#I really do have ideas for a whole world that’s been in the back of my mind for a while

[oneofstarkskids]

girl back home

pairings: bucky barnes x reader

word count: 1822 (new record?? 🤭)

genre: a lil bit of everything, but mostly fluff. you know.

warnings: MAJOR SPOILERS FOR CAPTAIN AMERICA: BRAVE NEW WORLD ‼️

It was already February, and you were long overdue for some sunshine. The snow is always beautiful, especially with twinkling lights reflecting off of it. But those lights are gone now, and all you're left with is this chill to your bones.

You cling tightly to Bucky's arm, watching your steps carefully. "You okay?" He asks with a pink nose.

You can't speak without your jaw shaking violently, so you simply nod.

"I told ya' you should've brought gloves," he says with a know-it-all essence. The low temperatures must've been slowly freezing your brain cells because you didn't even make a snide remark.

The two of you finally reach your apartment building and make your way up to your floor. As soon as you're in the door, he takes your coat for you. "And you wanted ice cream," he snickers before hanging the coats and starting on a pot of coffee.

"I'll admit, I've had better ideas," you say before hurrying over to the messy pile of blankets on the couch, desperate for warmth.

After a few moments behind the counter, he walks over carrying your favorite mug. The one with the little yellow duck on it.

"Here ya' go, doll."

You give him a grateful peck on the cheek and grab the mug, careful not to burn yourself.

He moves to scooch in close to you, but his phone rings right on que. He sighs before pulling it out of his back pocket, "Hello?"

There's a pause and Bucky's face falls. "Not really a good time," he says with annoyance.

After a much longer pause, he nods as if the person on the other end can see him. "Alright, I'll be there."

He takes the phone away from his ear and hangs up. You give him that look.

"They're calling me into Washington. They want to have another meeting about the whole congress thing." Bucky trails off.

You nod, "Well, when do you leave?"

"Tonight."

The word hangs in the air for a moment as both of you contemplate the next move.

"And when are you supposed to be back?" You asked.

Bucky gave you an apologetic smile, "Valentine's Day."

You tried not to overreact. This was his job. It was important to him, and you wanted to be supportive. Besides, it wasn't like Valentine's Day was any more special than the other days when you got to spend your entire life with the man you loved.

"That's okay! We can work with that, we'll just celebrate later that night. Dinner, maybe?" You tried to be optimistic.

Bucky's demeanor changed, "You know, that's what I love about you?" He set his mug down on the coffee table and leaned over you.

"Oh, really?" You asked with the biggest grin.

"Mhm," he placed a soft kiss on your jawline.

You bit your lip to keep from grinning, "What else do you love about me?"

And Bucky did leave that night, with a dazed look and smirk on his lips. If that was how you said goodbye, he couldn't wait to see how you welcomed him back.

He kept in touch with you the entire time he was in Washington. Phone calls, FaceTime, endless texting. It was only for a couple days, but he never wanted to go a minute without hearing your voice.

But the plane ride there. It was hell. Not being able to see your eyes light up. Not being able to kiss those perfect lips. The guilt of leaving you behind began to weigh him down. Another fight he couldn't avoid.

The only moment he got a break from his self loathing was when he visited Sam. "Hey, buddy." The two patted each other on the backs.

"Got a knack for getting yourself in trouble don't you, Sam?" Bucky teased.

Sam raised an eyebrow, "If I recall, a lot of the trouble I've gotten into has been on your behalf."

Bucky laughed and nodded his head as if to say "touché".

"How's the girl," Sam asks, his smile reflecting his fondness for you.

Your beautiful boy just grins from ear to ear, "She's great. She's always great."

"Would you look at that," Sam says. "The man who never smiles just can't seem to stop."

Bucky shakes his head, still the flicker of a smile on his face, "She makes me...a better man."

Sam looks down at the ground. Grappling with his thoughts.

Bucky notices and turns to him.

"None of this," he gestures to Joaquin in the hospital bed, struggling to maintain stability, "is your fault."

"I don't know, Buck. I'm not cut out for this," Sam said. It wasn't something Bucky hadn't heard before. He knew his friend had always dealt with feeling unworthy of Steve's title.

"This shield was made for you, just as much as it was made for Steve. He wouldn't have given it to you if he didn't believe that himself," Bucky reassured him.

Sam let it sink in for a minute before cocking his head towards Bucky, "Damn. We're doing pep talks now?"

Bucky let out a laugh that was partially a scoff. He couldn't catch a break. "I meant it, Samuel. This was my last day here, and I had to make sure you knew that before I left."

Sam nodded, "Thank you, Bucky."

"I love you, Buddy." The blue eyed man said back.

"Now, I've got a plane to catch and a girl back home to surprise," He said with a skip to his step.

Sam watched him leave before muttering under his breath, "Damn soldier's gone soft."

The airport was packed with people. Long lines wrapped through the hallways. Bucky tried to push his way through. Tried to get an answer.

"What's going on?"

A stranger turned around, "They're delaying all the flights. Something about a security issue nearby."

Bucky found a group of people crowded around a television and squeezed in to get a better view. "President Ross reportedly transformed into what people are already calling 'Red Hulk' after massive White House meltdown." Footage flashed across the screen of what was indeed a cherry tomato colored Hulk surrounded by a burning white house.

The growl that erupted from the beast vibrated the speakers. Bucky's shoulders dropped in disappointment as he picked up the phone to call you.

You answered almost instantly, "Buck?" Your voice was weak with worry and it sounded like you were already expecting bad news.

"The flights are delayed, doll. Turn on the news," Bucky said.

"I've seen it," You replied softly.

"I don't know how long-" Bucky started but you cut him off. "Hey, don't worry about that. Just, get home safely. Please."

Bucky swallowed, "I will."

"I love you, James."

"I-" The line went dead. He quickly checked the phone to see what had happened. NO SERVICE.

Bucky was desperate to find a way back to you.

Meanwhile, Sam was getting his ass kicked by a giant blood clot. "Ross, listen to me. You know this place. You used to go here all the time with, Betty."

The creature that was once the president growled in his face.

"Alright, that didn't work."

Sam dove behind a car, narrowly avoiding another blow from the hell hulk. "You don't want to talk it out. Fine by me," Sam rolled away from the car just as the hulk smashed the gas tank.

The explosive vehicle flew towards the now Captain America, and with his improved vibranium wings from the Wakandan's he was able to slice the car in half.

His victory was short lived as the hulk grabbed him by the wing and ripped it off. Sam fell to his knees, feeling like he'd lost the war. At that moment, a spray of bullets bounced off of the angry monster's back. It turned around, focusing it's deep red eyes on the all too familiar Winter Soldier.

Sam was now an afterthought as the Red Hulk raced towards Bucky. The soldiers vibranium fist made a loud clank as it collided with the much larger one.

The high pitched whip of metal rang through the air and Sam's shield dug into the President's back. Bucky smiled like a proud father.

Together, Sam and Bucky were able to keep the hulk away from civilians and wear him out until backup arrived. But it was the memory of his daughter and the drive to be a better man that transformed his outer appearance as well.

Bucky was slouched against a police car as paramedics carried the President away. "What happened to the girl back home thing?" Sam walked over to him.

"Couldn't catch my flight. Besides, I figured you needed me more." Bucky said.

"Stop tryna butter me up," Sam shook his head. "I'll get you on a private jet, but you owe me."

Bucky extended his fist, starting off their handshake. "Take care, pal."

Sam finished it off, "Same time next week?"

You were curled up on the couch, exactly where Bucky had left you. It was Valentine's Day, and your husband was off to God knows where probably risking his life.

And the only thing you could do about it was sit here and wait. With a box of chocolates. And a few Ryan Gosling movies.

Then, you heard the rattling of a key in the door. It was so unexpected that you almost considered it had just been people that came to take you away.

Bucky pushed the door open, dropping his heavy duffel bags and extending his arms to you. You quickly jumped up, chocolates flying, and ran over to him.

The contrast between being out in the cold and now being in your warm embrace was a shock to Bucky's system.

He smelled like ash and sweat, but underneath that he smelled like him.

"I thought-" Your eyes involuntarily began to tear up.

He cupped your face in his hands and looked into your eyes with an intensity that made you blush, "I couldn't leave my best girl alone on Valentine's Day."

Your heart skipped a few beats and your face was permanently carved into a smile.

"Oh, almost forgot." He reaches into his pocket.

When he held out the palm of his hand, a silver chain with the letter B dangling from the end of it replaced the empty space.

"Bucky," you said, wiping away more tears to no avail. It was so much more than jewelry to you. It was proof that time after time, Bucky would find a way. That you were his priority and that would never change.

"It's beautiful."

He unclasped the necklace before gently turning you around to put it on you. "For the most beautiful girl," he said when he was done.

You turned around and kissed him, combing your hands through his hair. He looked into your eyes, feeling overwhelmed with joy.

"I've got something for you too," you smirked.

"You do?" He asked knowingly, kicking the door closed behind him.

"Mhm," you pulled him closer by his shirt. You were going to do more than just tell him how much you missed him.

[mejaemin]

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖♡︎˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖♡︎˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ˖₊˚♡˚

valentine boy

˚ʚ jeong jaehyun ɞ˚

final day of my valentine’s day countdown!

wc ♡ 1.9k

summary ♡ it may be jaehyun’s birthday, but he still likes to celebrate you, and does so in the form of four love letters.

warnings ♡ suggestive, fluff, SO MUCH LOVE IT’S DISGUSTING, jae is SUCH a sap and SUCH a romantic in this, my heart hurts

lia's note ♡ happy birthday to my love, my light. i miss jaehyun so much, and he’s really so special to me. i couldn’t help but pour my heart into this, and i wouldn’t have it any other way

playlist 🎧 completely - jaehyun, best part - daniel caesar ft. h.e.r. , give you the world - steve lacy, sunny days - wave to earth

congrats to those who guessed jaehyun for day nine! @cigsaftersuh and @jae10velies are two very smart cookies 🌹🫶🏽

˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖♡︎˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖♡︎˖⁺‧₊˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖ ˖₊˚♡˚

when you roll over in bed, first thing in the morning, you reach your hand out for your boyfriend, only to be met with nothing. popping one eye open, the bed is empty, the bed made on his side. sighing, you sit up, waking yourself up to go find him, when you finally notice the envelope laying on his pillow.

letter one ♡˚₊‧⁺˖

‘good morning my sweet thing ♡ happy valentine’s day.. if i’m not back by the time you wake up and open this, i went to visit my parents for a little. we’ve got a long day ahead of us, but mom wanted to see me for a little since, her words, “your birthday comes first, yuno! come visit your mom before you spend the day with your girlfriend.” i would’ve brought you, but you looked so pretty and peaceful while sleeping, and it would’ve ruined my plan, so i left you home. on that note, i know you told me not to do anything for you today, but i can’t help it :( spoiling you is my favorite, and it’s how i want to spend mine our day, okay? now, once you’re ready to get up, there’s something waiting for you in the bathroom…’

the ending of the letter is quite ominous, but it leaves a smile on your face nonetheless. you tell him every year to let you do all the gift giving, fully ready to discard valentine’s day and put his day first, especially when the former was made as a way for companies to gain money. still, he insists on celebrating you at the same time.

getting up out of bed, you make your way to the bathroom to get ready. as soon as you walk in, there’s another envelope taped to the sink mirror. pulling it out of the way, you set it aside to get yourself ready. the whole time you’re washing your face, brushing your teeth, you have to stop yourself from smiling at the idea of what’s to come later on in the day. jaehyun’s always been a loverboy, to an almost poetic extent, and upon looking at the letter sitting next to you, you’re sure there’s more to come, and you can’t wait to read all the loving words he’ll say to you. once done, you take the letter and sit back down on the bed to read it.

letter two ♡˚₊‧⁺˖

‘now that you’re opening this letter, i’ll assume you’ve woken up then? good, because i’ll be back in the afternoon to start our day. i wish i could be there to get ready with you, watch you open your first gift, but since i can’t, why don’t you check the closet? i’ve picked something out for you that i know will look perfect on you. i can’t wait to see it on you, and confirm my prediction. i can envision it now, you’d look so beautiful in that dress, it’ll compliment you perfectly.. okay, i have to stop now, or i’ll have a problem. anyway, enjoy your outfit my love ♡‘

with a smile you go over to your shared closed excitedly, pulling the door open and flicking the light on to reveal a beautiful dress in your favorite color right at the front of your clothing rack. pulling it off the hanger you immediately get dressed in it, stepping back to look at it on in the mirror. it’s fits perfectly, complimenting your body shape in all the best ways. when you look back in the closet for shoes to pair with it, there’s another envelope on the floor that you must’ve missed.

letter three ♡˚₊‧⁺˖

‘you’re getting dressed now, aren’t you? i hope you like the outfit. if not, don’t worry, we can get something else when we go out, okay? don’t stress. now, i’ll be wrapping up with mom pretty soon, so why don’t you finish your routine, okay? do yourself up however you like, in whatever way makes you feel prettiest. i’ll love it regardless. when you’re done, there’s something out in the kitchen, okay? i love you so much, baby. enjoy.’

with a soft giggle, you sit down at your vanity and start putting yourself together. even in the letter, jaehyun always reminds you of how much he loves you, in every form that you can take. he always uses the gentlest and most loving language he can, holding your heart with the most care. his love is so strong that when you fix your hair and do your makeup, you don’t feel a need to try too hard, doing the bare minimum, and thanks to him, you feel good about yourself just like that.

with the final touches of your appearance done, you grab your phone off the charger and check it for the first time today before you do anything. without fail, jaehyun’s texted you a string of good morning messages and words of love. you of course send some in return, thanking him for the letters and lightly teasing him for being a sap. you share a laugh before you shut the device off, making your way to the kitchen where your jaw drops.

there’s an entire display on the kitchen counter, rose petals scattered over the granite with a full bouquet in the middle, a bundle of prada gift bags sitting next to it. there’s a teddy bear as well, and one final letter with a card propped open next to it, reading ‘will you be my valentine?’ with the most perfect penmanship. you snap a photo, sending it to him with your reply, an obvious yes, before opening the last letter.

letter four ♡˚₊‧⁺˖

‘again, happy valentine’s day my love! i hope you enjoy all the gifts i put out for you. i know what you’re thinking, by the way. you’re mad that i’m spending money on you when it’s my birthday, aren’t you? if i were to tell you i’m sorry, i’d be lying, and that’s just not something i can ever see myself doing to you. more than anything, today is a day of love, and i’d rather celebrate us than make it all about me. my birthday wish is to keep you by my side and love you forever, every inch of you, and it just so happens that the day of love is at the same time. now, may i tell you why i love you so deeply?

we’ve known each other forever, and i’ve seen you grow into a beautiful, beautiful woman, with a wonderful personality that can warm an entire room. your laugh is more beautiful than any song i’ll hear in my life, and your smile is so bright, blinding in a way that makes me never want to look away. i’d let my eyes burn to nothing if it means i can continue to see it. i love the way you carry yourself as well, so thoughtful and considerate to everyone around you. you have so much love and kindness in your heart, and i’m so lucky to be a recipient of it. i’ve learnt so much from you as well, and i’m so grateful for the person you’ve helped shape me into. you’re truly everything i’ve ever wanted and more. i’ll cherish every piece of you that you give me with my whole being, and i promise to never let it go. my love for you is unconditional, and i’ll trace every ridge, scar, or imperfection in your body with nothing but adoration because it’s all perfect in my eyes.

i’ll save the rest of my sentiments for when i can say it out loud, okay? save you some reading. for now, remember that i love you with everything i have. happy valentine’s day, my love, my sweet, my peach.

-your forever only, jaehyun ♡’

his words are so beautiful, and you have to get a paper towel to hold to the corners of your eyes to stop the tears from messing up your makeup. he’s always so shy about things like this, getting flushed in the cheeks and ears at even the most simple words of affirmation. you know he’s a romantic at heart, but it still blows your mind every time you see him take a pen to help convey how he feels. he always lets his true feelings out when he has pen and paper, and it makes you cry without fail every single time. he really knows how to touch your heart, his words so sweet and loving.

you’re busy unboxing everything, a pair of sunglasses and a new bag in your hands, still letting his love letter sink in. you’re so stuck in your own world that you don’t even notice that jaehyun returned until his arms wrap around your stomach, his chest pressing into your back. his lips press against your temple, then your nape, and your eyes flutter shut as your body leans into his.

“happy valentine’s day.” he speaks softly, spinning you around in your barstool so you’re facing him.

your arms reach around his neck, pulling him closer so you can leave a sweet kiss on his lips. “thank you, baby.” you give him another one, “and happy birthday to you.”

he thanks you, pulling you flush to his body. you stay there, encased in his strong arms for what could be forever, you don’t know nor do you care, because it’s warm, safe, and comfortable. his head rests on top of yours, one hand gliding up and down the side of your body, the other on the back of your head. he’ll kiss your crown a few times, soaking in your scent, before pulling away.

your hands are intertwined, resting in your lap. “now that we’ve celebrated us, can it be your turn now?” you smile up at him, and his face is full of love.

his cheeks turn rosy, and he nods. you’re immediately up and out of your seat, shuffling your way into your bedroom where you pull out a birthday themed gift bag and box, followed by a valentine’s day basket. he opens them, overjoyed to see a photo album with a collective of polaroids from the past year, along with a new vinyl for his collection. the basket has a bunch of candies and small trinkets, along with a stuffed animal of the animal you’ve always said represents you. his smile reaches his ears as he looks through all his gifts, and a billion kisses are left all over your face as a thank you.

even more happiness fills his eyes when you take his cake out of the fridge, lighting the silly cartoon candles and singing to him. when you finish, he’s very thoughtful as he blows the candles out. you share it together, small enough to have in one sitting before putting all your new items away to finally head out for the day. he continues to treat you the entire time you guys are out, buying nearly everything you touch and complimenting you for even the littlest things. he has so much love to give to you, and it’s not even because of the holiday, or his birthday. he conveyed it to you many times throughout his letters, that he’s constantly thankful for you and your presence in his life, regardless of the date or who’s being celebrated more. the love continues to show even when you go back home, wrapping up the day, when there’s yet another display on the bed that wasn’t there before, which he lays you down on and continues to give you all the love he has.

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perm taglist: @chenlezip @coquettejunnie

[sourco0kie]

https://www.tumblr.com/sourco0kie/775427187568525312/self-aware-au?source=share

Hey loved this and found it so interesting...and got an idea for a whole self aware au...possibly could be a series if you find it fun enough to write...already love what you did with this first writing and defiantly wanna see it in action and your take on this:

Self aware au...cowardly y/n. Just imagine a y/n who gets sucked into the game and is so nervous about the story because of the fights, rivalries, and etc...like they know the story of cookie run so they are TERRIFIED at first when they first enter the world...maybe nervous at first when the cookies become self aware but scared when actually in the world as themselves but a cookie form...just a powerless cookie!

Cue them getting dragged through story, thinking they are gonna die...but here is twist, especially because of this writing I really liked: the cookies adore them! So every time they think they are about to die or get caught in the crossfire? Nope, they are perfectly safe and loved! Can't wait to see all the hilarious senarios of y/n panicking and thinking 'this isn't gonna end well for me' only to be immediately proven wrong via y/n being protected, comforted, or whatever you want lol!

AAAA I LOVE THIS IDEA!

Ideas are exploding in my head!

Self Aware Au

W/cowardly!Reader

You don't know how but you have been sucked into the game. At first you just wanna relax on the couch then suddenly, poof, you're in the game.

The first to meet you was the team. They saved you from a couple of cake hounds and cake wolves. You introduce yourself to them and oh what a wrong move.

Gingerbrave was instantly all over you, fawning on about you and finally excited to meet you. Both Pure Vanilla Cookie and Wizard Cookie were questioning how you got here.

That aside, Gingerbrave insists on having you travel with them. At first you don't agree, saying you rather not, already knowing what will happen next with all the spoiler episodes you watched. Wizard Cookie agrees with you until Gingerbrave literally begged for you to come.

Geez just like how you begged for new cookies to come home in your gacha.

You gave in and went with their adventure, honestly all the time traveling you felt bad. Not having the skill to do.. anything. They would reassure you every time, "It's okay.. [Name] Cookie. Just getting to know you along the way was a gift."

Gift? Okay Pure Vanilla..

Finally all of you arrived at the place, Beast-Yeast. Being there somehow gives you the chills, the crawling feelings of being watched.

You all met Elder Faerie Cookie. Soon White Lily Cookie. You both introduce yourself, luckily (or unluckily which ever you wanna see it) she doesn't seem to recognize you from outside the screen.

It's all great, until you meet him. Oh how the presence just makes you wanna coward back and run. Hide away from everything. Not to mention you can't do anything. And he can do anything he wants.

"Oh. I see I have quite an audience here! I am SO terribly sorry to have kept you waiting!!"

You froze, you can't move even as your mind screams at you to run. It wasn't scary when you passed this episode.. why is it now? Why do you feel fear now? Is it because you couldn't do anything, like closing the game?

"But now... The wait is over!"

Move your body, run! Anything!

"Your favorite trickster is here!

The sharp stares of his eyes, lands directly at you. Your body shakes. You know what will happen! You know what's next! But why are you still afraid? You expected this long ago!..

Oh what some silly thoughts!

Gingerbrave put a stance between you and the beast. He seems as scared as you are but.. he's determined enough to protect you. They all did.

The faerie kingdom fell into deceit, playing lies and truth like a game for fun. Shadow Milk Cookie returns once in a while to tell the stories Elder Faerie Cookie told them. But different.

It goes like you expected so you wouldn't fall for his lies easily. In one of the plays he described you. The divine, watching over them, Oh they were saddened when the five original power holders fell and sealed away.

No you were not.

At the end you watched as the team defeated the trickster. After he tried to swoop you away from them.

You watched both Pure Vanilla Cookie and White Lily Cookie exchange. Now you don't know where to go. You're lost without a home or anything. But they, accept you into The team with open arms. You have no choice either way, as you follow them to the next adventure.

[goosewriting]

The Aftermath

summary: reader visits Joaquín at the hospital as he wakes up from surgery.

relationship: Joaquín Torres x gn!reader

warnings: established relationship, spoilers for captain america: brave new world, mention and description of injuries and medical procedures, mention of accident and explosions, brief mentions of PTSD from events in Infinity War/Endgame, self-doubts and guilt

word count: 2.2k

A/N: i started writing this the moment i came home from watching BNW. can't believe it took me this long to write for him,, he's been rotating in my mind ever since tfantws <3 we really need more fics for joaquín, he’s so blorbo coded like cmon!! 🥹🥹 if you have any recs pls send them my way!

[all masterlists] 🪶 [mcu masterlist] 🪶 [ao3]

(english is not my first language. constructive criticism and grammar corrections are very appreciated!)

• • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • •

Sitting by Joaquín’s hospital bed, you bring your hands to your face as you remember his accident on the Indian Ocean. You had watched the broadcast in horror, your heart in your throat as his figure fell from the sky into the open water. 

At that moment, you couldn’t help but remember the video from all those years ago, where you saw how Rhodey had fallen as well, like a rock, everyone watching, unable to do anything to stop him. Just like War Machine, Joaquín had turned uncontrollably on his descent, one of his wings ripped from the suit by the missile exploding right in his face.

You’ve been in the Avengers’ orbit since a little before the battle against Thanos on Wakanda, where you had also fought with everyone, but then got blipped. The transition back to society with a gap of 5 years had been very hard on you, and while you stayed in contact with everyone who remained, helping out whenever you could, you didn’t really have it in you to go back out to the battlefield. Even after all this time, you still have nightmares about the snap and the Battle for Earth. 

Bringing your hands back into your lap, you let out a trembling breath, clinging onto the constant soft beeping of the machinery to tether yourself to reality and not fall down a spiral of despair. Every time your eyes roam over Joaquín’s injuries, you close your eyes, pressing the base of your hands over them, then open them again. Your sight is momentarily sprinkled with dots, and as it clears, you hope for everything to have been a horrible nightmare. But once your view clears up, he’s still there. Unconscious. Hurt.

The surgery he’d been in last night had felt like it was never going to end. Still, you had stayed the whole time, and once he got out, you stayed at his side. 

It’s been several hours since Joaquín got wheeled into his room, the head medic saying he was still unconscious but stable. You shift in the armchair by the bed where you sit. One of the nurses brought you something to eat earlier since you refused to leave, the wrapper of your sandwich still in your hands as your eyes start feeling heavier and heavier, and you can’t find it in yourself to fight the welcome embrace of sleep, slowly spreading through your limbs. You’ve almost completely dozed off when you hear a groan, and immediately your grogginess dissipates. You straighten up in your seat, the wrapper falling to the floor as you scoot closer to the bed, tears stinging behind your eyes. How you still have tears left, you have no idea, given how much you’ve cried in the past hours, terrified of losing the love of your life. 

Joaquín blinks several times, scrunching his face, eyes trying to adapt to the light. He lifts his good arm, looking at the tubes attached to it, and his gaze roams the room and down his body, face contorting in pain lightly. Then his eyes land on you, and his face immediately softens.

“Hey, there,” he croaks out. 

“You’re awake,” you whisper, holding his hand in your trembling ones. “I was scared you wouldn’t.”

“Pfft, it’ll take more than a meagre explosion to defeat the Falcon,” he retorts with a pained smile.

Normally you’d laugh at his jokes, enjoying his silly side, but right now you have no humour left in you. Another wave of tears rolls down your cheeks, and his smile vanishes.

“Please don’t joke about that,” you plead, giving his hand a squeeze. “You were hit by a freaking missile. From a fighter jet. While up in the air between two armies about to start a war with each other.”

“Well, if you put it like that…” He sighs. 

There’s a moment of silence where you again study his bruised face, your gaze landing on the massive burn covering his whole shoulder, streaks of red raw skin visible on his jaw and throat. Your brows furrow in frustration.

“I should have been there,” you mumble, angry at yourself for letting this happen.

“What?” he asks, craning his neck to fully look at you.

“I should have gone with you,” you say, bringing your eyes to look up at him. “Then I could have helped and you wouldn’t have gotten hurt.”

Joaquín exhales through his nose in disbelief.

“We were in the air, and I went head to head with the missile even after Sam told me to back off,” he retorts, shaking his head. “There was nothing you could have done.”

His tone isn’t scolding; he’s telling the truth and you know it. Still, you can’t help but feel like the outcome could have been different, if you had just been better, braver. You try to choke back a sob, unsuccessful, and his hold tightens around your hand.

“Hey, hey. Look at me.” He speaks your name softly. “This isn’t on you. Please don’t cry.”

You grimace, biting the inside of your cheek.

“For a moment I thought you died, Joaquín. I was so scared,” you say with a shaky breath, bringing his hand to your face, and he cups your cheek. You place your hand over his, holding onto it and leaning into his touch like it was the last time you could hold him like this.

“I’m sorry I scared you.”

Your heart shatters at the thought that even after getting hurt, after getting blown up, he’s the one apologising to you. He’s about to add something when the door opens and a nurse comes in. You back off a bit and hastily wipe your face with the back of your sleeves as she does some check-ups, both on Joaquín and the machines, taking some notes on her clipboard. She then takes one of the tubes attached to his arm, and places a syringe at the other end.

“What’s that?” you ask, suspicious. She gives you a quick look with a raised brow, but when she sees the state you’re in, her face relaxes again.

“Painkillers and antibiotics. He’ll need both of them,” she explains.

It doesn’t take long for the fluids to reach Joaquín’s blood system, and he visibly relaxes against the pillows and closes his eyes.

“Oh, hell yeah. That’s the good stuff,” he sighs, and the nurse chuckles softly. You still can’t get yourself to let go of your worry. Once she’s done with everything, she leaves the way she came, exiting the room. As the door closes behind her, your eyes land on the wrapper on the floor, and you pick it up with a sniffle, crumpling it up further.

“Are you hungry? Thirsty? Can I get you anything?” you ask as you throw the trash into the bin from where you sit, to your surprise making the shot. He doesn't answer, eyes still closed.

“Joaquín?” you ask softly, not wanting to wake him in case he fell asleep again.

“Huh? Wha?” His eyes open and he turns to look at you, his face visibly relaxed now.

“You okay?” You take his hand again, and he gives you a squeeze.

“Hmm-mm,” he hums with a nod, blinking slowly as he tries to focus on your face. “I just think I’m… kinda high right now.”

That’s when you finally break, unable to hold back an endeared chuckle, shaking your head. Joaquín’s eyes are filled with warmth and then concern as they land on your face, brows furrowing as if he just noticed something. His hand comes up to wipe away the remaining streak of tears. He also playfully pinches your cheek for good measure, eliciting another smile of yours.

“That’s better,” he concludes, a smile spreading on his face as well. The smile that could light up any room he’s in, in your humble opinion. 

You prop your elbow onto the edge of the bed, head in your hands as you look at him, and he looks back at you with a silly grin. The beeps on the machine speed up a bit, and you look up at the screen, then back at him with a brow raised in amusement.

“Usually you can’t tell because I’m smooth as hell, but it’s true,” he notes, like a huge secret was just uncovered. “You still make my heart race.”

Heat prickles on your cheeks at his words and you avert your gaze with a snort. As long as your heart is still beating, you think, remembering that they had to resuscitate him after the accident, but you shake those thoughts away, preferring to focus on the fact that he’s still here, alive.

“I know that the moment you’re back on your feet, you’ll be out there again, suited up,” you start after a moment, shooting him a serious look. “So I won’t ask you to stop. But promise me to be more careful next time?”

“Pinky promise.” Joaquín lifts his hand, fingers curled except for his pinky, and you can’t help but chuckle as you mirror his gesture, curling your finger around his. He shakes your hand like that side to side for a bit, then drops it back down onto the bed. A strand of hair falls into his face as he leans back, and you brush it back, caressing over his bruised cheekbone gingerly. 

“When was the last time you slept?” he asks suddenly.

“Hmm.” You look at the timestamp on the muted TV in the corner, currently playing some movie or other. It’s only then that you realise you’ve been intermittently awake for almost two full days now. “Can’t really remember,” you lie.

“You need to rest. You look exhausted,” he remarks, gesturing to himself. “I’m taken care of.”

“No, I’m not leaving you,” you say, putting as much finality into your voice as you can in your state.

He says your name softly. You look away. He sighs.

“Well, if you insist on staying, then at least I can get pampered a bit, yeah?” he starts, and you narrow your eyes at him in feigned suspicion. He asks with a playful pout, “You know what would make me feel better?”

“Hmm?” 

Joaquín turns his head, offering you his cheek. You can’t help but laugh. 

“I thought you were high on painkillers already?”

“Even the best medicine holds nothing against your kisses.”

“Pfft, is that so.” Now it’s your heart’s turn to speed up. You two have been together for a while now, but he still makes you feel warm and fuzzy, and gives you butterflies in your stomach, when he isn’t on the brink of death, at least. “Well, in that case, I better get started on your dose.”

You lean forward, placing a kiss on his cheek, and he hums pleasedly. He doesn’t move, though, clearly waiting for more. You’re more than happy to oblige, placing kiss after kiss on his cheeks, his nose, his forehead, being especially careful around his injuries. Finally, you hold his chin to turn his face towards you, and kiss the corner of his mouth, then his lips. It's chaste but sweet, and he smiles into it. When you lean back, his eyes are filled with love, slightly unfocused because of the meds, a goofy grin on his face. As you hold his face, you consider saying something cheesy, hoping he won’t remember it. But before you can speak, there’s a knock at the door, and someone steps in. It’s Sam. He looks surprised to see you.  

“Damn, you’re still here?” he asks with concern, then turns to Joaquín. “How’re you feeling?”

“Splendid, really,” he replies, leaning into your hand still cupping his face.

“He got a decent shot of painkillers,” you explain, looking up at Sam with a tired smile. “He’s high as a kite.”

Sam chuckles, then looks at you worriedly. 

“You need to rest. Both of you.” He places a hand on your shoulder. “Go home, I’ll take it from here.”

You hesitate, looking between the two, and Joaquín nods, his eyes pleading for you to also take care of yourself. 

“I’m not going anywhere,” Joaquín says, taking your hand from his face and giving it a squeeze. “I’ll be here when you come back.”

“Right,” you sigh and rise to your feet with wobbly legs now that the exhaustion is finally kicking in full force, and Sam holds you up when your knees threaten to give in. 

“Whoa there. You need a nap, ASAP.” 

“Yeah, yeah I do,” you say with a sigh, steadying yourself as he lets you go, his hands still hovering over your arms for a moment in case he has to grab you again, but you manage to stand straight. You grab your jacket from the back of the chair, and turn to Joaquín. “I’ll come back this evening, okay? I’ll bring your favourite snacks too. Don’t tell the nurse, though.” You wink at him with a knowing smile.

“You’re the best.”

“No, you are.” You lean over him to kiss him goodbye, whispering ‘I love you’ against his lips, and pecking him once more for good measure. The machine’s beeps speed up again.

“Love you too. See you later.” Joaquín brings his hand up to caress over your cheek one last time, then you leave the room.

Sam is still standing there, hands in his pockets, looking down at his friend as the beeps slowly start decreasing back to normal.

“Very cute,” he remarks, unable to bite back a teasing smile. 

“Don’t even,” Joaquín says and rolls his eyes playfully, knowing perfectly well that Sam will never let him live that down.

○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○ ○

🐥 taglist: leave a comment for now to be tagged in future fics; i still have to add the MCU to my taglist form lol

[prettylynnpup]

The Roommate

"C'monnn... Why is it taking it this long to come home?" You wondered aloud to yourself. Your roommate usually gets home from work around 7, and you watch your shows and eat together around 7:30. It's now 7:45 and there's absolutely no sign of it.

"Is something wrong? Is it safe? God I hope nothing happened-"

You're cut off by a *knock* at the door, proceeded by the jingling of keys. It usually knocks when it gets home to let you know that it's there. Thank god, it's home!

"You're here! I was waiting so long Lynn, what kept you?" You hopped out of your seat at the couch and excited walked toward the door.

"Wait, you actually waited for me?" There's a bit of surprise in its voice. Why is Lynn surprised you waited for it? Of course you did! Routine is very important to you, and you would keep telling yourself that "routine" is the only reason you waited. It's embarrassing to have feelings for your roommate, after all.

"Uh, yeah. We normally have dinner at 7:30 and I was just starting to get worried... I m-mean, you know how important these routines are to me!" You looked at it with those doe eyes of yours. You really wanted to hammer home how upset you were about your routine being missed without warning.

"Okay, look, I know I was gone but I promise it was just to get gas. First I stopped at that place on Mangrove, but they were having issues with their card readers so I had to go all the way to Lowans Drive."

"Out to Lowans??? Was there really not another gas station closer?" It doesn't often happen that the gas stations aren't working around here, so you're extremely surprised to hear that Lynn had to go somewhere 20 minutes away from here just for gas.

"Yeah... Regardless of where I went or how long it took, I'm gonna make it up to you, okay?" Lynn promised. You suddenly realize that it's been holding a bag this whole time.

"Hey, uh, what's in that bag?"

Lynn taps your forehead. "Don't worry about it."

Worry about what? What were we talking about?

"What do you want for dinner, hon?" Lynn asks. You blush a little at the pet name, and struggle to bring your mind to the question at hand.

"Uh, what options do we have?" You'd rather know what you're working with so you can make an informed decision.

"Well, there's those leftover shrimp tacos, the rotisserie chicken, ramen, hot dogs, or we could run out somewhere together if you'd like," Lynn lists for you.

"Can we finish off those shrimp tacos? I'd rather fish not sit in our fridge for too long." You reminisce on the Tuna Salad incident... What a terrible day that was to have a working nose.

"Absolutely, do you wanna set up Jojo while I cook?" Lynn asks.

"Yeah, I can do that." You answer, setting off on your respective tasks.

-

You've both settled in for dinner and are eating while watching anime. It's a very comfortable silence shared between you and Lynn - you've done this hundreds of times before, after all.

"Hey, uh, I'd like to explain the real reason I was late."

You look over at it. The real reason?

"It wasn't to get gas?" You'd been so willing to just believe it, so it almost hurts a bit that it lied to you.

"It wasn't." Lynn pulls out the bag from earlier. Opening it and pulling out the contents, you see a collar, leash, and edibles.

"I was hoping that we could, maybe, try something tonight?" It looks at you so sweetly, but you can tell there's something nefarious going on under that look.

"T-try what?" You stammer back. Fuck, the implications of this have you flustered. What in the world would Lynn want to 'try' with you with those three items?

Lynn taps your forehead again. It gets a bit harder to think. H-how did it do that?

"Well, I was hoping to, maybe uh, have you as my pet tonight?" Lynn shakes the collar and edibles at you invitingly.

Has it been researching your fucking kinks? How did it know to get edibles *and* a collar and leash? You didn't know how it knew, but you were definitely turned on at the idea. Oh fuck you still haven't responded...

"Uhm. I-I uh... M-maybe, w-we could try that..." You're stuttering over your words so bad. It definitely knows how bad you want it. Fuck this is so embarrassing...

"Pet, I know how long you've wanted me for. We share a bed, so I see the dirty things you look up at night. And don't think I didn't notice you researching 'how to stop being into your roommate' a couple days back. I know how bad you fucking want this, so please just..."

She taps your forehead one more time. "Give in."

"Y-yes mommy. P-please let me be your pet mommy." The words spill out of your mouth before you even knew what you were saying. It was like your deepest desires were being pulled out of you by force... Not that you really minded.

"Good pet!~" Lynn locks the collar around your neck, then puts the leash on it. Almost instinctively, you've put yourself on all fours. Lynn looks into your eyes, and holds out the edibles toward you.

"Does puppy want a treat?~"

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[hotchnerwrites]

Valentine's with JJK Men

Pairing: JJK men x reader

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: SFW, Valentine's date, fluff, no use of (y/n)

A/N: Happy Valentine's! Total last-minute speedrun, working on ending my writing block ugh. Please ignore my grammar and any typos, I didn't have time to check asdfghjk,,, Enjoy!

My requests are open. Send me stuff! :)

Satoru Gojo

You had been worried, in all honesty. But you had decided to give Satoru the benefit of doubt. He’d come up with something. But then… 14th February rolled around and still nothing. So you sent out some feelers, in the form of subtle questions. 

Should I get my nails done? What do you think of this restaurant? 

You really didn’t need to. He had sent you a last minute text the day before like, “Hey, pick you up at 7 tomorrow. Wear the blue dress, it’s hot.” Because of course, he was too confident you’d say yes. Which you did. 

But the irritation melts away when you open the door and he’s standing there, all soft-smiles and heart-shaped sunglasses. He smothers you with compliments, and you wonder if your heart will flutter out your chest.

And Gojo never does things halfway. He’s the personification of the saying ‘Go big, or go home’, and Valentine’s Day is no exception. He had brought with him a small mountain of gifts— designer accessories, ridiculously overpriced chocolates (he’d probably end up eating the lot), and a bouquet so big he was nearly invisible behind it. 

Satoru had also taken the liberty to book an extravagant date at the most exclusive restaurant in town, complete with a candlelit dinner and a skyline view. Throughout the night he’s flirty and playful, feeding you bits of cake just to watch you roll your eyes at his antics, and pressing kisses along your knuckles like you’re some fairy princess. 

The night ends with him dramatically twirling you under the stars (he admitted to stealing this idea off Pinterest), probably to music only he can hear. And when you two get home, he’s snuggling up to you like a clingy cat, murmuring, "You know, I’d do this for you every day if you let me."

Suguru Geto

Suguru isn’t one for flashy displays; instead, he makes everything deeply personal. He asks you to be his Valentine a week in advance, phrasing it so softly that it feels like a promise rather than a question. 

On the day itself, he surprises you with a picnic by the river. You wonder how he managed to find such a perfect spot with a gorgeous view that was also free of other couples, but that’s just Geto. He had a talent in finding placed untouched by the chaos of the world.

The blanket is laid out perfectly, and the food? Home-made, down to the last detail—because he rarely cooks, but for you, he spent the whole morning perfecting your favorite dishes. He had even tried his hand at baking, and you couldn’t help but coo at the wonky cookies.

There’s a gentle sort of intimacy in the way he pours your tea, in the way he tucks stray hairs behind your ear, in the way his fingers brush against yours as he hands you a chocolate-dipped strawberry. Suguru even wore his hair loose, flowing around his face, a look you love. He usually keeps it tied back, but he knows you prefer it this way. It’s a small detail, but it makes him feel even more approachable, even more him.

He doesn’t rush anything—he just watches, taking in the way the sunset makes you glow. 

When the time feels right, he pulls out a small box, inside of which sits a necklace with a beautiful locket made of dried flowers. It’s both meaningful and expensive—something he chose carefully, something that reminds him of you.

A quiet smile tugs at his lips when he fastens it around your neck, fingers lingering for just a second longer than necessary. 

“Looks perfect on you,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your shoulder.

Later, when the sun is low in the sky and the world feels like it’s holding its breath, Suguru doesn’t rush you to move or leave. Instead, he sits next to you, his presence grounding and peaceful, just enjoying your company in the stillness of the evening. His hand finds yours in the quiet, and you can feel the solid affection between you both without needing to say anything. His love is gentle but all-encompassing, not a grand declaration but a steady flame that burns deeper than any rose or candlelit dinner could ever show. 

“I’m glad you’re here,” he murmurs quietly, as if this moment—this perfect, simple moment—is enough.

Kento Nanami

Nanami is a man who plans ahead. No last-minute reservations, no rushed gifts—everything is thoughtfully chosen weeks in advance because to him, love is not about grand gestures or fleeting moments; it’s about consistency, intention, and care. 

He formally asked you to be his Valentine at least a month ago, his voice steady but gentle when he said, “I’d like to take you somewhere nice. If you’re free, of course.” But there was a quiet hopefulness in his eyes, a softness in the way his fingers brushed against yours when he said it.

By the time Valentine’s Day arrives, he has already spoiled you in small ways leading up to it—fresh bouquets every week, tiny, thoughtful gifts left on your nightstand (a book he caught you eyeing, your favourite coffee blend, a handwritten note that simply said “Thinking of you.”). He never overdoes it, never makes a spectacle, but his love is constant, woven into every choice he makes.

The day itself starts with a spa appointment already booked for you, a quiet way of making sure you feel pampered. In the evening, he picks you up at your door, looking effortlessly elegant in his suit. Before you can say anything, he presents you with a stunning bouquet, bigger than any of the ones before, wrapped in understated, tasteful paper—because he notices the details you like, even when you think he doesn’t. 

He murmurs a simple, “You look beautiful,” before leading you to a sleek, intimate restaurant where he’s secured the perfect table—somewhere quiet, private, away from the noise of the world.

Dinner is perfectly paced—deliberate, unhurried. He watches you with those warm, focused eyes, listening intently to everything you say.

At some point, he slides a small box across the table—not a ring, not yet, but something deeply meaningful, something he saw and thought of you immediately. When you open it, his lips quirk up ever so slightly, pleased by the way your fingers linger over the delicate earrings inside. 

"I wanted you to have something special today," he says simply, but there’s an unspoken depth in those words—a quiet promise that this isn’t just Valentine’s, isn’t just a single day of romance. 

By the time the night ends, he drives you home with one hand on the wheel and the other resting lightly on your thigh, his touch warm and grounding.

“I hope today was enough.” And it’s almost laughable that he even thinks that, because everything he does—every carefully chosen detail, every quiet moment—is a testament to how deeply, truly, and wholly he loves you.

Toji Fushiguro

Toji is… not the Valentine’s type.

 He groans when he realizes the date, mutters something about it being a commercial scam, but still finds himself dragging his ass to the store last minute to grab some things you like.

He won’t admit it, but he actually tried— he arranged the flowers in an acceptable bouquet (you ignore the misshapen stems), downloaded your favourite movie on the TV, somehow made popcorn without burning anything, and picked up dinner from your favourite spot.

But for all his grumbling, he sat through the entire thing, sneaking glances at you instead of the screen. He spent the rest of his efforts pulling you as close to him as possible, pressing the occasional kiss against your neck. His hand finds your thigh, fingers tracing lazy patterns. 

“You owe me for this,” he mutters in your ear, but you know he doesn’t mean anything by it.

By the end of the night, he’s dozing off with his head in your lap, your fingers dragging through his hair slowly. And then so quietly that you almost miss it— “I guess it wasn’t that bad.”

Toji isn’t the best with romance, but he still showed up. He tried his best. And that means more to you than you’ll ever say.

Ryomen Sukuna

Sukuna does not care about Valentine’s Day. 

At all.

When you first bring it up, he barely looks up from his throne, giving you an unimpressed look before growling, "What the hell is a Valentine?" 

You have to practically beg him to celebrate, and even then, he makes zero effort—no chocolates, no flowers, nothing remotely romantic. If you expect candlelit dinners or heartfelt confessions, you’re delusional. The best you’ll get is an unimpressed stare and maybe, just maybe, a begrudging “I guess you look good today.”

And yet… later that night, when he sees you sulking about it, he lets out a dramatic sigh before dragging you into his lap, his fingers tilting your chin up.

"Tch. You really care about all that dumb human shit?" he mutters, but his voice is a little softer. 

Then, without warning, he kisses you, slow and deep, with a kind of intensity that makes your knees weak. When he pulls away, he smirks, satisfied by the dazed look in your eyes. 

"There. Happy now?" And as much as you hate to admit it, you kind of are.

Choso Kamo

Choso could probably make a career out of overthinking. 

He had no idea what to get you. He spent weeks figuring out what to do. Not one social media platform was helpful, and was back to square one. 

What if you don’t like his gift? What if he forgets something? What if it’s too tacky?

He spends days pacing and stressing, and at the cost of his pride, he calls Yuuji, who tells him to do whatever feels right. Great.

Choso tried, he really did. 

He shows up at your door with an armful of gifts, everything from handwritten love letters to a carefully wrapped box filled with all your favourite chocolates. His eyes light up when you open the door, and without hesitation, he pulls you into the warmest, longest hug imaginable.

He keeps it simple but heartfelt—a pasta dinner, a slow movie night, his hand resting over yours the entire time. 

He stares at you like you hung the stars in the sky, eyes filled with so much adoration it makes you a little dizzy. At some point, he blurts out, "I don’t really know how this works, but… I just wanted to make today special for you." And you swear, if you weren’t already in love with him, that would’ve done it.

Megumi Fushiguro

Megumi is low-key but incredibly sweet. 

He never makes a big deal out of celebrations, it’s not really his style. But he knows how much it means to you that he shows up, so he makes sure you know he cares.

You wake up to a warm cup of tea, brewed just right, and breakfast-in-bed. You’re delighted to see your eggs shaped like a heart, and Megumi stands there in the corner, grinning with pride. 

When the two of you go out for lunch at the latest ‘aesthetic’ cafe you found on the net, he makes sure to surprise you with a bouquet of your favourite flowers wrapped in brown paper.

And at night, he decides to take you to a karaoke bar. In some ways, you and Megumi are polar opposites. But when it comes to karaoke, there was a shared love. He never sang in front of his friends (Nobara would never let him live it down), but he dedicates just about every song to you tonight. You’re too busy laughing to sing.

The night is cozy—just the two of you, tangled up under warm blankets, the scent of laundry soap filling the space. Megumi doesn’t say much, but his actions speak volumes—the way he pulls you closer, the way his fingers gently trace patterns on your skin. 

At some point, he murmurs, "You make every day feel like Valentine’s Day." And just like that, your heart is gone.

Yuji Itadori

For Yuuji, Valentine’s is a mix of romance and utter chaos. 

He got you flowers and chocolates, but to your utter horror, he bought you one of those musical Hallmark cards. The tinny audio drives you up the wall (Yuuji swears it’s the best thing ever invented). You’re tempted to light both him and the card on fire.

But you had no idea what was in store. You got a little worried when he set up the mini-projector. You really hoped it wasn’t another video of him singing. Bless his heart, but his singing voice should never see daylight.

You buzz in anticipation and when the video starts playing, you are absolutely delighted, Yuuji had commissioned one of those ridiculous TikTok videos where a bunch of random guys dance and hold up a sign with your face on it and wish you Happy Valentine’s. 

He’s grinning the whole time, clearly proud of himself. You laugh so hard you almost forget the effort he put into everything. 

The night is warm and silly. He refuses to let you oversee his cooking, resulting in mildly burnt vegetables, but the thousand tiny moments where he looks at you like you’re his entire world make it taste all the better.

At some point, he blurts out, “I just love you so much.”

And it’s so earnest, so raw, that you can’t help but tackle him to the couch with a flurry of kisses all over his face.

Thank you for reading! I appreciate any likes/comments/reblogs/follows. Constructive criticism is welcome. Do not plagiarise my content and/or post it anywhere without crediting me.

Dividers by @/saradika-graphics

[miraculouslbcnreactions]

I have been thinking about Feast recently and it got me thinking about the kids that are studying at the temple and how fucked up it is that they're brought back 186 years later

Considering that Fu was forced into guardianship and had to leave his family behind we can assume the same thing goes for the other kids as well, which makes the situation even worst

Because imagine you're around young Fu's age, they force you into guarding a box with magical jewelries that you didn't asked for and aren't interested in, doesn't help that the training is a nightmare, suddenly a giant blue frog shows up and swallows you whole alongside other people and you're now dead, and when you thought things couldn't get any worst you're miraculously (no pun intended) brought back to life and you realize you skipped almost two decades into the future, meaning you can't come back to your family since I highly doubt they're alive for so many years, you can't go back to your home either because again highly doubt it exists anymore, so you're now an orphan just like the other kids and you're forever stuck in that guardian temple

One thing for sure everybody want Fu dead after this

The guardian lore is one of the many elements of canon that feels incredibly underdeveloped. Heck, I'm not even wild about the idea that a sentimonster's damage can be perfectly undone over a hundred years later. The implications are really weird. Like, if I'm dying from cancer, can I make a sentimonster and have it kill me so that a future Ladybug can undo that move and I wake up when cancer has been cured? Based on Feast, I think the answer is yes! It's super weird. ~180 years have passed. The guardians should have been dead, cure or no cure.

Having Fu be an unwilling child guardian would have been a solid choice if the goal was to have a discussion about Marinette also being an unwilling child guardian. It's a decent analogy for generational trauma. It could even be used as a discussion on child soldiers! But canon isn't doing any of that, so Fu being an unwilling child guardian just feels sad and weird. Why add that element if you're not going to do anything with it? It's up there with implying that teenagers aren't supposed to be Chosen like they did in Furious Fu:

Su-Han:(interrupts, shouting) When the lion speaks the cub listens! First off you two are going to hand over your Miraculous to me. Cat Noir: What, that's a bad joke. (smiles with Ladybug) And I know all about bad jokes. Ladybug: We can't do that! How are we going to defeat Shadow Moth without our Miraculous? Su-Han: I will reassign then to carefully selected, appropriate adult holders. Like any rightful responsible Guardian would do.

You should never acknowledge that teenagers are a questionable choice for heroes in your show about teenage heroes unless you're going to give that statement actual weight and discuss how messed up this would be in the real world. Canon doesn't do this, so this was a terrible thing to include. This isn't breaking the fourth wall for a joke. It's the writers trying to engage with bad-faith criticism to which there is no good counterargument other than, "this is the show's premise. If your suspension of disbelief doesn't allow you to enjoy that premise, then this isn't the show for you." Don't remind the viewers who are happy to play along that the show is asking them to use their suspension of disbelief. That is a great way to break their suspension of disbelief!

All of this is why my stance is that the guardian order was a bad call. It's just way too complicated an element to introduce if you're not going to do anything interesting with it. Su Han could have easily just been the guardian of a different miracle box who comes to train Marinette when Fu is lost. He could have even been some sort of master guardian who only has one kwami of his own and no box because he oversees all the different sub boxes. Anything is better than introducing a whole temple of guardians and then only having one guy show up to help, especially when he doesn't actually do anything to help! At least give the heroes a new power up!

[pukefactory]

reader where they find out vee is able to eat tapes since she cant eat organic food perhap?

⊹⊱•••《 COMPUTER FEED 》•••⊰⊹

⍟ Summary: A compilation of headcanons featuring the reader discovering Vee’s strange dietary choices

⍟ Character(s): Vee Version 1 (Dandy’s World)

⍟ Genre: Headcanons, SFW

⍟ Warning(s): None - Completely Safe!

⍟ Image Credits: Qwelver

☇ You don’t notice it at first—Vee keeps her habits to herself, and you never paid much attention to the way she handles tapes. That is, until you walk in on her casually biting into one like it’s a granola bar. She doesn’t even react to your staring, only raising a brow. “What? Never seen someone eat before?” she says, as the tape phases through her screen like a hologram, accompanied by the distinct sound of digital chewing.

☇ She doesn’t make a big deal out of it, of course—it’s completely normal to her. When you ask how long she’s been eating tapes, she shrugs. “Since always. Kinda have to, y’know. Unless you’ve got a better idea.” She tilts her head, her screen flickering slightly. “Didn’t think so.” She dismisses any further questions, clearly finding your curiosity more irritating than endearing.

☇ Vee is picky about the tapes she eats. They have to be completely clean, with no labels or smudges. The film inside must remain untouched, just like the outer casing. If they don’t meet her standards, she scoffs, flicking through a pile of them and tossing the bad ones over her shoulder without a second thought, all while you watch in confusion. She has opinions on the taste. “Pre-recorded ones are fine, but live audio’s way better,” she admits, taking another bite. “You ever try eating something that’s been sitting on a shelf for decades? Yeah. Exactly. Stale.” Of course, Vee would be particular about her food—she’s fussy about everything else. But in this case, it seems excessive. Does she care? Absolutely not.

☇ You catch her mid-snack one day, and she actually hesitates for a fraction of a second. Just a brief pause—barely noticeable—but you see her screen flicker before she recovers. “Gonna stand there gawking, or you got something to say?” She crunches down on the tape with a smirk, waiting for your response. Whatever you say doesn’t really faze her, though—she enjoys how confused it makes you and keeps you in limbo about the whole thing. It’s entertaining.

☇ She doesn’t like when people make a big deal about it. The moment someone reacts too strongly, she gets irritated. Ask too many questions, and she flips them back on you. “Why do I eat tapes? Why do you eat whatever it is you eat?” There’s an edge to her voice, like she finds the questioning mildly offensive. Maybe it’s best not to press too hard unless you want to be met with her passive-aggressive responses.

☇ She never announces it, but if you pay attention, you can tell when she’s hungry. She gets a little snippier, her replies shorter and more clipped. If she’s really hungry, her screen flickers more often. “Yeah, yeah, I’ll deal with it,” she mutters, already reaching for her crunchy tape snacks to settle her mood. If she gets too snappy, it’s usually a good idea to track down her favorite kind of tape to calm her down. And if you listen closely, there’s a faint buzzing noise emanating from somewhere in her body—almost like a stomach growling, demanding more tapes.

☇ She never says it out loud, but she appreciates that you don’t make it weird (once you get over the initial shock, anyway). When you stop acting surprised and simply hand her a tape without a word, she gives you a look—just for a second—before smirking. “Thanks.” Then she chomps down on her plastic treat like it’s the most natural thing in the world. If you manage to find spare tapes in good condition, she accepts them without hesitation, offering a rare smile before stashing them away in her room—saving them for later, when she can enjoy them in private.

[femnoah]

Feral Female Noah part 3!!!

Part 1

The girls night!

Heather's still suspicious of what 'Noah' is up to and tells 'him' that. Cause she thought 'he' was going to be eliminated so why is 'he' still here? Courtney is also incredibly curious about it so 'Noah' tells them about the team swap with Cody. Their attention is then drawn to the rom com where they basically trash talk the main couple and then it turns out that the fl's ex boyfriend had cheated on her which sparks Heather to start ranting about it (she didn't actually kiss Trent you know, she's not stupid, it's like how fights in movies aren't real, it all comes down to camera angles).

Courtney tells Neha to tell Heather what Neha told her. So she explains what happened in the cargo, including the threats. "So he had a knife to my throat and told me he'd kill me if I told Courtney" "ohh, that's what the cut was about, I thought it was a shaving accident or something" "on this plane, honey please, I would never willingly let anything sharp near my neck" " honestly though, threatening you like that, what does he think this is, some sort of mob flick" Courtney just starts laughing at this. "I never thought of that, he really is cringey isn't he" "too right courts, I have no idea what you saw in that wannabe highlighter" " well, then I told him that if he tried that I would crush his dick and balls" "no way" "wait! you didn't tell me about that part!?"

They eventually end up talking about the rest of the guys when Courtney brings up potential crushes~ (cough cough heather cough cough). Heather immediately denies liking Alejandro which both Courtney and Neha comment on. "Why not, I mean he's fit and a gentleman!" "Yeah, the guy's hot and he's like perfect husband material" "...... didn't you call him a slippery eel Noah?" "I thought you were smart! You're like the only other person who knows he is evil and now you're calling him hot!!" "I stand by what I said, he's manipulative, slippery, hot, competitive, petty, a little diabolical at times and a total and complete eel: he's clearly husband material!" "If I didn't know any better I'd assume you'd have a thing for the guy" "that sounded pretty confession-like Noah, I'm actually kind of worried about you if that's what you find attractive" "Oh yeah, I definitely do, but don't worry I'm not going to fight you for him Heather, we can be each others totally lame wingmen instead" " so you ARE gay then!" "No" "don't be stupid Courtney, people can be bisexual" "Nah, I'm 100% heterosexual" ".....didn't you just admit to liking Alejandro" "were you dropped on your head as a kid or something nerd?"

Neha just looks at the two with a Cheshire grin before telling them that she'll let them in on a little secret. The other two are obviously very curious and lean in to presumably hear what 'he' is going to say. They weren't sure what they were expecting but it definitely wasn't for the new 'guy' on the team to grab 'his' hair- wait wig?! Staring back at them is a recognisable girl (woah, Courtney notes that her forehead is actually smaller than she thought- it must have been because of the wig- and now that she actually thinks about it, 'Noah' had always looked very feminine) with long messy hair and a smug grin that utters only one word "surprise~" . Heather's response to this after her moment of shock was to immediately start cackling (across the world, every total drama viewer and other contestants felt an intense shudder down their spine..... It was probably cause of climate change or something) and says "you really are straight, you fooled us all nerd, I'm impressed" "wait-- you'rE A GIRL?!?!!?"

She ends up telling them her name and the reasoning behind the whole pretending to be a boy thing cause what are they gonna do about it, tell on her to Chris? The other two girls agree to keep it a secret cause for once, it'd have no impact on the game. They also discuss slight game strategy (mainly how Gwen is totally the next eliminated on their team and how to handle Sierra after she finds out about the team switch), Neha tells them that after Gwen is gone, if they really need to vote someone else on the team off then they can vote for her (she's in the competition for reasons other than money rn so she doesn't mind getting eliminated so the other two who actually want to win the money can- as long as she gets what she wants out of it at least) which lessens Heather's distrust in her even more. "Wait, I just realised, it really is girls Vs boys now, I'm sure Chris is loving that" "not like any of the other idiots know that though" "yeah, and good luck getting them to believe either of you about it"

They even get to change into the spare pyjamas for the interns cause there's no cameras rolling in the staff quarters. Actual mildly comfortable pyjamas! And Neha doesn't have to wear multiple layers of constrictive clothing to hide her boobs, at last she can breathe, freedom!

The night ends with the three girls passed out and Neha clinging to them (no one can escape her koala grip, no matter the universe)

They're not immediately besties or anything (though they do look like it to everybody else) but all three of them feel like the night is the start of a genuine friendship (the first on the show for Heather and Courtney)

Heather wakes up first in the morning cause she feels someone tapping her. She then immediately wakes up the other two girls by screaming because she was NOT expecting to wake up to Chef leaning over them doing the 'I'm not mad, I'm disappointed' mum stance. Turns out they slept in... Whoops.

Next

[moonmunson]

pas de deux

to the anon that requested this, i know this isn't exactly what you asked for, but inspiration struck. i hope you like it.

cw: wally certified yearner and loverboy, me not knowing how to describe dancing, allusions to reader being murdered in a very traumatic way by her dance partner but no specifics, sfw

wc: 3k

Wally knows that what he’s attempting to do is misguided at best, and probably disastrous at worst. 

The idea came to him a few weeks ago. He’d been sitting with Charley and Rhonda, shooting the shit in the gymnasium before their meeting with Mr. Martin, when he’d asked, “Is it possible to break a ghost out of their loop?” 

To Charley’s credit, he’d attempted to take the question seriously. Rhonda had just rolled her eyes, removing the ever present lollipop from her mouth before interrupting.

“Again with this? Come on, loverboy. Not gonna happen.” 

Charley sighed, tutting at Rhonda before turning back to Wally, a sympathetic look on his face, “There’s always a chance it could work, but if you’re talking about who we think you’re talking about, I’d say they’re pretty slim.” 

“More than slim, I’d say,” Rhonda butts in again, “I’m surprised she hasn’t worn a hole through the floor, with the way she dances. Like a ballerina in a music box.” She spins her lollipop through the air, follows it with her eyes before shoving it back into her mouth. 

“Have I ever told you your attitude is annoying?” Wally asked, sinking back into his chair and crossing his arms over his chest, ignoring the scoff from Rhonda’s direction, “I’m just saying. We’ve never even tried. What if she’s like, aware in there, like in her mind.” He reaches up to run a hand through his hair - a nervous tick he hadn’t lost, even in death. 

“Does it matter? She’s still stuck here like the rest of us. Better to spend eternity dancing than dealing with the banalities of high school.” 

Mr. Martin walked in then, effectively ending the conversation. Through the whole meeting, Wally couldn’t stop thinking about it. He’d seen you in the auditorium before, looping over and over, stuck in an endless dance for two but lacking a partner. It’s a rare thing for a ghost to act the way you do - there haven’t really been any other deaths at the school that were traumatic enough to warrant a loop like yours, and he’d been determined to break you out of it. Screw Rhonda, he’d thought. He could do it, he just needed to figure out how. 

The problem was, Wally knew nothing about dancing. He's not the smartest guy. He knows that, but he’d been brainstorming different ways to break you out of your loop for a while now, with nothing to show for it. It’d been grating heavily on his nerves.

In a moment he’d regrettably look back on, he’d gone so far as to join you on stage to attempt a fake out. When he’d lunged at you, and you hadn’t even blinked in his direction, he started to think Rhonda was right. You couldn’t see him, you couldn’t hear him. You were stuck up there, doomed to spin around the stage for God knows how long and there was nothing he could do about it. 

Then one day, something really fucking weird had happened. 

—

He’d taken to sitting in the audience, to watch you dance. It was weird, more than a little morbid and slightly obsessive, but watching you move was captivating to him. 

He found some similarities between dancing and playing football - the finesse needed to dodge and weave through people trying to tackle him was one thing - but he’d never seen anyone move the way you do. Every move you made had purpose. The lines created by your arms and legs, the softness with which you carried yourself from one end of the stage to the other. 

Preoccupied with the pressures his mom applied to him, the weight of the world on his shoulders, he’d never taken an interest in dancing, other than the awkward slow side to side swaying he’d done with his Junior year girlfriend at the prom. Now, he wishes he could dance with you - wishes you could teach him to move like you do. 

You’re stuck there, like a spinning top that refuses to fall - unable to fall. Except, as he was watching you, something unthinkable happened. 

You were looking at him. Like, looking straight at him. 

It took him more than a few seconds to realize what was happening, and even then he couldn’t believe it. Charley had talked to him about dancers having a spot to look at when they’re spinning - how it keeps them from falling over, keeps them from becoming dizzy and messing up. Was it possible Wally just happened to be in the seat you used as a spot? 

He couldn’t tell if there was recognition in your eyes, if you were really looking at him or seeing right through him, the way a living person would. But your gaze was fixated on him either way. And your face, it… you just looked so sad. If he didn’t know better, Wally would’ve thought your expression was pleading, looking for help. It only lasted a few seconds, before you turned your head in a different direction and your body followed. It sent him reeling. 

He found Charley and Rhonda in the library, and told them what happened. Charley sat up in his chair, struggling to understand what he meant. 

“What do you mean she looked at you?” 

Wally went to explain it to them again, hoping they’d believe this was out of the norm, “I mean she looked at me, dude. She was up there spinning like she always is, and I was just sitting there watching -” 

“You were watching her? Voyeurism doesn’t suit you, loverboy.” Rhonda’s arms were crossed over her chest, legs folded over each other - closed off, like she always is. 

“It’s not like that and you know it,” Wally sighed, exasperated, “It was weird. At first I thought she was using me to spot, while she was twirling, but the way her face looked? I don’t know, dude. It was just weird.” 

“There’s a chance she was looking at you, don’t you think? We don’t really know how looping works, so,” Charley’s endless kindness is a relief to Wally - especially when he says things like, “I think it’s good, what you’re doing. I wish we could help more.” Charley looks over in Rhonda’s direction, nudging her to say something to Wally. 

“Yeah. As much as I give you flack for it, your whole -” Rhonda waves a hand in Wally’s general direction, “boy savior thing, I do wish there was something we could do for her. It sucks. Not having a partner to dance with.” There was a glint of remorse in Rhonda’s eye, more than Wally ever thought he’d see from her. 

A spark lights up in Wally’s head, a hidden spotlight finding its mark onstage  - landing on you, your flawless form.

“Do you think if I dance with her, that it could break the loop?” Wally asks, looking back and forth between his two friends. 

“It’s definitely worth a shot,” Charley shrugs, gaze turning to his left, “Rhonda? What do you think?” 

The beatnik pauses for a second, long enough for them to see the cogs turning in her brain. 

“Look, I’m not saying it’ll work. Probably won’t. But maybe,” Wally starts to smile, “Just maybe, if you try to connect with her on her terms, instead of trying to force some logic onto the situation, something might change.” 

“I don’t know how to dance, though. I don’t even know where to start.” Wally drops his head in his hands, shoulders hunched over. Charley reaches over, splays a hand on Wally’s back and rubs back and forth. 

“Think of it like football maybe? You’ve got your plays, right?” Wally nods, sitting up and urging Charley to continue, “Those are like the steps. Formations could be the positions you take, and in dancing, timing is everything. The same way it is in football, at least from what I’ve gathered of the rants you go on. Rhonda’s right. Maybe if you learn how she moves, you can try communicating with her that way.” 

Wally sits up, throwing his arms around his two friends, ignoring Rhonda attempting to push him away before jumping up from his spot on the couch. He nearly trips over himself to sprint out of the room and down the hall, towards the auditorium, shouting “Thank you!” behind him. 

—

Wally stood in the echoing auditorium, the stage lights illuminating the otherwise dark room. Every day for the past week, he’d come to you - trying to decipher a language he did not speak. He watched you, trapped in your endless pas de deux. Gliding through the same steps, turns, your desperate yearning clear up close. 

At first, he’d just tried to mimic you. Clumsy and tripping over his own feet, he’d stumbled through the basic positions, frustrated with himself. His movements were jerky and awkward, a stark contrast to your effortless grace. He felt silly - like a hulking figure trying to copy something delicate and precise, something that took years and years of training. 

Slowly, things started to shift. He stopped just watching and copying, instead starting to feel the music that wasn’t there. He began to understand the reasoning behind your movements, the emotions they expressed. He started to see the gaps in your performance, the place where someone was supposed to fit, to complete the cycle you’d been stuck in. 

He started to see the places where he could fit. 

He wasn’t just mirroring anymore, he was learning the language. Each day he got a little closer, a little less clumsy, a little more in tune with the phantom rhythm that filled the empty auditorium. He was still a football player, and he always would be, but he was learning to use some of that training to become a dancer, too. For you. 

Wally knew this might not even work. He’d been in his head about it for a week at this point, and not even Charley or Rhonda could break him out of the loop he’d pulled himself into. He stopped going to the life support meetings in the gymnasium, much to Mr. Martin’s dismay - instead going to spend all of his free time right there next to you onstage. 

He put more effort into practicing for this than he ever did for one of his football games, a feeling of true purpose guiding his every movement. 

When the day finally came, Wally felt calm. He felt ready. 

He walked onto the stage, ready to put his rehearsing to the test. Ready to run the play, to score the winning point. You began your routine, perfect and meticulous and haunting as ever. This time, though, Wally didn’t just watch. He joined you. 

He didn’t try to lead, didn’t try to impose himself or change your dance, he simply became your partner. He matched your movements as best as he could, trying to feel his way through the dance. Trying not to be too robotic, but instead trying to move with the same empathy and yearning that he’d watched you dance with over and over. 

As you reached the point in your dance where your partner should have joined, Wally was there. He wasn’t a perfect dancer, not by any metric, but he was present. He was the missing piece. 

As your movements intertwined, a visible shift occurred. You, you who had been trapped in this endless cycle of longing, suddenly seemed to notice him. Your eyes, usually fixated on some distant point, flickered - focusing on Wally for the first time. Genuinely seeing him. Your eyes filled with tears, and as one of them dropped onto your cheek, Wally went to wipe it away. 

The music, which up until this point had only been an idea in Wally’s head, suddenly seemed to fill the auditorium, bouncing off of the walls and echoing around the two of you. Your dance became a true pas de deux, a conversation of movement and emotion. 

As the music started to slow, Wally found himself on unsure footing. He hadn’t stopped to think before about how the dance was supposed to end, but it didn’t matter. Grasping his hands in your own, taking the lead and guiding him through the end, the two of you moved in perfect harmony. Spectral echoes of each other, gazes connected and satisfaction blooming. 

The yearning in your movements softened, replaced by a sense of completion. The music faded, leaving the two of you in silence. For half a second, Wally thought you’d cross over, leaving him onstage by himself. Instead, you turned to him, a small smile gracing your lips. You didn’t fade. You were still there - as solid as he was. 

“Thank you,” you whispered, “You helped me finish.” 

Wally stood stock still, surprise still echoed on his features. He couldn’t believe he’d actually done it. You looked around the empty auditorium, eyes tracking over the seats before landing on him again, “I can’t tell you how long I’ve waited to finish that dance.” 

“I’m glad I could help you,” Wally stutters out, a pink flush on his face, “I know I’m not the best dancer.” You laugh, a sweet, girlish thing. In the five minutes that had passed since the dance finished, Wally swore he could see the weight being lifted from your chest. 

“You were perfect.” A flicker of sadness crossed your face, quickly replaced by gentle acceptance, “I… I don’t think I’m going anywhere, I’m still here, but…” you emphasized, palms open and gesturing to the stage around you, “but, I think it’s different now. I’m not stuck anymore.” 

“That’s good!” Wally’s face lit up, empathetic and gleeful. 

Your own smile brightened, affected by his sheer amount of happiness for you. You took his hand, solid and steady in yours. 

“What do I do now?” you asked, eyebrows turned up and inward, “Do ghosts sleep? I feel like I need to sleep for a month.” 

Wally giggled, leading you down the side stage steps and down the rows of seats, out of the auditorium, “We don’t need to sleep, but you can if you want to. You want me to show you my hiding space?” You nod, following him down the hallway.

When he passes the teacher’s lounge, and Charley and Rhonda see whose hand he has grasped in his, he winks at their shocked expressions before continuing down the stretch of linoleum and lockers. 

—

Life - or, afterlife, you suppose - has been weird since Wally broke you out of your loop. The first couple of days were extremely rough, spent trying to understand just how long you’d been up on that stage. A new member of Mr. Martin’s life support group, everyone has been extremely welcoming to you. 

Because ghosts don’t need to sleep, you haven't experienced any nightmares, something you’re exceedingly grateful for. Even so, you wake up from your naps feeling uneasy. Flashes of the end of your life playing in your mind, reminding you of the circumstances surrounding your death. 

You’re not ready to talk to the group about it, but Wally hasn’t left your side since he’d woken you from your reverie. You tell him about it in bits and pieces - about your dance partner, a shy, kind boy, turned cold blooded killer. The specifics of it don’t matter anyways. He can’t hurt you anymore, and according to the computers in the library, he couldn’t hurt anyone anymore -  following you into that good night soon after the police had taken him away. 

You learn that your family moved out of Wisconsin a decade ago, in an attempt to escape the media following them around and shouting questions at them, about a court case that didn’t happen because there was nobody to put on trial. You hope wherever they were, that they found some semblance of peace. 

Wally has been an incredible influence on you, and after settling into what the rest of your eternity might look like, you’ve had the same effect on him. He didn’t expect you to dance again any time soon, if ever, but he’d catch you by yourself sometimes - stretching your legs, sitting on the floor with your arms poised in that certain way. 

Then, after a year spent together going to meetings and finding hidden corners in the school to make out like true teenagers, he’d found you in Split River High’s newly minted dance room - sock covered feet gliding over the lacquered floor, hope and joy baked into your movements instead of the grief and melancholy he’d become so accustomed to in your previous routine.  

Out of the corner of your eye, when you’d seen him peeking through the window, you’d beckoned him in to join you. You started to truly teach him how to dance - guiding him through Pliés and Relevés and giggling at him when his lanky legs got in his own way. 

“You’d be better at this if you were shorter, I think,” you’d said, a smile unable to hide taking over your face, “but you look pretty good.” 

“Pretty good? These legs saved you, babe,” Wally scoffed, wiggling his toes to get you to laugh.  He always succeeded in that. 

“You’re right, you’re right,” you walked over to stand nearer to him, eyes angled upward to meet his honey brown ones, “the prince to my sleeping beauty, how could I forget?” 

“Damn straight, I’m your prince,” Wally’s warm hands grasped your cheeks, his mouth lowering to meet yours for a few seconds before gently shoving you away, “now show me how to do that thing again? I think I’m finally getting it.” 

—

Rhonda would never admit it, but she’d been especially proud of the effort Wally had put in to drag you from your loop. She knows everyone thinks she’s cold hearted, and she agrees to a certain extent, but she’d known the agony Wally felt when he thought he couldn’t help you. She’d never tell anyone this, either, but she’d snuck into the auditorium the night that he’d broken your loop - woken you up from your neverending nightmare. She’d stood alone, in the back and out of view, a smile etched on her features.

“You go, loverboy.”

a/n: tysm for this request! this was honestly the most fun i've ever had writing something. the inspiration was crazy and even though i know nothing about dancing i hope this is readable and easy to follow because i'm immensely proud of it. anon if you liked it pls lmk! I'm having such a fun time writing for wally so PLS send in any requests you have!!!

also, don't forget to like and reblog!

[dress-and-impress]

(cal if you see this pls dont read it has spoilers)

Now that The Dragon Prince Season 7 has been released and the processing has died down imma just share smth right her right now... the whole "Ezran vs Rayllum" thing did not affect me AT ALL while watching it. Was totally unfazed by it becasue I knew they were gonna all be friends again by the end of it... and have no opinion about who was right and who was wrong (That's not to say I didn't feel weird about it. I very much did). So, here is my presentive of each character in this situation:

(picture obviously from a poster of TDP promo)

Ezran:

As every Ez stan knows, he's a young king and has many difficult and challenging decisions to make. He was NEVER prepared to take the throne and when he did it was with such honesty, patience and love for EVERYONE, human, elf and even villain (as per talking to Aravos and Karim about their views and perspectives). BUT when the love he had got taken advantage of, he lost it. Like I would too if you spend all this time building a bridge (hypothetically and in a way literally) with people perceived as "the enemy". His perception of the world became a blur and the innocence he had was shattered in a million pieces. When Callum left he was undoubtably confused but MORE determined to put his fathers killer to justice instead of asking why (like he usually does).

Callum:

Now he's a very controversial side because you either love him or hate him. Very quickly though i find it really strange how he keeps saying that Rayla does everything for others and wants to do something "for her"; the quazar diamond scenario in season 6 and at the oddly adorable bridge scene at the end of season 7. To put it quite plainly, Callum has no idea how to make himself happy, so he makes other people happy. But you're probably thinking "Callum pissed off Ezran and ditched his brother for his gf". Yes. He did. Callum was a mediator in the situation (or tried to be) and once he knew both sides couldn't be happy he had to choose. Ezran, his half-brother and King who has kingdoms and allies that support him no matter what. Or the girl he loves and spent years thinking about and wants to make up as much time as possible with her AND who regretted running away without asking for any help from Callum.

Lets refer back to the moments before Rayla decided to leave (on Callums birthday). She was determined to find Viren and finish what they started and Callum didn't want her to so they made a compromise. BUT THEN Rayla left as we know. Alone. With nothing.

Rayla:

We have no idea what Rayla spent those 2 years doing trying to find Viren but lets list a few things we know (from when she breaks Runnan out of prison); She had to say goodbye to her birth parents who she thought she was going to bring back from Virens coin, is banished from her home and cannot go back and is basically determined to have some form of stability in her life. Quick note, Rayla and Callum are not concerned about Aravos because they think he's still in the pearly.

Rayla has made a lot of impulsive decisions throughout the show and it should be expected that she would betray Ezran's trust and make things difficult for Callum to prioritise the need to get AT LEAST ONE OF HER PARENTS HOME SAFELY. Her mind was an utter blur and filled with emotion she didn't know how to express. The only thing Rayla wanted to do was solve the problem. TAKE ACTION on the one thing that's making her feel that way. She's done it before and will continue to do it.

So to sum up watching that scene and processing it, you need to understand all sides. The emotion, the determination and challenges that came across the three of them. It gave their characters development and gave us an opportunity to explore WHY the characters feel the way they feel or make the choices they choose to make. It was never a "right or wrong" thing but more so gaining growth and maturity that decisions need to be made regardless of how painful it may be.

[minty364]

DPXDC Prompt #52

Danny had been missing for 3 years now. He was scared after the accident at 7 years old left him with freaky ghost powers. His parents didn’t like ghosts so he had to run, and run he did. His powers made him bad, ghosts were bad so if he used them he was bad. He winds up under the care of the League of assassins and was trained the last 2 years as a bodyguard to the demon heads heir. Then Ras dies and he and Damian are sent to live with Bruce Wayne, who takes in Danny as he had no where else. A couple more years go by and Danny starts to get a bit curious about his powers. He’s a bit older now and thinks if the pits weren’t bad then maybe ghosts aren’t as bad as his parents thought.

Maybe he should bring this up to Bruce? But maybe he hates ghosts like his parents did, so he starts with Damian.

[vaguely-concerned]

Origins is of course the DA game most closely in conversation with and playing around with Tolkien (right down to the walking talking poetree haha) -- and even more so than most works in the larger western fantasy tradition derived from Tolkien's work that DA:O also hails from and owes a lot of its Stuff to, what makes the game so great to me is that it's doing so very deliberately, and is subverting and deconstructing those tropes and entrenched ideas in some very interesting ways without at all denigrating what it's commenting on. (it doesn't have the almost disdainful undertones of the vein of fantasy that seeks to make the world more 'realistic' ala the more tedious reactions to G.R.R.Martin's work, for example, despite having the darker fantasy bent to it.) among other elements it adopts, what I find the most fascinating is the choice to use the same literary device/conceit Tolkien did in ostensibly only having in-universe biased sources and works to deliver the world through (which I feel is an underappreciated thing about his approach but is part of what makes his world so enduringly compelling and real-feeling -- the feeling of real scholarship devoted/applied to a made-up world. the grounding effect of a good diegetic footnote about source criticism, truly).

many things to be said there, and I'm glad each following game has taken on different perspectives and lenses and traditions to view the world of Thedas through because if you stick with that one too closely for too long I fear we could teeter precariously close to Pratchett's famous and bitingly accurate accusation of most modern fantasy of that era just being about rearranging the furniture in Tolkien's attic lol. and while you could accuse DA2 (my perfect wife who has never done anything wrong in her life to be clear) of many things, that's not one of them, they are pulling on some completely different strings for that one and both the game and DA overall is better for it, to my mind. as so many things in this series: worth staying with and exploring for an installment even if it might get stale if all of it was like this! people are understandably sad about the elements from previous games that they liked which were lost along the way, but that capacity for reinvention is to my mind a huge strength of dragon age as a whole.

(I think Veilguard is coming in as a close second in Tolkien conversation-ness if only in outlining/revealing the worldbuilding that indeed may have been planned since DA:O around the animosity that SHOULD by all rights exist between dwarves and elves in this universe (as per Tolkienesque tradition standards). but doesn't really because you see: politics and the many pitfalls of conservation of knowledge over the ages. our ancestral enmity got semi-intentionally lost between the floorboards of history and you know what. maybe for the best. the humans are already up to so much shit you gotta keep your eyes on them at all times you can't be brawling with each other in the deep roads while they're still around getting up to their nonsense or they'll just pile up even more of it)

[sysig]

Just Desserts continental northern map made using this method! :D (Patreon)

[mistmarigold]

Looking back at this scene now, I genuinely love how he says her wish for their next life is what they can have in present too. It’s not just him saying things but it’s also a glimpse of old A’Zan - traumatised but hopeful - and him saying this is a huge step because he’s the one who’s willing to step towards that future. It’s there in his smile, it’s not as wide as when she kissed his cheek that day but it still carries that soft, tender hopefulness for their lives (CZY is phenomenal and I can’t say it enough).

I also love that it isn’t a loud proclamation and he isn’t compelled to say this for a hopeless / heartbroken Song Ran. But rather it’s a quiet statement that presents an alternative: why can’t they have it now? She has accepted that their lives are forever changed and would never go back to ‘normal’ but it doesn’t state that they can’t create a new normal for themselves. Just with them two alone, in their little world, by each other’s side.

And maybe that brought back the idea of elopement as well. For someone like Li Zan who has made his entire personhood around servicing others, it must be extremely difficult to be around his loved ones (except Song Ran). He knows he isn’t going to get better but to carry the weight of hope his loved ones have isn’t an easy burden either. He didn’t even tell his father the first time things went wrong because he’d never want to inconvenience him, let alone now. Song Ran choosing to ‘elope’ basically takes him away from expectations, responsibilities and pity he’d have to face (which wouldn’t help him anyway because instead of focusing on healing he’d be constantly hyper aware about inconveniencing others + the possibility of hurting others).

I know it’s an open ending but i genuinely believe they lived well together, away from the world perhaps, but they still had each other in their new ‘normal’ life. It must’ve been tough for both of them in different ways but they were enough for each other, this time around.

Even the tree and bird, A’Zan marrying Song Ran - that bit is so important too. The first time things went wrong, his guilt and self-blame took over his love for her. Yes, he wanted to be whole for her but he also carried that strong sense of responsibility as well especially after recalling that family. No matter what she would’ve said (she wouldn’t have held him back), he would’ve put everything else over her. But this time around, he’s only concerned with being hers.

In hindsight, he never really intended to break up with her or part ways. His diary said that too when he says he wants to die after getting her message. But he still felt that was something he had to do so that took precedence over her worries or needs at the time. I guess you could say he doesn’t have a lot of himself left to give away anymore so he’s holding on to her. But then again, he already chose her and prioritised her (and by essence himself) by not going to that last mission. He was ready to just be hers — maybe saving that family and opening up to her lifted a huge weight off him. Whatever it was, he was ready.

It is tragic because he was finally there and they were so close to being home. Song Ran must’ve felt guilty too for listening to Shen Bei, or for getting kidnapped or for a hundred other things that could’ve gone different and changed their fate. But as it remains, that’s what their reality is now.

So she has been trying her best to do whatever she can in her capacity to keep themselves alive (and hopefully live). But now she has an inkling that he is genuinely willing to take a step forward with her, that he wants to live with her, not as a ghost with fake smiles but as her A’Zan. And for now, that is enough for them.

God, this is what he says in the epilogue of the novel and I am unwell. But also the fact that he just wants to be hers.

When they talk about next life as if they've given up on any lasting genuine happiness in this one oh God. And all they want is mundane peace.

Oh yes please.

And then this...

[moe-broey]

Sometimes I worry I get too self-indulgent w how I portray Alfonse w Sharena, ESP keeping that one FEH comic in mind (which shows Alfonse and Sharena's differing boundaries, and how Alfonse in general "isn't much of a hugger") BUT. In my heart............. I like to imagine....... there are moments where he'll happily allow it. But the Problem Here, is if he gives Sharena an inch, she's taking a mile. She's going to completely smother him. She's dangling off his shoulders and squishing herself against him in ways previously thought impossible. Which may or may not be a contributing factor as to why he's a little apprehensive by default. And it's a feedback loop. Him being standoffish, her trying sooooo hard to respect that when she's STARVING for that physical affection, him allowing it, her squeezing him so hard that if he wasn't in armor he might break a rib. Endless loop. Unique hell. But they do love each other, completely.