked into your eyes softly, his cheeks still flushed.

“...you love me?” he muttured.

“of course i do...” nuzzling into his chest, taking in his warm scent of sand, wood and musk. strong built arms carressing your lower back, pulling you into him ever so tight, like if he let you go, you’d slip away.

“good” he pecked your forehead, resting his chin upon the crown of your head. you relished in this sweet moment in his arms, knowing that all though he can be a bit rash, he only loves you so.

little did you know he was wide eye staring at tighnari from a mile way, the two of them swearing eachother out with only eyes alone. how sweet.

#genshin impact #genshin fluff #genshin impact headcanons #genshin headcanons #genshin impact scenarios #genshin impact fluff #genshin scenarios #genshin x reader #cyno imagines #cynonari #cyno scenarios #cyno x reader #genshin cyno #cyno x y/n #cyno fluff #cyno x you

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lorelite333 · 3 months

Text

thank you to @sclairereject for the inspiration for the post, because i never have anything to post about half the time. however as someone who does do tarot (i'm spiritual), i wanna put my own twist to this. (ppl have their own interpretations, but the cards still have definitions)

Redacted Boys (includes Alexis) Major Arcana Tarot Cards:

I'd also like to say that these are just my takes, and things that I've noticed and felt. I don't have everyone on here, as I got tired writing this halfway through, so I don't have everyone on here.

SHAW PACK:

David Shaw is the Magician, specifically because he was trying to find his power and voice as leader, in which he did.

Milo Greer is the Chariot, because of sense of direction and will power. He tries his best to do what's right, even if it hurts him in the process.

Asher Talbot is the Strength card, due to his overcoming self-doubt, his compassion, and his bravery in situations. In reverse, this card represents self-doubt, lack of confidence, and vulnerability.

SOLAIRE CLAN

Vincent is the Lovers card, standing by his personality alone, resembling unity, balance, partnerships, and choices.

Sam is the Justice card, associated with fairness, truth, balance, and legal matters. I feel like Sam genuinely cares about what's right, and wants to help no matter what, even if he says he wants to stay out of things. He has this sense to try to make things right, even if things may get rocky. He's a healer by heart, and tries his best to do what's best for everyone in a situation.

William is the Hierophant, it is associated with education, knowledge, traditions, and institutions. I dont really have a reason for this one other than vibes.

Alexis the Judgement card, due to her past actions as well as her personality. This card represents reflection, rebirth, transition, and decision-making. In reverse, this card represents self-doubt, poor choices, stubbornness, blame, and confusion.

Porter is the Tower card. It represents trauma, destruction, unexpected change, revelation, chaos, awakening, and warning. We know that Porter is in fact "The Blade" of the Solaire Clan, and we know that he somewhat regrets it in some way, as well as him having trauma from this and his maker.

DAMN SQUAD

Gavin is The World, as it symbolizes success, fulfilment, and an end of a cycle. I feel like this represents him due to his change with the Freelancer, him being able to open up and enjoy his life with them and his friends. Gavin never really considered Aria his home, but more so just a place he lived at. In his SBW, he talks about how Dhalia has become his home, as Freelancer and the DAMN squad had helped him change his view on it (as well as change him).

Damien is the Sun, mostly in reverse, this academic over-achiever has a little bit of an ego. He's also quite pessimistic and has unrealistic expectations that were set on him by other people. However, the Sun is also associated with positivity, happiness, freedom and vitality. Which I think Damien has learned throughout his years of being friends with the Freelancer, that it's okay to take a break sometimes and just have fun.

Huxley is the Star, as he tries to maintain his happy and positive self for everyone else, turning to inspire others and give them hope with their problems. However Huxley also experiences negativity, hopelessness, failure. I think Huxley somewhat feels like the things in life get too repetitive, and he sometimes loses interest in certain things or just becomes bored with them from a tedious routine.

And finally Lasko, is the Fool, mostly from vibes, however The Fool is an air element card, which represents new beginnings, a leap of faith, and loyalty. Lasko sees the DAMN squad as family, in which he's very loyal to. I feel like during his time at DAMN, he's experienced time after time a new beginning, from Damien and him becoming friends to him and Coworker having a relationship.

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asimmutableasgravity · 11 months

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paper rings part 2!!!(teacher!spiderdads)

oh my god. hi. this fic has pushed me to 100 followers (after 6 years on tumblr 😭😭) and is my most liked post ever. OHMYGOD

THANK YOU SO MUCH THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ALL THE LOVE AND SUPPORT FOR MY SPIDERDADS ENDEAVOURS AND SHGSDFHKGHAKGFHA IM SO GRATEFUL

yes i will be writing the teacher one!! it'll be multi-chapter lelelel but the first chapter shld be out by this week!! pls stick with me *pray hand emoji*

alright so. the first 500 words of the chapter for u guys. bc i love u

thank u all sm

Brooklyn Visions Academy is a good school.

It pays well, there’s a clear path to promotion for him and it’s close enough to his house that he won’t be late when Gabriella forgets her water bottle for school.

Their gyms are nice too. There's air-conditioning when they do assemblies, and the floors aren't horrendously squeaky. Miguel waits by the side for the principal to finish his announcements and introduce all the new teachers. There are at least seven of them here and pessimistically, he wonders how many of them will make it through the year.

He wears the blue polo (Read: The one Gabriel hated the least) and he tries to go through what he’s going to do today. After this assembly is his first class. Ask them for their names, go through expectations and start work properly. He’s here to do his job and to do it well.

“Hi,” The guy beside him speaks. He has brown eyes and brown hair, and he looks like he should be tall, but Miguel has to angle his head down to look at him. He’s wearing an ironed maroon shirt. He smells like hot chocolate. “I’m Peter Parker, you’re one of the new guys too, right?”

Miguel nods. He has to pick up Gabriella today because her piano lesson got pushed to the weekend. So, he has to make sure that he brings home any materials he wants to look over for the next lesson. Then, he’ll probably pick up pizza, the four-cheese one for Gabriella and a small meat lovers fo him.

“Are you the other Humanities guy? I teach Literature, so it’s nice to know someone, I guess.” Peter Parker has a face that looks like it should always be smiling. There’s a strand of hair falling onto his forehead. Miguel doesn’t think he would care. “I mean, I hope you are, as long as you don’t teach Economics, 'cause only blood-suckers would teach something that bad.”

Peter Parker apparently doesn’t know how to shut up.

"I teach Economics."

The principal gestures for them to get on the stage, and Miguel walks past the shell-shocked Peter Parker. Peter quickly follows, and as the Principal introduces them, he leans in to whisper.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know you, uh, sorry." Eloquent, for a literature teacher. Miguel fears for the poor literary geniuses who have to be taught by Peter.

Miguel's name is read out on the screen, and Peter turns around to look at the projection. "So, Miguel, sorry about that, let's start over, get this right."

The bell rings and the teachers get off the stage, loafers and heels clicking on the veneered wood. Miguel could just walk out of the hall right now and get to his first class, but a tap on his shoulder stops him.

"I'm Peter Benjamin Parker," He introduces again, a hand outstretched. "I love every subject ever and I am excited to work with you." He lets out a breath after like this was an effort to say.

Miguel shakes his hand. "I'm Miguel." The sun is streaming into the high windows, and the room is being painted in bright yellows. "I have to go, can't risk getting hit by the sunlight."

Confusion quickly gives way to joy on Peter's face, and Miguel lets himself stand still for an extra second to see Peter's smile before he stalks off.

#snippet #can i start tagging this as paper rings #uhhh #not yet .#atsv #itsv #across the spiderverse #into the spiderverse #spiderdads #spiderbite #petermiguel #peter b parker #miguel o hara #spiderman 2099 #spiderman #spiderman fic #teacher!spiderdads

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