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thebluestbluewords · 1 year ago

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Audrey’s teeth grind together so hard they practically creak. “You’re good! Right! That’s why you’re here!”

The purple haired girl, who must be the daughter of Maleficent, slouches back against the car so she can smirk up at them. “We’re not exactly good yet, princess,” she drawls. “So if you’re looking for a little wicked fun….”

“Absolutely not.”

“They’re here to learn,” Ben interrupts, before this can go too far. He’s loathe to believe that anyone is inherently evil, but the antagonism that they new kids are already engaging in is, admittedly, rather a lot to handle. Not that Audrey’s innocent either. Mutual antagonism isn’t exactly the shining picture of goodness that he’d been hoping to present. “We’re all students here, and the lessons of goodness are a lifelong study, right?”

“Right!” Audrey chirps, falling back against Ben’s side like she’s always been there. “Lifelong!”

Her tone suggests that she’s really rather see the new kids reach the end of those lives sooner rather than later, but her smile is perfect.

“Right,” Ben says again, for lack of anything better. “It’s great to meet you all. I’d hoped that this could be a sort of meeting of our two peoples. A chance to come back together. Our parent’s generation made their mistakes, but we are not our parents, and I believe that we each deserve the chance to write our own stories. Be that good, or evil. But I hope, now that you’re here, that you’ll want to choose good.”

Purple hair claps. Twice. “Wow. Meaningful speech. We…love that.”

Ben can feel his face flush horribly red. Kids who’ve just been in a car for ages don’t want to listen to him prattle on about the state of goodness as a moral choice. They probably want time to stretch, or find their rooms, or do whatever else people do after long journeys. Get snacks, maybe. He could’ve had them set out a snack table. That would’ve been better than the school band. Everyone loves snacks, and very few people actually love the sound of amateur brass players at sub-five feet away.

Eat More Dirt

The kids from the Isle of the Lost are tiny. They’re also dirty, but that’s easily fixable with some soap and water, and they’ll have that in abundance once they get the kids settled in their rooms.

“They’re so dirty,” Audrey whispers under her breath. “Are you sure we can’t send them back now? They haven’t even unpacked yet. It would be easier on them.”

“Be nice,” Ben whispers back, while trying to look like he isn’t. “They’ve had a long drive.”

Audrey scoffs, very quietly, and flips her hair over her shoulder. “…wish it were longer.” she murmurs, so low that it’s basically inaudible, and therefore fine for Ben to ignore.

The isle kids have arranged themselves in something like a line along the side of the limo. Two of them, the shorter boy and the taller girl, are staring openly at the school band, who stopped playing basically as soon as the boys fell out of the car. The other two are trying very hard to look like they aren’t staring, and they’re almost succeeding.

“Welcome!” Fairy Godmother says brightly, “to the illustrious Auradon Preparatory Academy! I’m Fairy Godmother, your headmistress.”

The smaller girl, the one with the messy purple hair who’s doing the best job at concealing her stare, twitches. “Charmed,” she says, and her voice is rough in a way that Ben usually associates with being sick, except she doesn’t seem sick. “We’re…glad to be here, I guess.”

“I’m sure you are, dears. Well, we do have a few rules here, the most important of which is to remember that the gates of learning will always be open to you so long as you are here.”

Purple hair leans back from the overbearing onslaught of Fairy Godmother’s enthusiasm. “Wow. That’s…cool.”

“I’ll be seeing you all for a little meeting tonight, but for now, let me get myself out of the way so you can meet your student guides!” Fairy Godmother says brightly. Maybe a little too brightly, if the way the girl is pulling back is any indication.

Ben doesn’t want her to pull back.

He wants, suddenly and completely, to make these kids comfortable.

“Hello,” he says, because that’s what he’s prepared. “I’m Ben, and this is Audrey.”

“His girlfriend,” Audrey adds sweetly, clinging to Ben’s arm like her life depends on it. “Princess of Auroria, heir to the land of the dawn, and head of the cheer squad.”

The taller girl, the only one who managed to step out of the car rather than falling, perks up at the mention of Audrey’s title. “Princess? I’m a princess too.”

Audrey’s fingers tighten. “Oh, no. You’re not.”

The girl smiles faintly. She’s stunning, Ben can already tell. Not that he’s looking, not exactly, but even under the layer of dirt and goth sensibilities, the new girl looks like she expects people to pay attention to her.

“Princess Evie,” The girl says clearly. Evie. Her name is Evie. “Daughter of the Evil Queen, heir to the Mountain Territories, and presently the princess of the upper trade district of the Isle of the Lost.”

“The Evil Queen holds no status here,” Audrey says through a smile so bright and fake it could sell toothpaste. “And neither do you.”

Evie’s smile grows a bit wider. “I hold no status in Auradon, you mean. My land is on the Isle of the Lost, and I think you’ll find that I do hold quite a bit of status there.”

Audrey’s hand spasms. “You’re not on the Isle of the Lost anymore, but if you’d like to go back I’m sure Ben could accommodate that!”

One of the kids laughs.

“No, no,” the handsome, dark haired boy says. He’s still laughing, and it makes him look…younger, maybe? Lighter? Different, somehow, than how he looked before. “We’re good right where we are.”

#my fic #descendants #descendants fic #I appreciated the comment on the last part about Ben’s new crushes so much that I wrote a tiny bit more #this is truly just to play with AK voices so I might swap to Audrey and see if I can’t find an internal voice for her #seething with rage that these dirty kids are being GIVEN things when she so clearly DESERVES them for being Better Than Everyone Else #I do like Audrey a lot but she is at her core an insufferable rich girl

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carpenterswife · 7 months ago

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HALF OF ME (ii)

SUMMARY: When Soldier Boy doesn’t return from Nicaragua, Vought creates a bullshit lie, talking him up as a hero who died in a devastating, world-saving accident. You’re handed down the mantle of leader as Payback, and spend your time trying to live up to how Ben had lead them, while also attempting to figure out what truly happened to him.

WORD COUNT: 2945

WARNINGS: MINORS DNI. Vought’s corrupt behaviour, typical Soldier Boy behaviour, death, gore, vomit, drug abuse, alcohol abuse, sexual content, smut; descriptions of sex.

SERIES MASTERLIST / MAIN MASTERLIST

Ben didn’t come home from Nicaragua.

Blown to pieces by some Russian laser weapon (what the fuck?), the.. chunky remnants of his body were taken away in a helicopter. Presumably to be experimented on.

It made you sick. Ben might’ve been an asshole, a deep rooted cunt, but he didn’t deserve to have his corpse be defiled like that. Maybe you’d just gone soft for him, that’s all. Maybe his hushed, sweet words and gentle touches, in his last few days, had softened your heart.

But you spent nights grieving your loss, hyperventilating in your room as you felt his fingers tracing your hips again. If you closed your eyes tight enough, you could see him.

You’d never planned for Ben to die. Hell, he hadn’t even planned to do. He was supposed to be ageless; a man who didn’t die. Vought would hide him away when it became suspicious, and he’d live peacefully… as peaceful as he could get, anyway. That was what was supposed to happen.

But his guts were strewn across the base camp in Nicaragua, and you’d never see him again.

It only took Vought three months to create a bullshit cover story.

After all, they couldn’t tell America their beloved Soldier Boy was actually at the site of a cocaine smuggling operation when he was blown to bits. No, that’d taint his image that Vought had spent literal decades moulding. He needed to die a hero. A man that would live gloriously in textbooks and stories.

A nuclear reactor meltdown is what they came up with.

Fucking bullshit, really.

The man was practically immortal (which did raise the question of, how the hell did the Russians kill him in the first place?). Some radiation wasn’t going to take him out. You’d watched him take two full magazines from an assault rifle, and get back to his feet like nothing happened.

And now he was dead. You didn’t know how. You wished more than ever that he’d let you accompany Payback on this godforsaken mission. Because you were utterly clueless as to what had gone down, and no one was answering your questions, tearing up whenever you mentioned the place.

You wanted — needed — to know how this was possible.

You knew Ben, better than anyone else on the team, even Crimson, who stood up on stage, talking about how good of a man Ben was.

Ben was a good man — to those he thought deserved to see that side of him. He was reserved and harsh and rude. And, yes, he was naturally an asshole. But, there was a part of him capable of respect and kindness and love. It was just stuffed deep within.

You’d been drawing it, slowly and carefully. You’d dug your hand in and grasped onto it, worming that side of him out of his heart with every night you’d spent cuddled into his chest. And he’d been warming. His touches had been gentler, his words softer, his eyes more admiring. You’d made him that. You were the only one he’d deemed worthy of his love and trust and respect.

Crimson had never seen that side of him. She’d never even come close to opening him up, seeing who he truly was.

As she talked fake stories of their blinding romance, about how he was such an incredible boyfriend, you just rolled your eyes in the audience. The only time Ben spent with Crimson outside of the public eye was when he was balls deep inside of her. And, even then, he liked to say she was a terrible fuck.

He also liked to say you were a good fuck. It was his favourite compliment; as funny was that was. As he railed you against his mattress, his hands keeping you firmly where he wanted you, he muttered praises.

That was different to the Ben the other women got. He’d degrade them: call them every name under the sun as he practically broke their pelvises. With you, sure, he was rough, but he complimented you; whispering and grunting softly, making sure you felt pretty and loved as he violently fucked you into unconsciousness.

And he always made sure you were okay afterwards. Ben giving aftercare was not something you’d expected, but he was damn good at making you feel safe and secure. He was a man of many talents.

The country was honouring him, as you begged for any kind of rational answer from Payback, from Edgar, from Vought. You were close to falling to your knees and pleading. But they didn’t care. Too busy basking in the boost of popularity that came from Ben’s death.

So, they upped their game.

And, when Vought erected a statue of Ben outside of Vought Tower, you threw up in the bathroom. The night you were named the new leader of Payback, you threw up again.

Apparently, it’s what Ben wanted. Which was bullshit. He wanted you in his kitchen with a dinner plate (lovingly, he’d told you that night. How could something like that be a compliment? You didn’t know, but it was Ben, so you guessed it was possible). But, you couldn’t fight it. So, nearly exactly three months after the last night you saw him, you took his place.

It felt wrong, and disrespectful, and you were lost and out of place. You had no knowledge on how to lead a team of asshole supes, that didn’t respect you or really like you that much.

Ben did this so easily. He lead Payback like a natural born leader. You lead like a baby giraffe learning to walk.

But you did it anyway.

“Soldier Boy was a national icon.” You held the microphone with shaking hands, willing them to stop, staring out at the gathering of civilians. It was wrong; America was mourning a death they’d all been lied to about. You swallowed your bile and pushed on. “And I am honoured to be taking his place as the leader of our brave and dedicated superhero team, Payback. I will be leading in his image, and his honour, and I hope that my work would make him proud.”

It was all bullshit.

You hadn’t written a word of this shit.

Edgar had shoved it into your hands and pointed you onto the stage. No warning. No cooperation. No opinion. Just… here you go, now go put on a show.

But, the audience was eating it up, and Edgar and your PA were giving you a thumbs up from backstage. They liked your performance. Ben, however, would be gagging in his mouth hearing this. He’d probably mock you, and claim you’d be better off just blowing his dick. He’d be right. Every word that was coming out of your mouth was corporate propaganda.

Your hands curled tighter around the microphones, knuckles whitening. You didn’t want to be here. You wanted to be home, as far away from Vought and these grieving people as fast as possible. “Soldier Boy was a respected, beloved hero, within your hearts, and Vought’s.” God, what cliche, sappy horseshit. “He was a good man, who lost his life saving millions.” You held back your scoff. “Vought will forever live in his shadow. We ask that you give us time and space to grieve our loss. Thank you.”

The audience applauded, loud and roaring, as you walked off stage.

The rage bubbling up in your chest was ready to burst, overflowing. This was all fucking sickening. No one was telling you anything. And they expected you to get on stage and do these speeches? To sit, cry and look pretty as you grieved the mighty Soldier Boy?

Fuck that. You were going to get answers.

There was some dark shit happening behind the scenes, and it had Vought’s grubby handprints all over it. The cover story. Payback’s silence. Edgar’s lack of care. None of it was adding up.

The moment the audience could no longer see it, your mouth curled to a scowl, heels clicking as you stormed up to Edgar. You were going to get answers, even if you had to physically get them. You’d find out what happened to Ben in Nicaragua, even if it cost you your head.

Stan Edgar, despite knowing he was now on the receiving end of your anger, stood tall. Cocky bastard. You could kill him with ease. But, of course, he didn’t care. There was only one person you’d ever seen Edgar cower from — Ben. To be fair with the guy, though, anyone would cower if Soldier Boy was screaming at you, inches from your face.

“What is going on?” Despite your rage, you kept your voice to a low hiss, not wanting to attract attention to your anger and frustration. “Can someone fucking explain to me, what is happening?” He began to walk away, and you followed. your words still flying out. “Why am I taking Ben’s place? How did he even die? You were in Nicaragua — what happened? Why did it take you so long to come up with that shitty reactor meltdown story?”

He turned to face you. You abruptly stopped, almost smashing into his chest with the suddenness of it, taking a stumbling step backwards. “I understand you’re upset.” You rolled your eyes at his professional tone, hands linked behind his back. Typical. “But I cannot answer those questions.”

“No, I deserve to know” You demanded. It was a losing battle, and you already knew that, but it doesn’t mean you wouldn’t try your hardest. “What. Happened?”

You weren’t getting an answer from Edgar. And that became clear when he turned his back to you, engaging in a conversation with his secretary, and leaving you in the dust. Glaring at the back of his head, you muttered obscenities.

If you weren’t getting it from Edgar’s lips, you’d get it another way.

Namely, breaking into his office that evening.

━━━━━━ ✦ ━━━━━━

Now, you weren’t a seasoned criminal, but Ben had taught you a thing or two. He was, very much, a criminal, and knew things you were never too curious to ask about. Like picking locks. Which was the most normal of his odd knowledge. (The fact that man has known the recipe to make a bomb was… terrifying.)

Picking a lock wasn’t in your expertise, but you remembered enough from what he’d shown you. Enough to kneel down in front of Edgar’s office door, and use a bobby pin to turn the lock until it clicked.

You grinned, internally thanking Ben for his… strange teaching techniques. Glancing down the hallway, both ways, you ensured it was empty; that no one was about to see you going against every rule in the book. Once it was cleared, you slipped inside the door with practiced ease, and shut the door behind you.

The sun was setting over the horizon — the golden hour hue lighting up the room enough for you to make your way over to Edgar’s shelves. You were determined to find something. Anything.

Something was going on. Something sketchier than Vought’s usual dirty work. And you were going to figure it out.

Your index finger skimmed the folders, peeking at the names. Until you found Ben’s — a cream folder with ‘SOLDIER BOY’ written across the front. Pulling it out, your eyes locked onto the bright red ‘DECEASED’ stamped under his name, your heart squeezing.

Swallowing thickly, uncertain, you flipped it open. Reasons over the contents, your eyes narrowed in concentration and then narrowed further in frustration.

It was nothing you didn’t already know. His past. The human trial experiment. Comp V. Ben had already told you all of this.

You glared at the deceased marker on the front of it, and then slid the folder back into the right spot. Alphabetical order, you noticed. You continued flicking through the files, trying to find something that could be labelled as suspicious.

Your ears perked at the sound of sudden buzzing from across the room. Like a dog to a squeaky toy, you rushed over, watching a piece of paper print out of the fax machine.

You snatched it up the moment it came out.

BCL-RED was the title word.

What the fuck was that?

You’d never heard of it before. It had to be an acronym, but your mind came up blank, as you racked it for any familiarity. Cursing internally, you scowled — damn fucking code words.

Before you could read ahead, a voice floated into the office from outside.

“Shit.” You hissed under your breath, suddenly very panicked. Returning the paper to the machine, you dashed for the door, poking your head out just enough to peek down the hall. You spotted Edgar just a ways down, facing away from you, talking to Black Noir. Quickly and silently, with expertise learnt on the field, you crept out of the office, taking off down the hallway in the opposite direction.

All the way back to your room, you muttered the words to yourself.

BCL-RED.

… BCL-RED.

━━━━━━ ✦ ━━━━━━

It wasn’t in any folders documents anywhere. Not even your PA knew what a BCL-RED was.

You felt like a dog chasing its tail. Going in circles, trying to find any clues as to what happened to Ben. Every day your suspicions rose. Something wasn’t right. Edgar was having hushed conversations. Payback was having meetings that excluded you.

Your trail lead you to Grace Mallory.

The young woman handed you a cup of coffee, hands scarred and calloused from her days at war. Quietly, you thanked her, sat comfortably on her sofa, cradling the coffee. “I have to respect your strength. Putting up with Soldier Boy every day.”

You cracked a smile, sipping the steaming coffee. “He was a… acquired taste.” Your laugh was breathy and quiet, thinking back to Ben and his unique personality. “What happened in Nicaragua?”

Grace sighed as she settled back. She was pretty. No doubt Ben tried to get in her pants while he was there. “It happened quickly.” Your brows furrowed, sitting forward, elbows on your knees. “We were ambushed. Your team couldn’t find their guns from their asses.”

“Sounds about right.” You murmured. “I told Ben he needed me out there. The stubborn dick wouldn’t listen. Looks like it bit him in the ass, eh?”

“Big time.” Grace agreed. “There was an explosion. It knocked me out.” You listened attentively, frequently sipping the coffee. “When I came to… your team were in ruins. Half of ‘em were dead, the other half injured.”

You chewed your lips for a few beats. “Black Noir still hasn’t recovered. Doctors said he’ll never be able to talk again.”

Solemn, she nodded. “Not surprised. His face was more hole than it was skin.” You grimaced at the imagery. “Crimson Countess told me Soldier Boy was dead. He’d been killed by some… laser, his body taken by a helicopter.”

“And that’s it?”

“That’s it.”

You sat back. “Huh.” You murmured. “She’s lying.” You decided. The story wasn’t right. Sure, it was feasible, under different circumstances. But, in battle? When Ben was on his A-game? No way.

Grace looked confused. After all, why would Crimson lie about something like that?

You didn’t know.

But you were going to fucking find out.

━━━━━━ ✦ ━━━━━━

That night, you didn’t return to your room. Instead, you slipped into Ben’s in the dead of night. It hadn’t been touched since he left for Nicaragua. Since he’d railed you against the mattress and left you bed-bound for two days.

The air was musty, with dust covering each surface. Crawling onto the bed, you tugged open the curtains, letting sunlight in for the first time in months.

Every surface was covered in dust. And there were still drugs laid about. Half snorted lines of cocaine on the coffee table. Empty pill bottles decorating the floor. An ash tray that reeked of marijuana. God, this man had been like a teenage boy.

Flicking on the light, you gathered your bravery, and spent a few hours cleaning his room up. You didn’t know why. Maybe you wanted to feel closer to him. Feel like you were doing something for him. Ben hated it when things were messy. And he loved it when you cleaned up after him. You hated feeding into that old, sexist mindset he had.

But, god, you’d do anything right now to hear him demand you fetch him a drink.

After you cleaned his room, you stripped his sheets, gagging at the old stain. Definitely your cum. And his. Gross. You stuffed it into a basket, kicking it away from you.

Okay… remember to not touch that again without gloves.

As you finished the last, final touches, a glint of metal on his bedside table caught your attention. Curious, you padded over, expecting a pistol.

Instead, you found a chain.

Your heart leapt into your throat. Delicately, you placed the necklace in the palm of your hand, brushing your thumb over the metal surface.

His WW2 dog tags.

Swallowing thickly, you blinked back your emotion. Why the fuck were even so sad? You weren’t even dating the man. Sure, you’d been his friend for years. You’d been protecting him. He’d been protecting you. You’d been his right-hand man practically.

But, still!

With a lump in your throat, you carefully placed the dog tags over your head. The dog tags were cold against your chest. You tucked them under your shirt, inhaling shakily.

With one last look around the room, you turned around and walked out, with a basket of laundry balanced on your hip.

You weren’t going to rest until you found out the truth. That was for sure.

A/N: sorry for the lack of soldier boy in this chap :( he makes his grand return next chapter !!! in all his sexist glory lmao. he’s so fun to write, tho i do feel like a horrible person writing some of the shit he says. definitely fun to explore this universe and all its fucked up possibilities. thank you guys for the support on chap one :’) <3 next chap will also be longer promise

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TAGLIST: @onlyangel-444 @deans-spinster-witch @fumolemon @anundyingfidelity @mostlymarvelgirl @aaronhotchnerlover @delaynew @let-me-luve-you @yvonneeeee @livsh20 @thej2report @lostin-jensenseyes

#soldier boy #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy x you #soldier boy x female reader #the boys #the boys tv #jensen ackles #jensen ackles x reader #half of me

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moonlit-void-to-the-far-unknown · 3 months ago

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As much as I hated the Lila/five pairing just on character stand points and the fact five and Lila would honestly never do that to Diego, like come on, but like if Ritu Arya was looking at me and laughing like she did in the like montage of them moving through the timelines and was trying to make the best of it by being excited about gumballs, I would end up falling in love with her just as fast as five did. Like we would all fold and fall in love with her in like .2 seconds. And don’t you even try to deny it, look at this beautiful woman and tell me you wouldn’t be heart eyes at her

Now my opinions on how they could have done their whole thing below:

Do I wish they had made it a ‘brother-sister companionship, as two people who truly get what the other has been through and are each others wobbly support system’ yes that would have been amazing, maybe give five a long term girlfriend in the 6 years, one who he’s having trouble connecting with because he’s been through 3 end of the worlds and 45 years alone and then the commission stuff. And in the 7 years Lila and five are trying to get home, they both connect with the other on how they feel about it all and five helps Lila understand Diego more by explaining why he is the way he is, and Lila helps five understand how to open up to his partner, and sure if you want them to kiss for whatever reason, make it like a

“Yeah that was weird right? I thought it was like a thing we had but yeah let’s never speak of this, and we do not tell Diego, I don’t need him trying to stab you” and then have a lil laugh session. And maybe five hides the notebook cause he kind of likes the life in the greenhouse but the fight is more

“I have children who need me! You have a girlfriend who loves you! We have to try.” And five being so tired of the running to save the world gets on the train, goes home but as they blink to the house five wants to go back to that peaceful world, of no running of safety in a bubble. The whole explanation of they were lost for 7 years happens, five maybe is still a bit of a dick because like emotions and things. We learn what’s happening with Ben and Jennifer.

The whole store fight happens

Maybe he takes his partner maybe he doesn’t but he ends up blinking back to the subway platform again and then we get the meeting with the other fives, we understand that the end has to be a full sacrifice of the siblings.

Five returns to the hotel, and everything continues, Lila and fives partner go to the subway, but both of them get off at the last minute. And five finds them and his partner who has been with the siblings this whole time or most of the time just shrugs cause five is what she wants and she doesn’t wanna be in a timeline unable to remember him, idk you can make something up but they all go back to the hotel, and the ending happens, but five holds his partners hand and she just smiles at him as they are erased from everything, and yeah would it be a little odd? Sure.

But it would be better then what they ended up doing which was five hurts his brother and dies feeling alone and used.

They could have had five and Lila end up romantic but turned it into something different. And they realize it’s not a thing they ever wanted really it’s more they were stuck together for so long emotions got a little hazy.

Give five someone, but don’t give him someone who is already someone else’s entire heart.

Diego and Lila have 3 kids together *4 if you count Stanley as a figurative son*

Five deserved his own person, like Luther deserved to have sloane, and Allison deserved to have Ray, Viktor deserved more time with sissy, and Klaus with Dave. You don’t have to pass one around to the others just because she’s still there. You can give us a new person for five. It’s not even the weirdest thing this show has ever done -Klaus having a cult cough cough-

They had a way to do this, and they just picked the worst timeline train to stop on.

#the umbrella academy #five hargreeves #adian gallagher #lila hargreeves #diego hargreeves #lila pitts #the brellies #brellies #five hargreaves x reader #five hargreeves x reader #season 4 #tua s4 #tua season 4 #umbrella acedmy #viktor hargreeves #allison hargreeves #klaus hargreeves #sloane hargreeves #luther hargreeves

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ofstarsandvibranium · 5 months ago

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Precious Truths: Part 10

Fandom: Bridgerton

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x F!Reader

Summary: After your father finds out you’ve been writing under a male pseudonym, he threatens to marry you off to an atrocious man unless you find yourself a husband within a month’s time.

A/N: a short one, but i hope it still gives the feelings i was trying to capture. enjoy!

Series Masterlist

Weddings are meant to be a joyous occasion. A ceremony to celebrate the unity of two people. However, Benedict Bridgerton, isn't feeling joyous at all. Rather, somber...melancholic...heartbroken. Today, he gets to see you walk down the aisle but it isn't him waiting for you at the end of it. Marquess James Montclair is a man of status and wealth. Not only that, he is kind, compassionate, and accepts you for who you are.

Benedict couldn't have wished for anyone more perfect for you.

However, he still wishes it was him that could have given you everything. And because of his never-ending love for you, he's come to a hard decision.

_________________________________

You're looking at yourself one last time in the mirror. The veil you have chosen falls over your back. The dress you and Aunt Eliza worked on turned out so well. As it should since Aunt Eliza paid Madame Delacroix handsomely for it.

Nearly a month ago, your life had changed. You didn't know for the better, at the time, but as you became more familiar with James, you knew you will be okay.

Regardless, that still didn't stop the wedding jitters. Just moments ago, Aunt Eliza had informed you of what happens on the night of one's wedding. You were nervous about that, rightfully so. But you were also sure that James would be kind when it comes time to it.

Now, you're trying to muster up the courage to walk out that door to head to the church.

You hear a knock at the door and you call out, "Just a few more moments, Aunt Eliza!"

The door opens and in the reflection, you see Benedict. You immediately turn to face him, "Ben!"

He stands at the door looking stunned, his eyes wandering over your wedding dress, "You-You look beautiful."

You smile, "Thank you," you tilt your head curiously, "Is something wrong?"

"No, I-I just wanted to speak with you," he clenches his fists at his side, "I'm leaving for France."

Your brows furrow in confusion, "When?"

"...now."

"Now?" you ask him disbelief, "Benedict, it is my wedding day!"

"Which is why I am leaving," he says with heartbreak, "I cannot watch you marry another man. I cannot stand there and witness you declare yourselves to one another not when....not when it should have been me there with you."

Your breath hitches when you realize what Benedict is saying to you. A part of you is elated to know that Benedict has held the same affections for you, and another part of you, a much bigger, stronger part of you, is angry. Angry that he should have told you his feelings years ago. Angry that you and he could have been married already and living happy in love. Angry that he finally decided to tell you this before you marry another man.

"Why? Why didn't you say anything sooner? Why didn't-We could have-"

Benedict, seeing your distress, rushes up to you and takes your hands in his, "Listen to me. I love you, Y/N. Truly. Deeply. Wholeheartedly. But I am not enough for you. I cannot give you the life you deserve. I am but a second son. The marquess is what you deserve."

Tears are running down your cheeks as you look at Benedict, "You are so much more than that. I told you-"

"I know. I am forever grateful of your support and friendship."

"Benedict, I love you. I have always loved you and now you're leaving?How can you expect me to go out there and marry James now? After everything you've just told me?"

"Because you have to. Darling, it's because I love you that I am doing this. I am letting you go."

"No, you are running away!"

Benedict lets out a deep breath, leans in and kisses your forehead, "I truly hope you will be happy with him, Y/N. I love you." his hands slip out of yours and you watch him in heartbreak as he exits the room without looking back.

______________

When Benedict steps out of the room, Aunt Eliza is there waiting with a look of sympathy in her eyes.

"It is admirable what you are doing, Mister Bridgerton."

He wipes the tears from his eyes, "Am I doing the right thing?"

"It may not feel like it right now, but I am certain this is how everything should be. I wish you all the success, Mister Bridgerton."

With a nod, Benedict rushes down the steps to leave. France is waiting.

_____________________

After fixing up your makeup and taking slow, deep breaths, you waltzed out of your room with determination.

Aunt Eliza has a neutral expression, "Ready?"

You give her a smile and a nod, "Yes."

She escorts you out to the carriage where you father is waiting. He's been in better spirits lately. Primarily due to James paying a larger dowery to get him out of debt. You didn't want him too, having resented your father for the position he's put you in, but James did it with the insurance that your Aunt will have full control of the money. So that made you more at ease.

"I'm proud of you, Y/N. Your mother would be proud of you," your father says with a cocky grin.

You clench your jaw and give a polite smile, "Thank you, father."

The ride to the church is much shorter than you remember. People are already waiting inside for you. Your aunt steps out and then your father. He holds out his hand to you as you step out.

Aunt Eliza hands you your bouquet and you link your arm with your father's.

The church door opens and everyone stands. Your breath hitches when you see James waiting for you at the end of the aisle. He looks handsome in his dark blue velvet suit. The sun peaking through the church windows shines down, making his dark skin glow.

He stares at you with love in his eyes, his smile beaming as you walk closer and closer to him.

As you reach the end of the aisle, your father hands you to James. James gives a nod to your father and you follow him to stand before the bishop.

"Dearly beloved..."

You glance at James, your hand still in his. Feeling your eyes on him, he looks your way with a smile. He winks and squeezes your hand. The anger and sadness you felt earlier eases to a dull pain. Benedict has left you. He has let you go.

It's time you do the same.

#benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton imagine #benedict bridgerton x reader #bridgerton imagine #benedict bridgerton fic #f!reader #fem!reader #female!reader

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cabaretbabe · 21 days ago

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in retrospect, after rewatching and coming back to s4/5, it's very noticeable that the writers were setting up sawyer and juliet. like, maybe from her introduction??

as a kid, (thats how long ive been a fan lmfao) when lafleur premiered i found their pairing to be sudden and a little jarring. but really paying attention to their character arcs (and also just growing up), it's obvious it couldn't have been anything but them.

sawyer spent the first half of his story fighting personal growth at every turn because he believed he didnt deserved good things. and kate, as much as i adore my girl, didnt provide much of an alternative as she felt the same way. she ran from any affection and stability and as a result reinforced sawyer's belief that love was not something he was designed for. she played him like he played others and while it was definitely karmic, he took that as a further sign that pushing people away was the only way to protect himself from his feelings. and when he had the chance to reach out to kate and change things in s3 and s5 he hesistated, because he knew she was never his to begin with.

now bring in juliet, someone who spent her whole life catering to the needs of others while being deprived of her own. someone who has had her agency stripped away by the second man in her life that's exploited her kindness and brains for his own benefit. and she meets jack, and does all shes ever known. she plays the role that he (and ben) want her to even though she knows he loves kate and will always pick her over juliet, because thats who she is at heart. she gives to others what she can't have. in her mind, she also doesnt feel like its in the cards for her. her sister is the only true love she's ever known and that too was stolen from her. she's accepted that she'll keep giving, and never get it in return.

and youd think at first, these two people won't work together. cant work together. sawyer is an asshole who lashes out , who hurts people before they can hurt him, while juliet does the opposite. she's incredibly kind and strong and giving but suffering just as deeply.

and that's just it. juliet is to sawyer what he is to her: an equal. she sees him. really truly sees past his bullshit. she meets him and he's james immediately, because she doesn't buy the act. the cutting remarks, the sarcasm, that's his hurt on full display and it resonates deeply. she encourages him to express his emotions; to talk honestly about how kate has hurt him because jack hurt her too and she gets it. she sees the scared little kid in him and she nurtures that, pushing him to grow and genuinely take care of himself. she wants james, not sawyer, for the first time in his whole life.

and in return he chooses /her/, too. not for what she can provide for him, not as a savior or a doctor or an other, but as a human being who deserves safety and security, and flowers. he holds her trauma; embracing her strength and wit and how she challenges him every day. he loves that she banters with him back until he starts self-deprecating and she calls him on it, because she knows he can do better. he adores her candor. they hold each other accountable and ride for each other and build a life together that neither believed they'd ever get. and even in the end they're terrified of losing each other when the losties return, because they believed they were intrinsically not meant for happiness. that's why their relationship is fated and so beautiful.

because they will always, always have each others back.

#lost #abc lost #lost 2004 #lost spoilers #suliet #sawyer x juliet #james ford #juliet burke #kate austen #jack shephard #lost tv series #lost tv show #lost analysis #i definitely didnt make myself cry writing this 🫠#mine

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dovesdreaming · 2 months ago

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Wish upon a hook

Summary: You couldn’t grant peoples wishes like your mother could but you always asked them what there wish was. Little did you know you were Harry hooks wish.

A/N: thank you so much for 400 followers! <3

Request

Masterlist

Being the daughter of the Blue Fairy came with certain expectations. People saw you as a beacon of hope and kindness, a gentle spirit who brought light into the darkest places. Your mother had instilled in you the importance of using your magic to help others, to grant wishes and make the world a better place, one act of kindness at a time.

In Auradon, you were known for your generosity. You didn’t have your mother’s full power to grant any wish, but you had a special kind of magic of your own. You could help people find what they truly needed, whether it was a little encouragement, a moment of comfort, or sometimes, something more tangible. You were always willing to listen, always there to help. But even with all your light, there was one place your magic had never reached, the Isle of the Lost. When King Ben announced the integration of the Isle kids into Auradon, you had been one of the few who were genuinely excited. You’d heard so many stories of how terrible the children of villains were supposed to be, but you didn’t believe in judging people by their parents. Everyone deserved a chance to find their own path, to make their own wishes come true. You were determined to help them, even if no one else did. Which was how you found yourself face-to-face with Harry Hook.

It was a sunny afternoon at Auradon Prep, and you were taking a break by the fountain, enjoying the sound of the water as it splashed down into the pool below. The students were bustling about, and there was a sense of excitement in the air with the arrival of the Isle kids. You noticed them scattered around, their expressions wary and uncertain, like they didn’t quite belong. Your heart went out to them. They looked so out of place, and you couldn’t help but wish there was something you could do to make them feel more at home. That was when you saw him.

Harry Hook was leaning against the wall, his usual swagger evident even as he stood still. His coat hung loosely from his shoulders, and his hook glinted in the sunlight as he watched the other students with a smirk. He looked so different from everyone else, like he was daring them to say something, to judge him. You knew about Harry. People whispered about him, warned you to stay away from him and his dangerous ways. But you didn’t see danger when you looked at him. You saw someone who had been dealt a rough hand and was just trying to find his way in a place that seemed to resent him for even existing. So, naturally, you decided to approach him.

With a deep breath, you made your way over, your blue dress swaying slightly as you walked. Harry noticed you immediately, his eyes narrowing in suspicion as you stopped a few feet away from him. “Hello” you said, offering him a gentle smile. “I’m [Y/N]”. Harry raised an eyebrow, his hook tapping against his side. “Aye, I know who ye are”. His voice was thick with his Scottish accent, and there was a hint of curiosity behind the wariness. “Ye’re the Blue Fairy’s lass, aren’t ye?”. You nodded, your smile not faltering. “That’s right. I’m glad to finally meet you, Harry”. He scoffed, his smirk returning as he crossed his arms. “Are ye now? And what would a lass like ye want with someone like me?”. You shrugged, unbothered by his attitude. “I just wanted to say hello. I know it must be difficult, being here. It’s a lot to get used to”.

Harry’s smirk faded a little, and he eyed you suspiciously. “Ye think I need yer pity?”, “Not at all” you replied softly. “I think you’re strong enough to handle anything. But that doesn’t mean it’s easy”. He looked at you for a long moment, like he was trying to figure out what game you were playing. But when he couldn’t find any trace of mockery or pity in your eyes, his expression softened just slightly. “And what would ye know about it, lass?” he asked, his voice quieter, almost thoughtful. You tilted your head, considering your words carefully. “Maybe not much” you admitted. “But I know that everyone has wishes, things they want more than anything. And I try to help, whenever I can”. Harry’s eyes gleamed with something unreadable. “Wishes, eh? Ye think ye can grant wishes?” “Not like my mother can@ you said with a small laugh. “But sometimes, just listening, just trying to help, is enough”.

He looked at you, really looked at you, as if he couldn’t quite believe you were real. You could almost see the gears turning in his mind, like he was deciding whether to trust you or not. Finally, he let out a short laugh, shaking his head. “Yer a strange one, lass. Kindness like yers, it’s dangerous on the Isle”. You smiled softly. “We’re not on the Isle anymore, Harry”. His gaze flickered, a shadow passing over his eyes. “Aye, but the Isle’s still in us”. There was a depth in his words, a pain that you could feel even without him saying more. It made your heart ache for him, for all of them. You wished you could take that pain away, could make things better with a wave of your hand. But that wasn’t how your magic worked. Instead, you did what you could. You stepped closer, looking up at him with earnest eyes. “Is there anything I can do for you, Harry? Anything you wish for?”

He stared at you, his eyes searching your face like he was looking for something he wasn’t sure he’d find. And then, with a smirk that was both teasing and serious, he leaned down, his face inches from yours. “Aye, lass” he murmured, his voice a low rumble. “There is somethin I would like. It’s my secret for now ask me again in a few months”. His eyes sparkled with mischief and with that he turned to walk away only looking back to smirk at your confused expression. What had you gotten yourself into?

After a few months of the isle kids being at Auradon you had grown close to a few of them, one in particular being none other than Harry hook. He had become a good friend, someone you could rely on in moments of need. You would have never expected to have become so close to him after all the whispers you had heard about him, yet here you were. Friends with Harry and wishing you could make him like you back. Alas you would settle for whatever he gave you and if all that was is friendship, so be it.

You were sat down in the gardens under a tree with Harry having a lazy day in the sun when you remembered your first encounter and how he never answered your question. “Hey, Harry?” “Yes lass?” He slowly turned to you opening one eye. “You never answered my question. What do you wish for?” He stared at you before opening his other eye and readjusting his position so he was turned more towards you. He smirked before easily saying “I want you”. You blinked, your heart skipping a beat as his words sank in. “I’m sorry, what?” Harry’s grin widened, and he straightened up, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Ye heard me. I want ye”.

You felt your cheeks heat up, and you tried to gather your thoughts, stumbling over your words. “Harry, I-I don’t think that’s… what I meant”. He chuckled, clearly enjoying your flustered reaction. “Oh, I know, lass. But ye asked, and I answered”. You stared at him, your mind racing. Was he serious? Was he teasing? You couldn’t tell, and it was driving you crazy. “You can’t just… say things like that!” you finally managed, your voice coming out more breathless than you intended. Harry shrugged, looking entirely too pleased with himself. “Why not? It’s the truth. I want ye, [Y/N]. Been my wish since I saw ye that day”. Your heart was pounding in your chest, and you couldn’t look away from him, from the way he was looking at you like you were the only thing that mattered.

“I… I don’t know what to say,” you whispered. He reached out with his hook, gently lifting your chin so you were forced to meet his gaze. His eyes were serious now, the teasing glint gone as he spoke. “Ye don’t have to say anythin’, lass. Just think about it”. He released you from the prison of his gaze. Moving back with a small, almost shy smile before standing up. “I’ll be around, if ye ever decide to grant that wish”. And with that, he turned and walked away, leaving you sitting under the willow tree, your heart racing and your mind spinning.

You had been having a care free day but somehow, Harry Hook had turned your world upside down with just a few words. And for the first time in your life, you found yourself having your own wish granted. Something, or rather, someone you’d never expected. As your mind finally caught up to what had happened you realised you had to catch up to Harry before he got too far away.

Thank you for reading!

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porcelainseashore · 2 months ago

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Coffee & Secrets (6)

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Rookie Cop! Leon x Barista! Fem! Reader

Summary: As a cozy coffee shop owner in Raccoon City, you’re no stranger to visitors seeking comfort, quiet, and warmth. When a rookie officer named Leon finds a kindred spirit in you, it sets in motion a chain of events that forever changes the course of your lives. An alternate universe set in Resident Evil 2 Remake and inspired by the game Coffee Talk.

Content & Warnings: Canon divergence, coffee shops, romance, slow burn, strangers to lovers, idiots in love, fluff, slice of life, swearing

Author's Note: We’re nearing the end of this series! Thank you to everyone on here for your support, especially in the comments and reblogs. This will probably be my last Leon fic for a while. Sometimes it felt like I was writing into the void and it was a little disheartening, but I started to realise that I need a change of scenery and explore writing through other fandoms.

AO3 Link

Chapter 6: Full Circle

“Am I looking at the new Chief of Police?”

You cracked a grin as Marvin graced your shop clad in his shiny new outfit and badge that made him look almost regal. Gold stripes and stars lined the cuffs and epaulets of his navy blue jacket. He removed his elegantly embroidered peaked cap, tucking it under his arm as he rubbed his buzz cut. And there he was again, the same old Marvin that you knew.

“You sure are.” He winked, reflecting your grin before a minor shadow loomed over his face. “Can’t say the circumstances I got promoted in were the most pleasant though.”

Laying your hand on his shoulder, you gave it a firm, supportive squeeze. “Everyone knows you deserve this, Marv. You’ll do great.”

“Aww, look what you’ve done! Making me cry all over my nice suit like that,” he emitted a low chuckle, his voice cracking up as he patted your hand. Wiping away a stray tear from his waterline, he cleared his throat and pulled up a chair at the counter.

“So, what can I get for the man of the hour?”

“You know me, I’m a creature of habit,” he affirmed.

You caught the drift, your hands already busying themselves as if they had a mind of their own. “Something gingery.”

The kettle whistled as steam rushed through its spout. Taking it off the stove, you poured it over a mixture of the fresh ginger and turmeric root you had diced up. You allowed it to steep for a while before adding in the jasmine tea leaves. Finally, you strained it into a tea cup garnished with the flower petals.

“Your celebratory drink—Golden Dawn.”

“I can already tell I’m gonna love it.” Marvin lifted the cup to his lips, blowing on it lightly before drinking it sip by sip.

“Nice music too,” he added, bobbing his head along to one of the tunes on the stereo. “This what you kids listen to these days?”

Over the next hour, you engaged in lighthearted chatter until it came to the never ending squabble of who would pay—or not. As always, you won, telling the older man to accept the gift and enjoy some quality time with his wife and daughters.

As Marvin prepared to leave, Ben and Claire coincidentally came through the door. All three of them stopped dead in their tracks, tensing up as they eyed each other awkwardly.

It was Ben who broke the silence, extending his hand as he said, “Congratulations, Branagh. I mean it.”

And he truly did. There was not a note of insincerity in the man’s tone.

At this, Marvin smiled, giving Ben a cordial handshake. “Thanks, Bertolucci. Guess I’ll be seeing you around, though hopefully not on my case,” he joked.

That elicited a roar of laughter from Ben. “I go where the story leads me, Chief.”

“You really are the devil in disguise,” Marvin noted wryly. “Well, I’mma head off, so have a good evening.”

“Bertolucci. Redfield,” he acknowledged, tipping his cap to the two before giving you a final wave as he exited the shop.

“Drinks on me,” Ben declared, smacking the counter table with his palm.

You raised an eyebrow. “Wouldn’t a bar have been a better choice?”

“Yeah, we’re headed there after,” he confirmed. “Just had to patronize the place that fueled all my sleepless nights first.”

“I read the article by the way,” you mentioned in passing as you got to work. “It was very well-written and fair.”

“Facts, you can’t go wrong with facts,” he clarified. “I don’t sensationalize.”

“You could’ve been scathing, but you didn’t. That’s an active choice,” you pointed out.

The article had identified several instances of corruption and gross misconduct that the previous chief had been involved in, but in a relatively neutral tone. It also ended on a more positive and optimistic note, creating hope for the future of the RPD.

“Heh, well,” he shrugged, pressing against the bridge of his spectacles as he gave you a coy smile. “Maybe I am getting soft.”

Turning to Claire, he noted, “You’re quiet today, Red. You should be celebrating, kid.”

“Mmm,” she responded with mild disinterest, though you could see her glancing at the shop’s entrance every now and then.

“I didn’t have shot glasses, so I used your favorite—espresso cups,” you teased, placing the two orders on the table. “These should make good pre-drinks.”

“What’s in it?” Ben asked skeptically, unused to anything other than his trusty coffee.

“Let’s just say a combination of lemon, olive oil and cinnamon. I added some other flavorings to make it more palatable,” you explained. “Prevents hangovers.”

Swirling the liquid, he pinched his lips together and remarked, “Guess it wouldn’t hurt. Bet it’s got one of those hippy names too?”

“Grandma’s Cure.”

“Hah! That’s a good one!” he exclaimed, taking a swig from his demitasse.

There was a short pause before he gave his verdict, “Hmm! Not bad… not bad at all.”

However, Claire still left hers untouched and her mind appeared to be elsewhere.

“Hey, you okay?” you asked out of concern.

Claire shook herself out of her thoughts, stumbling over her words, “Y-yeah, shit, I’m sorry.”

Consuming the drink as quickly as possible, she thumped the cup back onto the counter, cleaning her mouth with the back of her hand. Fortuitously, your next customer who came through the door appeared to be the one she was looking for.

“Leon?”

The young officer froze, swallowing nervously as he stared at her. “Claire.”

You and Ben exchanged looks as you tilted your head in the direction of the exit, indicating to him to give them some space. He nodded discreetly in response, understanding what you were getting at.

Immediately, he stood up with a grunt and clapped Claire on the back. “Alright, Red, I’ll make a headstart first and you can join me at Jack’s Bar when you’re ready.”

With that, he placed some cash on the table, casually saluting you before making his way out.

Claire wasted no time getting to the crux of the matter. “That anonymous tip—it was you, wasn’t it?”

Slumping down on the seat beside her, Leon conceded, “Yeah, you got me.”

“I shouldn’t have pressured you into it, I’m sorry,” she blurted out.

“No, you wanted to do the right thing,” he sympathized. “I was so caught up in an ideal that never existed, I forgot about that.”

“It was decent of you to get Bertolucci to hold off on publishing the article until Irons stepped down,” he continued. “At least it was less of a blow to the department as a whole.”

“Still, the way I treated you was uncalled for,” she argued. “You’re a good friend, Leon, I…” her voice cracked.

“Sometimes, people say things because they’re hurt,” he mentioned, giving you a knowing look.

You smiled back, acknowledging the very same advice you had given him when you first met.

“Pals?” He stuck out his palm.

“What are you, twelve?” she scoffed. Breaking into a dazzling grin, she grasped his hand as though they were sealing a pact. “Pals.”

“Care for another?” you offered, presenting the drinks you had crafted up on the side.

Claire’s eyes twinkled. “Don’t mind if we do.”

Sherry arrived soon after, instantly taking to the redhead like an older sister. Eventually, Claire went off to join Ben, promising to return for a proper goodbye before leaving to finish her semester.

“How was school?” you asked, scooping yet another dollop of whipped cream into Sherry’s drink upon her instructions. She could be quite assertive when she wanted to be.

“Good…” she hummed. “Made a friend.”

“That’s awesome!” Leon commended.

“Oh, and no one dares to touch me, ’cause I told them you’ll kick their ass,” she added.

“Wait, what?” he guffawed, but she suddenly had the urge to use the bathroom and scurried off.

“Impossible,” he huffed as you snickered.

Leaning on your elbows over the counter, you addressed him, “Not that I don’t ask you this every day, but anything new with you?”

“Well, apart from the stuff with Claire and the RPD, it turned out that the background checks on the suspicious lady in red came up clean,” he reported.

“Wow, Kevin must be pissed.”

“You don’t say. Wesker kinda just lets her through too. The whole thing just screams trouble to me,” he admitted. “Guess you win some, you lose some.”

“Anyway, speaking of Kevin, he told me to pass you this.” Chucking a folded letter on the table, his icy blue eyes watched you like a hawk as an unreadable expression formed on his face.

“Huh, looks like everyone’s doing the rounds today,” you muttered, opening the paper to read its contents.

A telephone number was written down in bold black marker, followed by a “CALL ME ;)”

Your shoulders trembled as you burst out laughing, shaking your head in disbelief. That guy had some nerve for pulling off such a stunt, unless…

“You gonna?” Leon quizzed, and you swore you could sense a hint of jealousy in his voice.

“Whaddya think?” you smirked, closing the gap as your nose nudged against his.

His eyes fluttered, and he sucked in a sharp breath. You felt his lips barely graze yours until—

“So… are you, like, boyfriend and girlfriend?”

All at once, you were back at square one, Leon having hastily distanced himself away from you as Sherry stared at the two of you inquisitively.

“Yes—no. I mean, no?” Leon stuttered, his cheeks burning crimson as he rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.

You let out a frustrated sigh, deciding to leave them to their devices for the moment while you counted stock in the cabinets. At some point, Sherry wanted to go home and Leon took it upon himself to drive her back.

As you said your good nights, to your surprise, Leon wrapped his arms around your waist, dragging you in for a spontaneous embrace. “We’ll talk about this soon—about us,” he whispered into your hair.

Soon could not come soon enough.

Dividers by @cafekitsune

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy #leon kennedy fluff #coffee shop au #re2 leon #re2 remake #resident evil 2 #resident evil #fic: coffee & secrets #porcelainscribbles

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angsthology · 11 months ago

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“and this is...?” — or an alt title: secret santa time (and maybe santa’s secret too?)

it’s that time of the year!

a/n hehe this was fun to write and i had more fun looking for gifts for her

THE KANGAROO VS. THE WORLD

“who is it?” the interviewer asked, trying to read the expression on the driver’s face as she reads the small piece of paper.

she nods with satisfaction, turning the paper around to face the camera. on it read: oscar piastri.

“i’m actually alright with this.”

“yeah?”

“yeah, i feel like i could do this. i’m happy with this.”

“would you consider yourself and oscar close?”

the driver made a face in thought before she spoke, “uh—not really. i mean, if i’m being honest, i haven’t really been that great of a person this entire year—like, i’m just going to say this, cause, y’know, it’s not really a secret, everyone’s noticed it: i’ve been pretty distant from everyone so really, i haven’t exactly took the time to get to know this year’s rookies, especially oscar.” she paused, mulling over everything she just said, “why did i feel like i just ended up oversharing?”

she chuckled awkwardly before (still very much awkwardly) leaving—she bowed her head slightly, for some reason.

“okay, i was definitely way ahead of myself.”

the younger girl looks up from her textbook to see her friend flopping down on the single couch on her front left, huffing then turn towards her.

“help me.” she said, then noticing the large textbook in her hand, giving her a judgy look, “what the hell are you doing? it’s winter break.”

daisy-mae rolled her eyes, “for you, yeah, me; i still gotta suffer for a couple more weeks.” then remembering something, “actually—no, you’re in this too!”

she shrugged meekly, eyes turning downward avoiding her friend’s slowly death-turning glare.

“no!” the brown-haired girl whined in disbelief.

“yeah—”

“dude!”

“sorry, chee.”

“you graduated early?!”

“i’m sorry, okay! they offered me and by proper calculations it was the better option! i was dying enough already this year i needed to at least let go of one weight!”

daisy-mae scoffed, “is there anything you can’t do?”

from across the room came a snort, “math.”

the racer pointed at her standing friend in agreement.

“whatever.” she huffed, going back into her book. “—congratulations. can’t believe you didn’t tell me.”

“i didn’t see the big deal.”

oh now she really brought her out.

at that, daisy-mae abandons her textbook and faced her friend, “are you kidding me?! you graduated university all-the-while being a very busy athlete? it’s more than important! we could’ve celebrated!”

roo couldn’t help but smile at her best friend. she truly didn’t deserve her.

nika, unbothered to the previous conversation, walked over with an open tub of ben and jerry’s and flopped down next to where daisy-mae sat on the large couch.

“we’re getting off topic here—”

“dude! that’s my last one!”

ignoring the flat-owner’s complaint, she continued after a spoonful of the ice cream, “—so, piastri?”

at that, roo covered her face and groaned loudly.

“so dramatic.” commented nika, grabbing another spoon, “he is australian, correct?” by now the racer had moved seats and snuggled herself next to the last spot on nika’s right on the couch—the three of them now smushed together on the same couch.

“yeah, so?” she replied, taking the spoon off of her friend’s hand and grabbing one bite of her own.

“get him a big jar of vegemite or something,” she says as she swallows her ice cream and snatching the spoon back from roo.

the latter blinked, the girl on the other side of the couch stopped in her tracks too, both of them then slowly turning their head to look at the girl in the middle happily scooping another spoonful.

roo then moved her eyes to look at daisy-mae instead, “is it bad that i’m considering that as an option?”

“a little.”

then, out of the blue, the racer’s eyes widened in revelation and without saving another word she bolted off the couch into the corridor into all the rooms. leaving nika and daisy-mae to stare at each other in confusion.

minutes later, she came back holding a basket of her (daisy-mae’s) crochet supplies.

the two girls paid her no mind as they all went back to their own things.

“tada!”

nika, unable to hold it in, accidentally let a squeak escape her.

roo’s shoulders slumped at that, her expression falling to an unamused one. “you’re the worst.”

“i’m sorry, i’m sorry! it’s cute! seriously,” then she burst out a little (big) laugh, “like a toddler had made that.”

“alright,” still very much unamused, she dropped the attempted kangaroo crochet in her hand to her side then moving to walk away.

atticus, ever the great friend he is, walked over to her front and grabbed both her shoulders affectionately, “it’s okay, it really is cute. it’s the thought that counts.”

“sunny, i assure you, no one wants my thought.” she countered, walking away towards the couch. “may as well order that vegemite now.” she grumbled, sitting next to the cat and dog happily snuggling on her couch. petting the cat, she complained once more, “i don’t get it, i can literally crochet anything else but a kangaroo? i’m the kangaroo.”

confused, nika furrowed her eyebrows—now sitting comfortably on the couch next to her friend, “the hell does that gotta do with anything?”

“it means that, if i’m the kangaroo and i can’t crochet a kangaroo what does that mean for myself—like, do i even know myself?”

the other three in the room blinked, looking at each other as if the other would have an answer.

alas, nika was the first to comment, giving the racer a judgy—and confused still—look, “you just gave me an aneurysm. look; it means nothing, okay? just because you have a psychology degree now does not mean you gotta overanalyze everything, seriously.”

taken aback, she looks at her friend, “have i really been doing that?”

“yes. now just wrap the damn gift.”

“wow.” the australian opened the paper bag and grabbed the first thing he saw. holding it up with his hands, he inspects it closely, “this is…” he trailed off, still looking at the item in his hands, “—what is this?” he chuckled awkwardly asking the person behind the camera.

they couldn’t help but laugh too, though much more genuine, less confused, “i think it’s a kangaroo.”

he paused. inspect it once more before looking back at the camera, “—you think?”

in response, they just shrugged.

oscar, still in doubt, stares at the deformed plush of sorts for another good minutes before moving on.

his face unchanged in its usual flat state, though his eyes gave away the slight shift in his mood when he pulled out the large yellow jar of vegemite out of the paper bag.

showing the logo to the camera, he says while dead-staring into the camera (again), “very nice. thank you to—whoever.”

“can you guess who it’s from?”

still inspecting it—though now trying to figure out who it’s from rather than trying to figure out what it is, he looks back into the camera and tried to guess her name first.

and to his surprise (but also not really), “it is!”

“ohh, alright. i mean, i always thought she was someone who crochets but i never thought…” he wanted to finish his thought, he did, until he remembered that his actions has consequences and he isn’t exactly fond of facing the consequences.

“there’s a note,” the person informs.

oscar then looked into the paper bag once more, finding the said note. when he pulled it out, the small card had two cartoon dogs with reindeer ears on and a cat with a santa hat in the middle, below it says ‘meowry christmas!’ he chuckled at the cover then continue to open it.

“merry christmas, oscar! (or is it ‘aurscar’?),” he read then looking towards the camera, “that’s a first,” then he goes back to reading the card, “i promise i’m not this bad. i am actually very good at crocheting other things but i hope you like your gifts! love, me!” he finished reading and put the card down on the table in front of him, grabbing hold of the two gifts back up, he smiles, “thank you, for the gifts. i appreciate them especially the vegemite, i think. from one kangaroo to another.”

“are you excited?”

“very.” she says with a smile, hands ripping open the wrapping heartlessly.

she had already tried to guess what was inside, feeling a soft plush-like feeling underneath the crispy deer-patterned wrapping paper.

“how thoughtful of you,” her publicist comments sarcastically at her unwrapping skills.

ignoring her tone, she continues to break apart the paper, “why thank you, did you know how hard it was making oscar’s gift?” she paused her abuse on the wrapping paper to look at the camera—seriously? jokingly? no one knew.

finally, she was met with the gift(s) in hand. the first thing she saw being the large kitten plush inside of a wicker basket and she instantly recognize it.

“it’s the rock-a-bye kitten jellycat!” she exclaimed with the biggest smile on her face, showing off to the camera her large kitten in wicker basket. when she picked it up, she could feel the heaviness the basket carried—heavier than what a plush would weigh. her first instinct was to take the cat out of the basket and when she did, she couldn’t hold in the laughter that made its way to her lips. her smile was wide enough already before, the sight she was met with somehow made her smile bigger. she pulled it out and faced it to the camera, “guess we know who this is from,” she smiled goofily holding up the calendar with the white man’s ass on it.

still laughing, she puts the calendar down white a head shake, “thank you, valtteri! now i don’t need to find one for next year.”

when she thought she was done, the woman behind the camera informs, “there’s another one.”

“huh?” she looks at her confusedly before shuffling around the torn up pieces of paper on her lap. when she saw what was left in it was, her jaw dropped.

pulling them out, she puts at the camera, “new drumsticks!” she inspects the two pieces on her hand with a small smile, “ah! and it has my nickname on them too!” still pouting in disbelief she smiles at the camera, “this is so good. thank you, again, val, such great gifts.” then she remembered, “oh, right! the card! hold on,”

she shuffled for the card once more and open it happily, “‘dear, kid, merry christmas, i hope you have a great one, here’s some things i know you’d like and a little something for next year. always a pleasure working with you.’” she smiles looking as if she was holding back a cry and hugged the card to her chest.

she waves with a smile at the camera, “kiitos valtteri! hyvää joulua!”

(“thank you, valtteri! merry christmas to you!”)

bonus, 2022:

“so, who did you get?”

she smiles, “lando!”

“any idea what you’re going to give him?”

she pauses with a hum in thought, then a smile cracked in her lips. looking into the camera mischievously, “his first win, maybe.”

(she did not, in fact, got him that. she crocheted him a frog hat and one of those singing fish wall decoration.)

te1enovia

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tagged: daisymaerose, selvnika, and atticusingh

te1enovia merry christmas from ur resident racer girl, scholar girl, and jobless girl <3

(and my favorite boy 🤏)

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f1porsche merry christmas cuties 🎄☃️❄️✨️

liked by te1enovia

mickschumacher merry christmas!!

liked by te1enovia

atticusingh was the tag... to hurt my feelings?

selvnika atticusingh yes

te1enovia atticusingh nooo it just means u were there TO ME

schupastry te1enovia lovesick i tell you

backbiteroo schupastry DONT DO THAT. please. i need her to be single for ME

fiftyfivetexts sooooo.... are we gonna talk abot ur favorite boy??????

backbiteroo fiftyfivetexts its reggie please PLEASE

selvnika how DARE you

te1enovia selvnika yeah, i do

selvnika te1enovia i have power over ur sponsorship.

te1enovia selvnika ur father does. and he loves me more.

gaslytv te1enovia GET HER JADE

formulasos merry christmas to our favorite girlies!!!!!

f1porsche

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tagged: te1enovia and mickschumacher

f1porsche merry christmas from our team!!! <33 🎄☃️❄️✨️

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te1enovia YOU GUYSSS 🥹🥹🥹

f1porsche te1enovia 😋❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹

mickschumacher ☃️☃️

f1porsche mickschumacher ❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️❄️

taglist; @treehouse-mouse @disneyprincemuke @yansbolobao @leilanixx @judespoision @vellicora @bborra

#f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #formula one x reader #formula one #formula 1 x oc #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 x you #formula 1 x female reader #formula 1 #oscar piastri x reader #valtteri bottas #tine’s roo vs the world #christmas special

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couragehopelovefaith · 1 year ago

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I finally fell down the "Descendants"-rabbit hole (better late than never) and watched all three movies back to back. Here are my first thoughts that came to mind:

Maybe a controversial opinion, but the third one was the best in my eyes and the first one gets the last place, even though it has many wonderful moments too. (That being said, I deeply dislike the very last scene of the third movie, since even for a Disney-movie, everything seemed to be forgiven way too fast and easily.)

2. Say what you want about the movies, but the actors are very talented and dedicated and the songs are absolute bops that will hold up for a very long time.

3. I have never had more conflicted emotions about any protagonist than I have about Mal (I might make a separate post about it later, but others have explained it better than I could, so... :) ).

4. Evie would've been more fitting ruler, in my opinion.

4. My shipper-heart beats into so many directions, but I can't truly root for Ben and Mal. The way their love story began was shady (beautifully expressed) and they both had better connection and chemistry with so many other characters.

5. Ben was done so dirty multiple times, and I feel like he is very underrated.

6. Speaking of chemistry... Harry Hook seems to be Theo Raeken of the "Descendants"-universe - he has chemistry with literally anyone. A huge part of me loves Huma and wanted them to end up together, but the connection and sparks he, Gil and Jay have going on.. ;) I also wanted to know more about the obvious romantic past between Hook and Mal. (Hook seems to be one of my favorite characters in many fandoms, huh.)

7. The fact that they didn't make Malvie canon is a huge crime (nothing against Doug, though, he is a great guy).

8. Uma and Audrey deserved so much better, to be honest.

9. Carlos is such a wholesome and sweet bean, he deserves the world as well. I would love to have him as a friend. What happened to Cameron was so tragic and unfair, and thinking about it while seeing his radiating presence on screen made me constantly tear up.

10. I never would've thought I'd say this in any circumstance, but Hades is hands down the best villain-parent and I truly hoped to see more of him.

All in all, I liked the movies way more than I thought I would and they make me feel really nostalgic. ...Plus, the songs will surely be stuck in my head for the next couple of weeks.

#descendants #descendants 2 #descendants 3 #mal bertha #ben florian #anti bal #evie grimhilde #malvie #uma #harry hook #huma #malry #jay #jarry #gil #jil #audrey rose #hades #disney channel

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ileftmysoulinnorway · 1 year ago

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We all had a tough end of the week, so I thought I would put together something about my IWTV set lurking experience in Prague, hopefully to cheer someone up and show you that the people working on our little show are incredible, everything is well thought out, and we have a lot to look forward to.

Locations

I am confident that Prague will be a good substitute for Paris. I love this post comparing Prague's Théâtre des Vampires location with a real Le Grand Guignol in Paris. But similar care is given to other locations as well.

I like to joke that I enjoyed a month-long tour of Prague's most famous landmarks, only to have the actual filming take place in nondescript alleyways right next to them. But it makes perfect sense. They want to capture the nicer and older parts of the city that suit them, but not anything that would tell you it's Prague.

Production design, costumes

I saw them build everything from scratch on several sets. And I'm in awe. From putting up posters that will probably only appear in the background of a single shot, to street names that fit the exact topography of Paris and make sense in the context of the scenes that take place on them, to storefronts that they really didn't have to pay that much attention to, or a menu at Le Dakar Café that you could only read up close, but someone took the trouble to make it anyway?

And maybe this attention to detail is normal, I don't know, but I still think Mara and her team deserve all the praise they get.

S1 showed us how much attention is paid to the costumes. I can assure you that has not changed. All the hats, coats, capes and dresses. I can't tell you how many times I've been pleasantly surprised. By the choice of colors for Lestat. By how beautifully all of Armand's black clothes come to life with little details.

People

There are so many people (and I mean SO many) working on the show and they all know exactly what is expected of them, everything runs like a well-oiled machine. I haven't seen any problems, any conflicts, any excesses.

I'm not under any illusion that everything was trouble-free, but really the only complaints I heard were about the horrendously hellish schedule (I guess that's normal) and then the occasional person wishing they had finished earlier (they never finished earlier).

They are all heroes to me.

Directors

Levan is the only one I saw. He seems so focused and professional. His "rolling...and action" is unforgettable.

Actors

After six locations and about fifteen scenes (and countless rehearsals and takes), I think I managed to get at least some idea of them, and yes, they really seem to be such nice people.

- Jacob, I don't envy him at all the emotional strain of playing Louis, but at the same time I love his portrait of Louis so much.

- Sam's transformation into Lestat is something to behold.

- Assad was the only one present on every set. I don't think we've fully realized how big a role he's going to have (at least in S2).

- Delainey, Ben, Roxane and everyone else 💜

Scenes

They were far from finished when the strike started, but at least (in my opinion) they got to the last block of episodes.

I'm not going to pretend to have a concrete idea of what to expect from S2 based on what little I saw. But I do have a few guesses, and I'm insanely excited and thrilled. And, in the case of the 1700s flashbacks, totally confused. I can't believe they're going to do so many unexpected things, or other things so soon.

I truly believe that S2 will not disappoint any of us. We just have to wait a little longer. But if this strike means that everyone gets a better deal and the studios are forced to change their ways, it will be worth the wait.

#iwtvphotos&asks

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