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hypnobeauty · 2 days ago

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A Chance Encounter - a cho hyun-ju x reader fic (part 4)

summary: a story about how you and hyun-ju met and the following years of your relationship. part 1 / part 2 / part 3 cw: no use of y/n, reader is afab, fluff, slowburn, pre-squid game, slice of life. a/n: hello! i lied, forgive me; i said we'd get into the relationship this part, but i love me a good slowburn. i try to keep the chapters around 1,000 words so it's not too boring, so we end up having more parts. this one is a little short but the next will be bigger. enjoy xx as always, comments are appreciated ♥ taglist: @strayteez3staner @dekiruxxx @jeongteen @sunnysurvives @3leni @etta-huracan @honeyhyunju @basoressia - comment if you’d like to be tagged.

part 4. a table by the window

“i don’t have much time,” you said, checking the watch on your wrist. “i need to be back at the office in…” you squinted at the numbers. “thirty-two minutes.”

hyun-ju smiled faintly, her fingers brushing the side of her coffee cup. “that’s more than enough.”

after she’d stopped you on your way out of the café, you’d followed her to the table by the window. the golden afternoon light softened the angles of her face, catching on her cheekbones and the delicate curve of her nose.

“your nose looks beautiful,” you said, meaning it. the words were out before you could second-guess them.

her hand lifted to her face instinctively, touching her nose with a soft laugh. “thank you.”

“i just wish you’d let me know you were okay,” you said, the words coming out quieter than you expected.

the silence from hyun-ju lingered longer than you expected, turning from a question into a quiet ache. at first, you checked your phone constantly, convinced that each buzz or notification would be her reply. but days passed, then weeks, and your hope started to wane.

for hyun-ju, the silence wasn’t intentional—it was survival. every time her phone buzzed with one of your messages, her heart leapt, and she’d reach for it instinctively. but then the doubts would creep in: what if i say the wrong thing? what if she’s just being nice? what if this doesn’t work out?

she’d type out replies, erase them, and set her phone aside, the weight of what she wasn’t saying pressing down on her chest. but the silence didn’t mean she wasn’t thinking about you. in fact, you occupied her thoughts more than she cared to admit. she replayed your conversations in her mind—the way you’d made her laugh, the easy way you spoke, the warmth in your voice when you said she deserved kindness.

more than once, she caught herself imagining what she’d say if she had the courage to text back. she’d want to thank you for being so thoughtful, for seeing her as a person when so many others didn’t. she’d want to ask about your life, your friends, your favorite things. she’d want to tell you how much it meant to her that you didn’t flinch at her truth.

you told yourself you weren’t upset—after all, you barely knew her. but the truth was, her absence left a hollow space you couldn’t quite fill. there was something about her that stayed with you, something you couldn’t shake.

sometimes, you’d catch yourself wondering why it mattered so much. poor ha-neul had been filling up her shoes as best friend dutifully, recovering from her surgery with you yapping in her ear about the situation.

you’d known ha-neul since college, a whirlwind friendship that started over shared ramen packets during late-night study sessions and grew into something solid and dependable. now, working together in the same advertising agency— you as a graphic designer and her as an advertiser— , she was the closest person in your life, a friendship filled with unwavering support and never stopping banter.

so when ha-neul teased you about hyun-ju, it didn’t bother you as much as it might have coming from someone else.

“if you like her, you like her. it doesn’t have to be a big deal,” she said one day as you walked back from a coffee run. it was a simple statement, but it stayed with you.

you hadn’t thought much about dating women before. the truth was, you’d always admired women—sometimes in passing, sometimes more deeply—but you’d never let yourself linger on those feelings. boys were “easier”. in college, there was a girl in one of your classes, a sculptor with messy hair and calloused hands, who had a smile that made your stomach flip. you’d convinced yourself it was just admiration.

then there was your coworker at your first internship. she’d always leaned a little too close when she talked to you, her laugh warm and easy, and you’d caught yourself wondering what it would be like to hold her hand. but you hadn’t let yourself think about it for long.

it was easier to dismiss those feelings, to chalk them up to fleeting crushes or passing thoughts. you never questioned it too deeply, brushing those emotions aside before they could take root.

some of it, you realized, had to do with other people’s opinions. growing up, it was easier to follow the expectations placed on you—to keep things simple and avoid any sideways glances or pointed questions. the world had a funny way of making you second-guess yourself before you even had the chance to figure things out.

but hyun-ju wasn’t a fleeting moment. she wasn’t something you could brush aside.

at first, you told yourself it was just her kindness that drew you in, or maybe the way she seemed both strong and soft at once. but the more you thought about her, the more you realized it was something else. she’d made you laugh, made you curious, made you want to understand her in a way that felt new and exciting—and a little scary.

unknown to each other, both of you wanted to reach out but didn’t know how. both of you felt the weight of what wasn’t being said. and in the quiet spaces of your lives, both of you found yourselves thinking about each other: on your commute, you’d glance out the window, wondering if you’d ever run into her again; on her walks to the grocery store, hyun-ju would imagine what it might be like to bump into you, to have a reason to talk to you without the pressure of responding to your messages. you kept her number saved in your phone, the unanswered texts a reminder of something unfinished and she kept her phone close, always expecting the next buzz to be from you, even though she hadn’t replied to the last.

by the time a month had passed, the silence between you had stretched thin, hyun-ju holding onto the hope that it wasn’t too late and you resigned to the way the situation had ended. for hyun-ju, the café was just another stop in her routine, a quiet moment to sip her coffee and crunch numbers for her next surgery. she wasn’t expecting anything to change. for you, the café was a small indulgence in the middle of a long day, a chance to take a break and treat yourself to something sweet and forget the lingering questions in your mind. neither of you knew that the moment you’d both been waiting for was about to arrive.

hyun-ju smiled faintly as she cupped her drink, her fingers brushing the edge of the warm porcelain. “i… really am sorry. i didn’t mean to make you feel ignored. i wasn’t sure how to…” she paused, exhaling sharply.

you tilted your head, studying her face. “it’s okay. i get it, kind of.” you softened your tone, glancing at her. “but it would’ve been nice just to know you were alright. i… worried about you.”

hyun-ju’s gaze darted to you, then back to her cup. “i wanted to reply,” she admitted, her voice quiet. “but every time i tried, i’d just… freeze. i overthink everything. so i’d delete it and try again. and again.”

“that sounds exhausting,” you said gently.

“it is.” she chuckled nervously. “my therapist keeps telling me to stop overthinking, but that’s like telling water not to be wet.”

you perked up at the mention of therapy. “therapist? how long have you been going?”

“about a year,” she said, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “i started right before i came out. it was… rough at first, but it’s been helpful. she’s great—tough but fair. keeps me from spiraling too much.”

“that’s awesome,” you said, smiling. “i’ve always thought therapy was one of those things everyone should try at least once, even if their life isn’t falling apart.”

“right?” hyun-ju said, her lips quirking upward. “sometimes i just go to vent about how my friends are driving me crazy.”

you leaned forward slightly, curiosity tugging at you. “you must have good ones if they’re worth venting about.”

“i do,” she said with a small smile.

“you work out often?” you asked, glancing at her arms, where her muscles shifted under the sleeves of her grey shirt. you hoped you weren’t being too obvious, but it was hard not to notice.

“pretty regularly,” she said, shrugging. “it helps me clear my head.”

you nodded, still trying to appear casual. “yeah, i could… kind of tell.”

her brow furrowed, then she caught the direction of your gaze and laughed softly. “it’s not that serious.”

“sure, it’s not,” you said with a grin, taking a sip of your drink.

“what about you?” she asked. “what’s been going on in your life?”

“let’s see…” you began. “oh! ha-neul had her nose surgery a few weeks ago, so i’ve been playing nurse-slash-therapist for her ever since. she milked it for all it was worth.”

hyun-ju chuckled. “that’s what friends are for, right?”

“absolutely,” you said. “we’re lucky we could work remotely during her recovery. it was a lifesaver. we’d crash at each other’s places and work on projects together, though it was mostly me fetching her tea and reminding her not to poke her face.”

“she’s lucky to have you,” hyun-ju said, her voice warm.

“and i’m lucky she puts up with me,” you replied.

the conversation flowed easily now, each question and answer peeling back another layer. but when you glanced at your watch, reality hit.

“oh no,” you said, straightening in your chair. “i’ve got to get back to work. i didn’t even realize how much time had passed.”

hyun-ju’s expression flickered with disappointment, but she nodded. “i don’t want to keep you.”

you stood, slinging your bag over your shoulder. you hesitated at the table, something unspoken hovering between you. “maybe we could meet again sometime?” you offered. “i feel like there’s still so much to talk about.”

hyun-ju’s eyes widened slightly. “you mean… like a date?”

you grinned. “only if you want it to be.”

for a moment, you thought she might backtrack, but to your surprise, she met your gaze and nodded. “okay. yeah. let’s do that.”

your heart did a little flip as you smiled. “great. i’ll see you soon, then.”

your walk back to the agency wasn’t as cold as it should be; you actually felt reinvigorated and with more energy to finish your day. but your return was later than intended, slipping into your desk chair with a cup of cold coffee in hand. ha-neul noticed immediately.

“you’re late,” she said, raising an eyebrow. “and that coffee looks sad.”

you shrugged, setting the cup down. “got distracted.”

she narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “distracted by what?”

before you could answer, your phone buzzed on the desk. you glanced at the screen, and your lips curved into a smile as you read the text from hyun-ju.

"hi. there’s a traditioal korean restaurant near my place. would that work?"

ha-neul, always curious, leaned over before you could stop her. her eyes widened as she read the message, and then she turned to you with a grin so wide it almost hurt to look at.

“oh my god!” she squealed, grabbing your arm and jumping up and down like a kid. “is this really her?”

“ha-neul, calm down,” you said, laughing despite yourself.

“calm down? are you kidding? you have been yapping about her for a fucking month!” she said, laughing as she hugged you. “tell me everything!”

“later,” you said, still grinning as you typed your reply.

"sounds perfect. i can’t wait."

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satsugacafe · 3 days ago

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𝐃𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐒𝐡𝐮𝐡𝐞𝐢 𝐇𝐢𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢 𝐚𝐬 𝐊𝐲𝐨𝐫𝐚𝐤𝐮’𝐬 𝐃𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐖𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐈𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞…

➳❥ 𝐑𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭: hiya! may i ask if you can write some hc of shuhei hisagi being in a relationship with the daughter of shunsui kyoraku?

➳❥ 𝐀/𝐍: This was so adorable to write. I had a ball of a time. Hope you enjoy, anon!

➳❥ 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐱𝐭: What’s it like to date Hisagi as Kyoraku’s kiddo.

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐍𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐠𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

˚₊‧꒰ა Hisagi initially hesitated to even approach you, not because of who your father was. He had never expected to catch the eye of Captain Kyoraku’s daughter, and frankly, it left him a little frazzled. He wasn’t exactly one to think himself suave, despite what others might believe.

˚₊‧꒰ა He always felt like a fumbling idiot around you, though he’d never admit it. And it didn’t help that Kyoraku always seemed to be watching him with a teasing grin whenever he was around, and Kensei made sure to remind him how ridiculous he looked when he zoned out or messed up after those encounters.

˚₊‧꒰ა He found it impossible to stay away, though, your laugh was infectious, and your sharp wit kept him on his toes. You didn’t mince your words, and if someone was being daft, you made sure they knew it. He couldn’t resist how genuine you were, even when it meant being on the receiving end of your dry humour.

˚₊‧꒰ა When he finally got the nerve to confess his feelings, it was after a few too many shared drinks at the Seireitei tavern. “I don’t want you to think this is just the saké talking, but I’d be mad not to tell you—you’re amazing. And if your dad kills me for this, at least I’ll die happy.”

˚₊‧꒰ა Dating you meant Hisagi found himself regularly tangled in Kyoraku’s antics. Shunsui took an almost sadistic delight in teasing him, often dropping into conversations with casual comments like, “So, Hisagi-kun, have you prepared your will yet? I’m sure Nanao-chan can help you file it properly.”

˚₊‧꒰ა You weren’t immune to your father’s teasing either, but you handled it with ease, often replying with a quick, “Don’t worry, dad, I’ll make sure to put you in the nicest care home when the time comes.” Watching your banter with Shunsui made Hisagi fall for you even harder.

˚₊‧꒰ა Your father, for his part, seemed more amused than anything else by the developing romance. “Ah, Shuhei, my boy,” he’d grin lazily, sipping his sake, “you’ve got quite the task ahead of you. She’s more stubborn than I ever was, so best of luck keeping up.”

˚₊‧꒰ა Despite Shunsui’s laid-back attitude, Hisagi knew the man was fiercely protective. The first time Shunsui casually reminded him of your combat prowess—“You know, she could probably wipe the floor with you, right?”—he didn’t doubt it for a second. But you brushed it off with an exasperated, “Dad, stop trying to scare him off. He’s already too stubborn to run.”

˚₊‧꒰ა Hisagi quickly realised that dating you wasn’t just about your sharp humour; you were also the most loyal and determined person he’d ever met. Whether it was training, missions, or standing up for others, you threw yourself into everything wholeheartedly, and it inspired him to push himself further too.

˚₊‧꒰ა You had a knack for putting him in his place when he was being too hard on himself. One particularly rough evening, after a mission went sideways, he was spiralling into self-doubt. “I should’ve seen it coming,” he muttered, head in his hands. You pulled him up by the collar, looked him dead in the eye, and said, “If you don’t stop this pity party right now, I swear I’ll spar with you until you beg for mercy.” He didn’t doubt you for a second.

˚₊‧꒰ა Very gentle when sparring with you, despite your insistence that he didn’t need to hold back. “I’m not risking Kyoraku-taichou’s wrath by accidentally bruising his daughter,” he’d joke, dodging your strikes with ease. You’d roll your eyes and quip, “He’s more likely to scold you for not giving me a proper challenge.”

˚₊‧꒰ა He adored how effortlessly you balanced your fierce independence with your softer, more affectionate side. You weren’t the type to gush over romantic gestures, but you had a way of making small moments feel monumental. Sometimes, it was as simple as leaning against him while watching the sunset, murmuring, “This is nice,” like it was all you needed.

˚₊‧꒰ა He loved spoiling you in little ways—bringing you your favourite snacks after a long day, slipping you flowers he’d picked from the Seireitei gardens, or surprising you with tea brewed exactly how you liked it. He always tried to play it cool, but you could see the faint blush on his cheeks every time.

˚₊‧꒰ა Dates with him often involved quiet, secluded spots where you could both relax without the pressures of your respective duties. He’d take you to the outskirts of Rukongai, where the stars seemed brighter, and the world felt more peaceful.

˚₊‧꒰ა He’d bring his guitar sometimes, playing soft melodies as you leaned against his shoulder. “You’ve got a lot of talent,” you’d murmur, and he’d reply with a humble shrug, “I just like the sound. It’s better when you’re here to listen.”

˚₊‧꒰ა When he introduced you to some of his closest friends, like Renji and Ikkaku, it was both hilarious and mildly chaotic. They teased him relentlessly, especially when you mentioned how often he talked about you. “Shuhei, mate, you’re whipped,” Renji laughed, earning a scowl from your boyfriend. You just smiled, enjoying how easily he got riled up.

˚₊‧꒰ა Teasing him about his “tough guy” image was never-ending, especially when he went out of his way to avoid conflict. “Shuhei, you’re a lieutenant, not a pacifist. You do realise it’s your job to fight sometimes, right?” He’d just grin and reply, “I’m saving my energy for when you challenge me. That’s the real battle.”

˚₊‧꒰ა Loved seeing you in your element during training. Your precision, speed, and strategy were unmatched, and he often found himself mesmerised. “If I didn’t know better,” he’d joke, “I’d think you were showing off just to impress me.” You’d roll your eyes but secretly enjoy the compliment.

˚₊‧꒰ა While you were confident in battle, Hisagi noticed how you sometimes hesitated to accept help or show vulnerability. He made it his mission to remind you that it was okay to lean on someone else. “Even the strongest people need a hand sometimes,” he told you after a gruelling mission, gently taking your hand.

˚₊‧꒰ა The first time you were injured on a mission, Hisagi’s calm facade cracked entirely. He sat by your bedside, gripping your hand tightly as he rambled nervously. “You’re not allowed to scare me like that again, got it? I’m already on thin ice with your dad. Don’t make him actually kill me.” You squeezed his hand and replied, “Relax, Shuhei, I’m not going anywhere. Someone has to keep you in line.”

˚₊‧꒰ა You often found yourself mediating between Hisagi and Kyoraku during their playful yet mildly antagonistic interactions. When your father would casually comment, “You sure you want to stick with this one? There are easier options out there,” you’d roll your eyes and reply, “He’s got more guts than most, dad. That’s good enough for me.”

˚₊‧꒰ა Despite the constant teasing, Shunsui genuinely seemed to approve of Hisagi, though he’d never admit it outright. One evening, after a family dinner, he patted Hisagi on the back and said, “You’re still alive, so I must like you at least a little.” Hisagi’s relieved laugh was probably louder than necessary.

˚₊‧꒰ა You and Hisagi made an incredible team during joint missions. While he admired your ability to think on your feet, you appreciated his unshakable determination and strategic mind. More often than not, you’d end up bantering mid-fight, much to your enemies’ confusion. “You call that a dodging technique?” you’d shout. “It’s called improvising!” he’d retort.

˚₊‧꒰ა Hisagi often wondered how he got so lucky, especially when you’d lean against him after a long day and mumble, “I’m glad it’s you, Shuhei.” Those quiet moments reminded him that, no matter what chaos life threw at him, he’d always have you by his side.

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @stygianoir @edensrose

©satsugacafé 2025: no permission to repost, plagiarise, copy or translate my work onto any other platform or this one.

#˚₊‧꒰ა satsugacafé ໒꒱ ‧₊˚#shuhei hisagi x reader #shuhei hisagi headcanons #shuhei hisagi imagine #hisagi x reader #shuhei hisagi scenario #shuhei hisagi fluff #bleach x reader #bleach x you #bleach x y/n #bleach imagines #bleach headcanons #bleach fluff

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deeplyshalllow · 2 days ago

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I’m sorry but this is bullshit.

Let’s break this down

On Fiyero being Captain of the Guard

He is a double agent. He does not believe what he stands for and is using his position to do what he can to find and help Elphaba. I don’t know what to say to you if you missed the obvious statements about this in Thank Goodness, because I have always thought they were so obvious they really should be rewritten because I don’t know how he wasn’t found out and arrested when he said all that.

Morrible: Now you've been at the forefront of the hunt for the Wicked Witch, haven't you? Fiyero: I don't like to think of her as a Wicked Witch.

Glinda: Fiyero, I miss her too, but we can't just stop living. No one has searched harder for her than you.

I guess he doesn’t literally say “shhh I’m secretly using my position to undermine the regime” but I think the writers thought people watching the show had some basic media literacy.

Does this mean he didn’t commit atrocities? No probably not. But bear in mind if he hadn’t been doing it, someone else would have. Fiyero knows this, by placing himself here he is in the best position both to protect Elphaba but also protect the Animals in the regime. I know we don’t see him helping the Animals, but nor do we really see Elphaba doing so? Given he used the first opportunity, when they wouldn’t get in trouble, to help the Lion Cub it seems a pretty good inference that he was trying to send out warnings to Animals when he could (especially now the movieverse has made him the only character aside from Elphaba who is friends with an Animal – he probably even has a network he can tap into!).

“Searching for Elphaba did not somehow compel him to go and volunteer to follow (or to give!) orders in the name of the dictator who was trying to have her assassinated the entire time.”

IDK about you, but I think if I were to search for someone wanted and was given the opportunity to both have the best resources and information to find her and hamper people who might find her and hurt her, I would totally do it this way too.

“He didn't accomplish anything from it either, by the way”

Um, yes he did? He literally succeeded in the exact goal he was planning by joining the Gale Force: to protect Elphaba. If he hadn’t been Captain of the Guard in the throne room when the Wizard called his guards she would have been captured and killed, instead she escaped which eventually allowed the Wizard to be overthrown and Elphaba’s values to be acted on in the form of Glinda ruling.

Her position in the Wizard's regime was foisted upon her. There are things we can discuss, but I find that many folks need reminding that Glinda would undoubtedly have been disposed of (or worse) if she failed to make herself useful.

There is a difference between keeping quiet, not protesting a regime and actively endorsing it. Glinda was doing the latter and she was not forced into that. (She also was not helping undermine it the same way Fiyero was).

Fiyero: I can't just stand here grinning pretending to go along with all of this! Glinda: Do you think I like to hear them say those awful things about her? I hate it! Fiyero: Then what are we doing here? Let's go, let's get out of here! Glinda: We can't leave now, not when people are looking to us to raise their spirits. Fiyero: You can't leave, because you can't resist this. And that is the truth. Glinda: Maybe I can't. Is that so wrong? Who could?

Elphaba: No, of course you never! You're too busy telling everyone how wonderful everything is! Glinda: I'm a public figure, now. People expect me to... Elphaba: Lie? Glinda: Be encouraging!

I promise I do not hate Glinda, I find her character fascinating, and she is starting to make up for the awful stuff she does in act two by the end of the musical. But do not pretend for one moment that she is not actively complicit in this regime, with no real desire to stop it until it starts actively hurting her.

“He always WANTED to be self-absorbed and shallow, and all his actions are consistent with that. Elphaba saw depth and discontentment in him, yes: but (and I cannot stress this enough) when given the chance, he channeled that in the wrong direction. He didn't confront that and become a better person.”

He gave up his wealth, privilege and safety to ensure Elphaba escaped from the throne room and continued her cause (this isn’t about running away with Elphaba btw, he lost everything from the moment he pointed the gun at the Wizard). He was ready to die for her in the Corn Field scene. I don’t know what more you want him to do to prove that he was not shallow and he wouldn’t die for his cause in the exact same way Elphaba was prepared to?

“He doesn't think through the wider repercussions of anything he does — thoughtlessness is just one of his core character traits.”

I don’t think there’s anything to say here except you are just actively wrong.

Fiyero is the only character of the trio to put thoughts into his actions. He is the only one who doesn’t immediately act on his impulses.

Elphaba reacts immediately to what she thinks is right without thinking of the consequences to herself or, frankly, if it will even work. This is shown metaphorically in her outbursts of magic in early act 1 but also more literally in Defying Gravity, confronting the Wizard after Wonderful and, even in some twisted sense, in capturing Dorothy.

Glinda reacts immediately to her first instinct of what she wants and feels emotionally and regrets later (often when it’s too late to backtrack) – the hat, telling Morrible and the Wizard how to capture Elphaba, even saying she’ll join Elphaba in Defying Gravity can be seen as examples of this.

Fiyero, however, (ironically) is the only one of the group who thinks. In throne room he goes in, plays the part of a loyal guard until he’s got rid of the witnesses and neutralised the threat of the Wizard, in the Cornfield scene he realises that the only way he can get Elphaba away safely is by threatening Glinda, at the end of the show he is the one who plays along as a scarecrow for days while coming up with the plan for Elphaba to escape (and make no mistake, this is Fiyero’s plan, he’s the one who knows the water melting rumour, he’s the one who knows the secret passages in Kiamo Ko).

“But let me be frank: that is literally all he ever accomplishes in the show. He gives her dick one time, and one of his castles, and that's it. That's the culmination of his years trying to find her”

He saves her life three times in act two. What the fuck are you talking about?

Glinda who is ultimately vindicated, and has — for all her faults — made the necessary choices to fulfill Elphaba's wishes,

I will give you that. But it’s not by any foreplaning. Glinda does become a good person, but it takes the whole musical and some very horrible consequences for her actions, ones that she quite rightly will forever regret and have to spend her whole life making up for.

And none of this would have been possible without Fiyero anyway, if it had not been for him Elphaba would have been captured, executed and Glinda would have never had the courage – or possibly even the motivation to fight back.

[Wicked Act II spoilers]

[edited for tone and clarity of purpose, apologies for initial crudeness and frustration]

Okay, obviously I'm biased, but I'm gonna need the Fiyeraba shippers to please set a lot of your people straight about some things. I've seen way too many people trying to say that Glinda is just a selfish bimbo and that Fiyero is a virtuous and selfless figure more worthy of Elphaba's love. I'll set aside for now the idea of "worthiness" in this context. But let's start off with Fiyero joining the Wizard. Hoo boy...

Yes, he was initially somewhat less tolerant of the propaganda against Elphaba than Glinda was; yes, he was secretly trying to find her so he could run away with her or whatever. But honey: those facts DO NOT fully absolve his actions as the Wizard's top officer, or selfish recklessness throughout Act II. I see so many popular threads and posts romanticizing and whitewashing with "oh but he didn't REALLY join the Wizard, he just pretended so he could try to get to Elphie! It's all for love, and he sacrificed everything for her!" As if the literal captain of the literally fascist forces responsible for the oppression of Animals wasn't equally responsible for said oppression?? Hello? Fiyero really didn't think of seeking out Elphaba in ANY other way that DIDN'T involve becoming *checks notes*... the trusted leader of the troops committing all the abuses she's fighting against in the first place???? Like it's cool and all that he helped with Brrr, and it's all well and good that he planned on betraying the Wizard as soon as he found Elphaba (which took literal years, so I guess we're left to assume he was prepared to just keep doing fascism indefinitely if she didn't show up????), but uh... it's kind of concerning to how eager some of you are to make excuses for this dude volunteering as the head of the Ozian Gestapo??? smdh

He didn't accomplish anything from it either, by the way — like yeah, we get it, he did everything he did whilst silently fantasizing about running away with the Witch he was being paid to hunt. Fine. But I can't be the only one who doesn't buy that as an actual excuse???? Like, guys: nobody forced him to join the fascist army — even with crazy ulterior motives. He wasn't coerced into it; it wasn't his only choice or anything. Searching for Elphaba did not somehow compel him to go and volunteer to follow (or to give!) orders in the name of the dictator who was trying to have her assassinated the entire time. He could have just not done all that. (Genuinely so curious how the second film plans on covering that material tbh)

Glinda made several questionable decisions that can be (and have been) debated, but she is still very unambiguously a victim. Her position in the Wizard's regime was foisted upon her. There are things we can discuss, but I find that many folks need reminding that Glinda would undoubtedly have been disposed of (or worse) if she failed to make herself useful. I mean hell: she wasn't even supposed to meet the Wizard in the first place — she was only there because of Elphie. If she'd tried to resist, it would have immediately gotten her labeled the Witch's accomplice. As soon as she'd chosen not to get on the broom, her fate was out of her hands, and all available options were varying degrees of horrible.

That's not the case with Fiyero. He went to the Wizard all on his own; no one ever cornered or forced him into it. Thinking Animals are people, and having a crush on Elphaba, simply did not stop him from carrying out the regime's orders — for years. It's not clear exactly how long he's been captain at the start of Act II, but the clear implication is that he's been a soldier for most of the time skip. I've seen Fiyeraba accounts with headcanons about him acting as a double agent, secretly doing stuff to help Animals — and that's a great idea, it would indeed serve to make a lot of his actions way more palatable — but until we actually get to SEE some of that (maybe they'll add it for the movie version of Act II; we'll have to see), there is nothing in the story to suggest that. He certainly didn't do a damn thing for all those Animals who were enslaved and caged in the Wizard's palace — and we don't see a single other Animal outside of there in Act II, so as far as we know Fiyero has participated over those years in the near-total removal of Animals from Ozian society. In the name of "finding Elphaba". Not fighting for her cause. Just finding HER. For HIMSELF.

It's fine to have a ship you like, obviously — and there is genuinely a lot to like about Fiyeraba, I don't dislike the idea of them as a couple or as friends — but come on guys: please stop those out there idealizing Fiyero as somehow a clear "morally-superior" alternative to Glinda, lol. The dude had power, access, and opportunities, for years, that he could have wielded in any number of really selfless, revolutionary ways. He didn't. And I propose (apparently controversially): he simply didn't want to. And that — at the end of the day — is (much as some would like to deny it) true to his character. He always WANTED to be self-absorbed and shallow, and all his actions are consistent with that. Elphaba saw depth and discontentment in him, yes: but (and I cannot stress this enough) when given the chance, he channeled that in the wrong direction. He didn't confront that and become a better person — for the most part he just displaced and projected it onto Elphaba as an object of obsession, and put on an even thicker pretense than before.

All his actions — regardless of the complexity he has deep down — are those of a man who never gives one fuck about anything or anyone, except (kinda sorta) Elphaba. But even then: at no time does the care he has for her seem to extend to caring about any of her wants or needs outside of sexual validation from him, or how she might feel about his actions, or indeed the impacts of those actions upon her, her cause, or anyone or anything else. I don't think it should be all that controversial to say: he doesn't think through the wider repercussions of anything he does — thoughtlessness is just one of his core character traits. He doesn't think ahead or see meaning in anything outside of what can temporarily excite him, in the moment. I think people place a little too much weight on Elphaba clocking him with regard to his internal pain, and seem to expect (understandably of course) that she is not only right, but moreover that he will grow from that in a positive direction, based on her influence.

But he doesn't. If anything, we get a surprising inverse: he pretty much proves her wrong. Not to say he didn't have hidden depth and all that, like she said: but his hypothetical heart of gold proves not to really amount to much in practice. He doesn't grow out of his shallowness and his self-centeredness: he grows into it in a way that he hadn't quite yet in school. Where once he was only masking an internal listlessness, after he's been cracked open by Elphaba he decides to be genuinely self-absorbed and deeply shallow, not just coasting by. He performs in new ways — as a soldier, eventually as a "fiancé", etc. — but by Act II we meet a Fiyero who has staked the last remaining shred of humanity in him on the vain pursuit of the only object of his desire that has ever been unavailable to him, and firmly chosen to say to hell with everyone and everything else.

When put to the test, Fiyero sacrifices Glinda, the Animals, and all else that Elphaba actually cared about, to pursue his own unresolved crush from college. Mostly to get in her pants, really — as harsh as I'm sure that sounds. But let me be frank: that is literally all he ever accomplishes in the show. He gives her dick one time, and one of his castles, and that's it. That's the culmination of his years trying to find her — years in which he actively worked as one of the stormtroopers (or even the one commanding them) committing untold crimes against Animalkind (who, again, it seems have been all but erased from Oz by Act II): y'know, the very crimes Elphaba sacrificed her life to try and stop????? He spent the most important time of his life — of his own free will — being a fascist soldier, but he "did it for her" somehow, so according to some, it's perfectly fine. Heroic, even. Yikes??

But let's make something very clear (since my original version of this post caught a lot of flak, including slurs and other rudeness):

I like Fiyero. I find his role extremely interesting (I could do a whole dissertation on him, but I'm especially a fan of the way his proving Elphaba's assessment of him wrong presents a fascinating parallel and contrast with Glinda, which I think is lost on a lot of people). But PLEASE stop with all the misguided Glinda slander and idealization of Fiyero. By all means, thirst! But don't give me all this bullshit about him deserving Elphaba more, or being super deep, or being really principled or noble or whatever else. He does have layers, and quite intriguing ones, but his insides are straw — he isn't meant to have some deep, overwrought emotional core or motivations; he has passions that he acts upon when given the chance. That's it. And that's fine. Actually kind of refreshing in a story rooted in simple children's fantasy but rife with intensely complicated personalities. Fiyero makes it his mission to represent denial of depth and embrace of raw, spontaneous desire — and I for one love that, and wish others appreciated it.

And in all seriousness, shipping wars aside: by the end of the story, it's Glinda who is ultimately vindicated, and has — for all her faults — made the necessary choices to fulfill Elphaba's wishes, bring down the regime, etc. And all that despite herself. She's miserable: not just because of the mistakes she made, but because of her correct moves as well. Fiyero is simply not — and could never be — that person. And that's okay! Like I said: I am not anti-Fiyero. Fiyero's willingness to throw it all away for the sake of sheer, overriding passion is a huge part of what people like about him, of course — and it's an obvious factor in the attraction between him and Elphaba, because she has her own flavor of that impulse as well — but I'd actually argue that it's not romantic, it's his fatal flaw. And thematically that's fantastic! But I just don't believe that it somehow means he "deserves Elphaba more" because he "gave up his life for her" or whatever. In part because NOBODY truly "deserves" Elphie tbh, not 100% (and I question anybody who claims otherwise), but ultimately because I don't accept the idea that his fleeting acts of passion make up for all the shit leading up to them (or even proceeding after them tbh). At least Glinda managed to do what Elphaba always wanted in the end — but I would die on this hill even if Gelphie didn't exist.

You don't have to agree with my analysis of Fiyero and his choices, relationships, etc. — that's fine. What isn't fine is trying to portray Glinda as some kind of spineless traitor whore for the Wizard and Fiyero as a conscientious hero who earned Elphie through self-sacrifice. That's just not the story that was written. It's WAY messier and more interesting than that.

#wicked meta #fiyero #wicked musical #wicked movie

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missmarveledsblog · 2 days ago

Text

Once in a lifetime kinda deal (Mafia!Bucky Barnes x reader)

Part one: Father dearest what ?

Summary: When the daughter of Tony Stark is in an arranged marriage with her bodyguard's best friend. Another mafia boss James Barnes the two find themselves liking the arrangement more than expected although the life of a mafia boss is never smooth sailing

Warnings: strong language , fast burn , goofy, Tony starks sarcasm , readers sarcastic ass , mafia au , age gap (legal reader 24 , buckys 40s )

To say it was awkward was probably an understatement, what was supposed to be a regular job suddenly went tits up and in a fast way hell she was only doing the job to pay for college . She, as well as three of her coworkers, sat in some kitchen while watching the rain outside poured down , kids long gone while they waited to be paid . Being fairies for kids parties was fun most times, while other times not so fun especially with some creep of a dad was slipping numbers in the straps of their dresses with a slimy wink was definitely a downside. Another was the owner gave them alcohol while they waited and now she sat with three drunk fairies . didn’t help when they did leave , they could barely stand so she was the one to apologize only for the father to slip his number and ask her to work his club sometime. With a a polite rejection , she went out to the car , lucky for her it was her uncle to collect them .

“ Hey, have fun girls” he chuckled.

“ they sure did happy ” she rolled her eyes .

“ bad one huh?” he asked.

“ well other than creepy dads and spoiled kids it was a great one” she huffed pullin a sweatshirt over herself.

“ Come on, we get food in them,” he laughed. She ignored their slurred chats with her uncle knowing he was being his gentleman self to make sure they ate before getting them home.

“ Why do you do this?” Maya slurred.

“ because I want to pay for my own college” she shrugged.

“ but your dad’s one of the richest dudes, and you got hot uncles , happy abd the adonis” Maya whined.

“ Probably because of their gangsters,” Kelly whispered . She just rolled her eyes knowing they were dying to say it and now with the bravery of the alcohol .

“ ok girls we're here” he called opening the door seeing it was one of the many places her dad was the owner of pulling off the sweatshirt she ran into the restaurant getting out of the rain .

“ you ok” her uncle asked again .

“i’m fine least they said it instead of tip-toeing” she laughed as the two walked in.

“ no alcohol for them” he called as the waiter walked over to the table as the girl collectively whine. “ i’ll see if your dad’s here” he smiled before leaving her to the other drunk fairies.

“ this place is insane” the girls giggled and snorted .

“ yeah it’s something” she hummed wishing she went home instead .

“ what can i get you ladies” the waiter eyed them up sleazy grin on his face.

“ some burgers and fries please” she smiled but the man look at her like she asked for his social security and pay check in one.

“ we don’t do that here the denny’s down the road might be more your pace” he scoffed.

“ i always have cheese burgers here and don’t assume from how were dressed ..” .

“ that your strippers trying to eat and run” he snickered.

“ hey her daddy runs this place” kelly stood swaying slightly.

“ sugar daddies don’t count” he rolled his eyes . “ look girls i’m not missing out on actual customers so ..” He was cut off by the sound of a clearing of a throat.

“ Mr. Rogers,” he gasped.

“ hey stevie happy’s gone see if dad’s here” she smiled as the mans face paled.

“ hey pretty girl” sam walked up .

“ so burger and fries thank you” she turned to the waiter.

“ right away miss stark” he ran off .

“ wow that was so cool” kelly laughed.

“ girls have fun” sam winked making them giggle like school girls .

“ they did i guess my dad is actually here” she nodded.

“ why am i seeing fairies” a voice called .

“ because pretty girl here works as one for parties duh” sam scoffed .

“ kids parties” she corrected .

“ we could change that for you guys” maya winked.

“ they could i still do kids parties” she laughed

. “Damn shame” the mysterious stranger smirked .

“ so hows college going” steve asked playfully pushing the man at his side .

“ kicking my ass but i love it” she smiled brightly.

“ princess boss wants to see you” happy called .

“ oh great” she huffed .

“ Happy, can you watch them” she pleaded.

“ course i can '' he smiled as she walked by as the men followed after.

“ so the boss rents out fairies now” the stranger asked.

“ only on Saturdays, '' she called back .

'' So what are you a sugar baby? '' the stranger asked again .

“ bucky shut up, '' Steve hissed.

“ i’m better than a sugar baby” was all she said before the men nodded.

“ shit is that his wife” she could hear him whisper.

“ new guy shush” she laughed as they walked into the room .

“ my beautiful daughter everyone” she looked as her father stood and they followed . “ Hey dad , it’s nice to meet you all” she smiled .

“ Are you still doing that kid party thing?” he asked.

“No, I dressed like this for fun” she rolled her eyes .

“ its cute kid, '' Rhodey laughed.

'' Come on sit, happy's gonna bring your friends home” her father smiled, almost too friendly for her liking .

“ what’s going on? '' she whispered to Natasha Romanoff, one of her fathers favorite co-workers, giving the woman's looks and abilities to get a job done quick and easy and her mothers sister.

“ i’m sorry” was all she said .

“ so you're all here for the partly all of you men have been selected for a reason , one of you is a suitable suitor for my dearest Y/N here” she heard the words as clear as day yet it wasn’t like she did at all . she knew it was coming. Most girls in this life were basically sold off to strengthen the business side of things.

“ Wait tony think about this” rhodey almost spat his drink .

“ I did it’s time” he dismissed him instantly. “ Dad, may I speak to you privately?” she asked sweetly .

“ Of course pumpkin” he smiled as she led the way only for Bruce to open the door .

“ thanks banner” she smiled so forcefully . Once the door was closed she wanted to throw something at her father .

“ What the hell did you fall and hit your head ? “ was all she could say .

“ Look I get i blindsided you but it’s all your choice ok , kid people need to know i run tight ship and you're part of that ship” he sighed.

“ What else aren’t you telling me” she looked at him.

“ well it’s peter , he fucked up big time lost a big a shipment” he explained .

“ that why you don’t let kids fucking do this” . “ I know but now I need you to do this for me , I'll make sure you still stay in college and all that good stuff, “ he pleaded .

“ I pick the suitor if I don't like them, it doesn't happen” she said knowing it was only the way she could gain control of the situation .

“done , there’s a dress there pep pick it out after she threw a vase at my head” he rubbed the back of his neck.

“ of all my stepmothers she’s my favorite” she smiled sadly knowing why the woman wasn’t here .

“ I'll let you change,” he smiled brightly .

“ kind of you” she scoffed .

“ Kid it’s either that or Peter pays” he sighed. “ Why do you think i’m doing it ? cause it not for you ” she growled, pulling the dress out .

Steve sat looking around the room pissed off wondering how Tony could do this and by looking at her face she wasn’t expecting it, another thing he knew it was for real . she couldn’t go with any of these men , all animals in their own way especially how Rumlow was looking at her. That was only telling he would put on the charm but they all knew how he really treated the women in his life , hell the last one found the bottom of a lake more appealing . He could feel Sam stiffen up as well knowing he and many of the Avengers gang didn’t like this. They loved Y/N like a sister or niece and this wasn’t what they wanted for her. Then like a lightbulb went off in his head he looked to his best friend beside him , He was his own man nearly up there with the Starks and he didn’t miss how Bucky froze a little in his spot when he met the stark girl .

“ I need to pull in that favor,” steve whispered.

“ which favor punk” bucky looked around the table he didn’t want her to go with these men they were cruel bastards .

“ when i saved your life , I need you to save another” he whispered.

“ is that why you brought me here?” he arched his brow.

“ no but i mean it works out better this way , come on we can work out details doesn’t need to be a real wedding” steve pleaded.

“ hey I'll cash in my favor too” sam caught on to what they were talking about .

“ Fine, I'll put myself forward as a suitor , she really means this much to you both” he asked as the men nodded.

“ she helped my sister out of a real bad situation , look a girl like her shouldn’t have to do this she a saint amongst sinners” sam sighed.

“ Plus you get in with starks like you want,” Steve added.

“ I'm rethinking that” he shook his head.

“ plus i saw your eyes when you looked at her,” Steve smirked.

“ you need your eyes checked punk” bucky smiled although his best friend wasn’t lying but he felt bad for his lie .

“ Now she agreed gentlemen so let's just have a meal then we can talk another time '' Tony announced taking his seats ignoring the glares from his own men and nat .

“ What's the deal with it all?” Rumlow smiled.

“ She picks the suitor, it's her choice and her rules” Tony took his wine . “ If you don't like it, there's the door,” he added.

“ she ok” nat asked.

“ yeah she just changing out of her fairy thing” tony shrugged.

“ i’ll go check on her” nat smiled hand squeezing tony’s shoulder a little harder making the man smile through gritted teeth.

“ malyshka” she asked, coming further into the office.

“ down here” she called laying on the floor.

“ If you want, we can run now. I'll get Bruce to get the car ready” she looked down .

“ And then how will you adopt then?” she looked up at the redhead.

“ doesn’t matter , I promised my sister i wouldn’t let you get sold off like she did”she shook her head.

“ my dad isn’t like drekov he’ll let me choose” she smiled sadly.

“ he is a little but look we can go when your ready” the red head mused.

“ i’m doing it nat peter in trouble my dad’s fault for trusting a kid to do something so big but he’s my brother i have to ” she sighed .

“ well then i’m making sure whoever it is will know the widows will be watching”.

“ i’ve no doubt they will , how is yelena” she asked standing pulling the dress over her head .

“ well lucky she not here is all i can say” she laughed dryly.

“ look i’ll be fine i can take care of myself thanks to you” she winked pulling the black dress over her head .

“ ok he so lied about pepper picking this” she scoffed as the black body con hugged every part of her body .

“ the one she picked out was down to your ankle” nat laughed.

“ hey hand me his jacket there” she called as she pulled the silver belt off her fairy costume. Pulling her fathers coat over her it covered her to extent , she look classier then the first choice that was for sure as she pulled the belt around her .

“ nice job” nat eye appraisingly rake over the impromptu change of attire.

“ well lets do this”she smiled .

“ what are you planning” nat quirked her brow.

“ nothing at all” she smirked as the widow snorted.

He couldn’t believe he was even doing this , he stood in front of tony stark telling him , he was interested in being put into the pool of suitors .

“ I'm surprised I thought you didn't marry barnes” tony asked.

“ a man can change” he shrugged yet their was secret look between the men .

“ i mean business wise he would be the best choice” steve interjected .

“ he’s not wrong but it’s not my choice so i’ll you in” tony nodded .

“ Thanks” he went to walk back to his seat, two men sharing almost a secret exchange .

“ Sit here , you move” he said as the walker got up .

“ Sir, I could take care of her,” John began.

“ move” tony repeated. The door swung open and the room went completely quiet all eyes on her even though Bucky couldn’t tear his eyes away . She looked like a model or angel or both. He wasn't sure yet only to hear a chuckle from his best friend .

“ don’t mind me using your jacket dad, its a bit chilly ” she smiled sweetly but he could see her testing her father almost willing him to say something .

“ yeah it’s nice on you kid , sharon .. i mean pepper picked great” he smiled forcefully.

“ bingo”she smirking as his eyes narrowed slightly .

“ You look like a great doll” bucky smiled. “Thank you … sorry i didn’t get your name” she held her hand out.

“ jame barnes but friends call me bucky '' he kissed her hand.

'' So sweets what was with the get up before '' Rumlow called.

“ I work as a fairy for kids' parties so I can pay for my own college fees” she smiled.

“ daddy can’t pay, ''he snorted.

'' Daddy could buy the whole college but I wanted to be independent in my own way, learning the world around you helps' ' she smiled sweetly yet her grip on the knife suggested otherwise. “ i mean most of the people put on a front for you guys it hard to read them but when you do what i do you find a lot more under the surface” she added. “ i like that , what do you do in college doll” bucky asked.

“ she is a business and law major” tony cut in actually sounding proud.

“ nah girls belong at home this modern shit fills their heads with crap” rumlow laughed. “ i think it’s great y/n’s smart as hell” steve smiled proudly.

“ i agree with rogers” clint winked .

“ good thing im a women and not a girl then “

“ so doll what’s the fairy business like” bucky smiled.

“ kids are great well sometimes it’s the parents that suck , i mean i think the dad today thought he was getting lucky getting the girls drunk but happy came and got us” she nodded her grip relaxing on the knife.

“ speaking of happy informed me they got back safe” her father smiled.

“ good lets eat i’m starving” she called as the same waiter from before came in hands shaking as he placed the food down .

“ would you like anything else ma’am” he asked a tremble in his voice.

“ nah we’re good thank you” .

“ what was that about” her father asked.

“ nothing misunderstanding” she shrugged.

“ exactly i learned my lesson sir” he squeaked as she nodded. “ fine go” he wave his hand.

“глупый идиот

(silly idiot)”she giggled as nat laughed.

“он безобидная кукла

(he’s harmless doll)” bucky smirked.

“ stop talking russian darling it’s rude” her father hissed.

“ you don’t speak it , none of you?” she asked as they all shook their heads. She looked down at her phone to see message from steve “ lift home with me” . she gave him a quick nod before turning her head to listen to the stupid stories of the men around her. It was an hours later most of the men starting to slur words and braver with their words and praises making her uncomfortable even her father could see it.

“ time for you to go” he clapped his hand.

“ i’ll take her i haven’t drank “ steve stood . “great thanks rogers entertainments coming anyways” tony smirked as the women walked in half dressed in next to nothing .

“ now the real show is here” rumlow smirked . “ i’m going to head off too” bucky stood just as a woman went to sit on his lap .

“ let me walk you out”her father smiled . she only glared at her father seeing the rest of the so call entertainment walking by .

“ don’t get any of these pregnant pepper wouldn’t be happy” she scoffed .

“ pepper is coming too” he rolled his eyes.

“ ok was nice meeting you bucky” she said shaking the mans hand before heading out to the car barely looking at her father .

“ i’ll see you later” steve nodded before he followed.

“ you passed test one barnes” was all tony said before walking back into the room as they all cheered.

She sat in the car looking down at her hands the brave front breaking once she was out of her fathers presence.

“ look i didn’t know that was happening i would of warned you” he said just as the car opened and the two men getting in .

“ i know stevie” she smiled wiping her eyes. “ we have a plan one everyone’s happy with” he said .

“ wait i’m getting in “ a voice called

“ natalia” bucky nodded.

“ ok as i was saying you still need to marry someone but this way your safe and well yeah” he said .

“ whats the plan” she sniffled as nat took her hand knowing she was being too strong.

“ you pick bucky” sam smirked.

“ you’ll get your own room in my place , continue college all you need to do is come to events and stuff with me” he smiled softly.

“ why you helping” nat asked.

“ because these punks begged me and i hate the whole marriage business thing” he sighed.

“ so whats the catch” she asked.

“ none , having a wife and part of your dads business helps me and well you don’t end up a slave for those assholes in there” he explained.

“ steve how much do you trust his word” she asked.

“ with my life it’s why i suggested it” steve promised.

“ sam?” .

“ same as steve , look pretty girl its bucky or Rumlow” sam sighed.

“ i’ll text my father” she nodded. “ leave it till tomorrow ,make it look like its not a plan” bucky nodded.

“ well boys for this you got the trust and business with the widows” nat smiled .

“ another thing you have to let me pay for your college” bucky added.

“ i like my job” she lied.

“ i mean if you wanna be fairy you can but i pay for your college” he shook his head.

“ oh i got invited to breakfast at yours so i guess i’ll see you in the morning too” he winked . nat watched the two before she smiled looking at steve in the mirror two sharing a knowing smirk of what would unfold.

“ no mistresses in the house if you do that do it in hotel” she added.

“ i don’t do mistresses doll” he said she almost believed him .

“ you gave up the whole playboy thing right?” nat asked making the girl beside her head spin .

“ i did got sick of the show , you done your research romanoff” he chuckled.

“ i make sure my niece is safe” she shrugged.

“ speaking of Yelena going to have tony’s balls for this” steve chuckled.

“ oh that’s a long line trust me” nat rolled her eyes.

“ So why are you agreeing to this?” Bucky asked.

“ You can tell him princess,” Steve nodded.

“ My little brother , well he is not actually my brother but he is , my dad took him in as a debt repayment when he was like two , I was six anyways my dad trusted him with a big job that well has us in this mess” she sighed. “ Wait parker? He like a child wait again how old are you” he asked.

“Twenty four ” she shrugged.

“ oh great midlife crisis marriage” bucky sighed ignoring how good the sound of her giggles were to his ears.

“ well lucky the marriage is for show huh old man” she winked .

“ already busting my balls” he teased.

“ oh this is gonna be good” sam chuckled .

Once nat brought her up making sure she was ok , she sat looking around her room probably last she would see of it knowing her father would rush the union once decided. Stripping the remains of her clothes she sent her boss that she was leaving the job. Before she jumped into pair of shorts and sweatshirt on pulling out her textbooks laying them all around the bed . steve and sam all asking how she was so she sent them a selfie of her studying , she looked down to see an unknown number ringing.

“ you’ll get a bad back studying like that doll” she couldn’t help smile at the familiar voice. “ well mr barnes how in the word did you get my number” she chewed on the pen suddenly the words on the page were not as interesting .

“ i may of saw the selfie and felt left out” he teased .

“ steve?” she asked.

“ i asked your dad for your number too” she could hear his grin in the phone.

“ for a selfie of me in my dorky state” she laughed.

“ hey what can i say dorky chicks are needed” . “ well if that's it , i need to dork it out some more big test coming up” she giggled .

“ oh talk dirty for me baby” he joked his laugh taking over .

“ good night barnes” she snorted.

“ good night doll” he chuckled . she could help the flush to her cheeks could she blame herself no , not at all man was sex on legs and knew it.

“ Y/N” She could here the sadness in his voice.

“ hey petey come on” she called place her phone down what she didn’t know was she hit the hang up button .

“ m’sorry i got you dragged into this , maybe if i talk to dad i could sort it out , i’ll work for whoever” he started pacing the room .

“ hey it’s ok look dad prick for even getting you to do such a big job , where was i when this was decided” she asked .

“ ballet classes or maybe away with the fairies” he teased .

“ ok funny boy look shit head i got it sorted well steve does so what i want you to do in return is be a kid not deal with this shit just to prove something to dad cause you don’t have to now like a good big sister i seen you got into MIT so if i do this you gotta do that for me” she hugged him unaware of the third party listening in on the phone.

“ please don’t tell me it’s rumlow” peter asked.

“ nah definitely not this guys nice and not just nice front but he seems like a good guy” she nodded.

“Good guys in the mob?” he arched his brow. “ hey their not all ass grabbing alcoholics” she winked making him chuckle.

“ you think dad would let me go MIT” he asked .

“ i’ll talk to him tomorrow at breakfast when you meet bucky”she smiled .

“ looking forward to it doll” the voice called. “ you know it rude to listen to a private conversations” she said as her face heated up . “ hey kid i’ll talk to your dad too bye doll” he called making her hang up and throw herself into her pillow.

“Was that him?” peter squeaked.

“ uh huh” her voice muffled .

“ whats got you smiling” steve walked in .

“ she really loves that kid huh?” bucky shook his head.

“ peter of course he’s good kid not made for this life , his folk owed money but couldn’t pay stark went to pay them a visit and well took the kid as payment mainly because they weren’t able to look after him cared more about drugs turns out that night the dad went on rampage snapped on the drugs and killed a bunch of people” steve shook his head.

“ did you know she did ballet” he asked .

“ course i did , drove her most her lessons makes her feel closer to her mom” he arched his brow but he wasn’t blind he could see it on his best friend already smitten .

“ is the big bad barnes crushing on his soon to be wife” steve teased.

“ nah just nice to see caring souls in this line of work is all” he shrugged.

“ So you are asking Stark for her number?”.

“ i asked stark to arrange it once she tells him yes its a done deal” bucky shrugged ignoring his friends looks .

“ you already asked” steves eye widened .

“ actually stark rang me and i asked him to arrange it after she says yes” he smirked.

“ you think maybe you should tell her this or maybe everything else you failed to mention in the car” steve looked around the room knowing it wouldn’t be a secret for long.

“ look let's just get this breakfast over, I'll tell her tomorrow.” he sighed, making himself a drink .

“ you know i can read you like a book jerk '' Steve chuckled. “ hell even nat spotted it '' he added.

“ i don’t know what your talking about punk it’s just business' ' bucky winked .

'' oh that poor bastard, '' Steve chuckled as his friend walked out the room .

thanks for reading , if you want to be added to taglist let me know ❤️

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sirhamburrger · 1 day ago

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DIE WITH A SMILE (m. bachira x reader)

━☆ (post-apocalypse au, for day three of @phantasmaebg) ━☆ in which the only thing you can do is join him in undeath. ━☆ wc (written portion): 831 || tags/cw: f!reader, reader is a researcher working on a cure for the virus, bachira is part of an elite military squad, major character deaths (both bachira and reader, among others)(this is a zombie apocalypse au after all) || event m.list ━☆ why did i write this... this is so sad *runs away crying*

meguru bachira is beautiful. a little tired - that much is evident from the dark circles under his golden eyes - but still: beautiful. his eyes practically light up when you step into the room, clad in full personal protective equipment.

for a moment you get self conscious of how you look dressed like a walking banana, but that all disappears when he chuckles warmly, making you blush beneath your mask.

“you’re even more beautiful than i expected,” the squadron member breathes.

you cock your head to the side, highly skeptical as you take a seat in front of him. “you can only see my eyes, though,” you point out, voice muffled.

“yeah, well.” a short pause, then, “they say true beauty is all in the eyes.”

you don’t quite know how you should respond to that, so you don’t.

you end up talking to him than is honestly necessary for the psych eval. he’s a sweet man, and the things his squad-mates have said about him are proven true - optimistic, cheerful, perceptive. somehow, the man you’ve only ever been able to talk to over the phone from behind a reinforced glass panel has become one of the people you trust most in this world.

maybe it’s the way he listens to you intently about the stresses of work, lets you confide in him about hard days - especially really hard days when you find out another one of you has been lost to the virus - trusts you enough to spill his own secrets too.

maybe it’s the way he laughs, or calls you pretty when he’s not calling you “doc”. maybe it’s the way you relate to him, both being people with risky jobs. in a broken world like this, either of you could go at any minute. but he helps you accept it, and he helps you embrace it.

but maybe it’s the way he tries to reach a hand out to hold yours on the table during a particularly hard part of the conversation, but restrains himself, a dejected and heartbroken expression on his face.

how ironic that the only thing you want is the only thing you cannot have. not just yet, at least.

it’s been three days since squad z perished in tokyo’s biggest hot zone, and meguru is not doing well.

it started with erratic vitals - high blood pressure, arrhythmia, severe migraines, then escalated violent outbursts. your superiors don’t allow you in the room with him any more, even though you’d bet your life he would never hurt you. it hurts to see him like this. delirious, in mourning, broken.

he is not the man he once was, and you’re not entirely sure he’ll live long enough to see that change.

he still talks with you, so at least that hasn’t changed. you are one of the last few scientists on earth even remotely close to synthesising a cure, since many have been wiped out already. it’s stressful, frankly, and you’ve had shameful, selfish thoughts about ending it all - joining the dead before you are forced to walk amongst them. but meguru tells you to keep your chin up, doc, you’re getting there.

and who are you to say no to him, if not for the fact that he’s not doing much better himself?

you open up to him once, more than you think you should. you tell him about how you’ve wanted to be a scientist for the longest time as a child, but before that, you wanted to be a singer. but your parents saw no future in it. so you never pursued it further.

in the quiet of the space between you, then, meguru bachira asks if you would sing for him.

and you do.

you don’t even notice when he starts to cry, but you know that you’re crying too.

you bring him flowers sometimes. he lets them die in a corner of the confinement cell. you can’t blame him for not even trying.

the horde has broken in.

all your colleagues, your superiors, your friends - they’re all gone. they’ve all been reduced to mindless monsters, hungry for human flesh. now, those monsters push against the door, trying to get to you.

you stare back through the glass, eyes landing on meguru, who convulses on the ground, clutching his head. his head jerks backwards, blood spilling from his mouth. just like all the others. you let out a sob, your heart aching for him.

you fumble for your phone.

the air smells like blood, and meguru looks like hell.

you pad towards him slowly, tears streaming down your face. you freeze when he notices you, hunger in his bloodshot eyes. you take a step towards him. hold his hand. embrace him. tilting your head to the side, exposing your neck to him.

he’s crying now as he mumbles something. it sounds like i’m sorry and thank you. maybe it’s both. you feel hot breath on your neck, and his sharp teeth sinking into your skin.

and all is well in the world.

bllk masterlist || general masterlist © sirhamburrger 2025

#phantasmaebg #phantasma ebg #kai writes #blue lock #blue lock x reader #bllk #bllk x reader #meguru bachira #bachira meguru #bachira x reader #bachira x you #bachira oneshot #bachira fluff #i love bachira

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havin-fun-imagining-twd · 3 days ago

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Trust Nelly's instincts

Aw hey, time for the infamous second pharmacy run

What -- Maggie said that the area where the drugstore is has been empty. Thank God, an uneventful trip sounds great! And nothing has gone wrong with keeping the secret about the barn, so, things are looking pretty good right now. And it's so weird that you thought it looked like Carl had a gun tucked into the waistband of his cargos, right? As if.

Who -- The series is slow-burning, canon-compliant Daryl x Reader. In this chapter, you're joined by Maggie, Glenn, Hershel, Lori, Carl, big brother Shane, Rick, Dale, a cameo by Jimmy, and most importantly: Nelly! (<- she's the horse)

When -- Chronologically after "A near-perfect Sunday," Meaning we're back where we left off in Season 2. This chapter takes place in S02 episode Secrets, and as with all chapters that take place directly in an episode, there is word-for-word show dialogue.

Special note -- The last chapter published was a time skip all the way to Daryl Spinoff Season 1, for those who want a little bit of non-linear fun featuring angst and fluffy yearning

Perspective -- 2nd person

Pronouns - none

TWs - mild language, bad screenshots, some intense scenes.

Masterlist to the rest of the Slowpoke Series :D

Trust Nelly's instincts

-------------------------------------

Morning

-------------------------------------

“I feel so special!” you sing. Nervous Nelly is letting you ride her again!

Mr. Greene gave you permission to ride her at your request. In fact, you can’t help but squeal, “Thank you, Mr. Greene!” one last time. You hadn't expected your squeal to travel quite so far, but you see his tiny, far off form turn ever so slightly and raises his hand in acknowledgment. Ha.

Thrice so far you’ve practiced riding on horseback for the pharmacy trip. You’ll be leaving with Maggie and Glenn closer to noon, and the trip might should last an hour and a half to two hours? Maybe less, you don’t know. After target practice, T-Dog is doing an extended search for Sophia today with Carol and Rick, so he’s not coming anymore.

The list is all ready to go. You’re going to look for one of the bio-identical types of progestogen that Lori was prescribed before. She’d miscarried a bunch of times, and finally (finally) her doc had her try it out because Lori had done the research and brought it up. The first trial ended in another loss, as was expected. Except she didn’t get pregnant again that she knew of until now.

As for the Rh shot, you have no idea if it would even work anymore. You don’t know how it’s supposed to be stored or what the shelf life is. But there's a high chance she’ll need it if both baby and her are going to survive.

Ooh, maybe the pharmacy has a manual you can utilize! Like, you have a Merck Manual but it only goes so far.

Either way, your prayer is that Lori and new baby make it to the finish line together. Another loss, now, may be too much for her to handle.

“You’re the sweetest horse, yes you are, sugar,” you coo. “Such a pretty, sweet horse, Nelly, such a sweet, sensitive girl.” *muah!* “I love you, Nelly-belly!”

The snickering you hear is…ah, Jimmy’s.

Side-eyeing him, you make your accent fancy like Blanche Devereaux’s and pretend to glower. “Hmph! It appears young James is jealous of our bond, Miss Eleanor. Pay the boy no mind.” If only your attempt to turn her around like a pro didn’t result in her doing a 360. Twice. In opposing directions when you tried to correct her, oof, that’s embarrassing.

“I thought you’d ridden before.”

“I did for fun when I visited friends at a rez in Oklahoma. We’d hang at the ranch nearby.” You were so painfully homesick the first (and second and third and fourth) time(s) that it’s shocking you chose to go back in one or two-week increments during so many summers. How Zee and Suri survived those entire summers visiting their mom’s side of the family out of state, mostly away from their parents, you may never know. “I learned how to ride a motorcycle there, too.”

“Cool, you know how to ride a motorcycle?”

“Yes indeed!”

He must be so proud of his follow-up: “Do you ride ’em better than you ride horses?”

“Difficult to say when clearly I am a great expert on the saddle, farm boy,” you goof off.

Jimmy just chuckles and brings the brush and hoof pick back to the stables.

You try your hand at having the horse canter (is that the word for horse jogging? Or is that trotting?). It goes okay. You just need to remember to use the reins to slow her down, not your feet, which make the opposite happen.

After 10 or so more minutes of practice during which you go back and forth pretending you’re in the Lord of the Rings or in the Old West, you hop down and hitch her to the fence post so you can pee before you go back to the campsite.

It’s your turn to wash the dishes from breakfast.

What a comfort that this trip is more than likely going to be entirely uneventful. Maggie went with Otis lots of times into town, and then her and Glenn’s trip was fine, too. According to her, the place is now empty. She hasn’t even seen any dead ones for weeks.

-------------------------------------

Mid-morning

-------------------------------------

“Glenn,” you murmur when he walks by with the latest bushel of bribery-peaches. He’s staring at the barn a little too obviously again. His skin looks clammy, too. “Did you have another nightmare about it?”

“A really bad one, right before I woke up. I keep—” he shivers. “Every time I look in that direction, it’s like déjà vu.”

“That sucks.” What else to say…“Only a few more days and we can revisit how to tell people. I really think I that time Mr. Greene will see reason. I got a feeling about it.”

“And I’ve got a feeling that they’re gonna bust down the doors and eat us.”

“They wouldn’t bother, you’re too skinny. You should eat more of them peaches,” you joke. “And enough carryin’ food like you’re still the delivery guy.”

“It helps me feel in control,” he admits. “I swear, I almost blurted it out to your brother when I was walking around with the basket just now.”

A shiver runs through you. “Well, thank you for not. Want my mp3 player?”

“No. I want to be able to hear when they break the chains around the door.”

You’re momentarily distracted when Carl walks by with a thick stick in his hands. Does he have a g…no, of course not.

It’s dumb, you thought he looked like he was packing. It was just the way his shirt was puffing out and folding because of the sheath of his knife, duh. Must be on your mind because he’s been asking and hinting more and more about learning.

Just the other day, he asked when you were helping Beth with safety switch drills if you’d teach him, too. You showed him that aspect, but repeated that he’d need express permission from both parents to learn to shoot, and suggested that he go to Uncle Shane to help him ask. Shane’s the best instructor, simply put, more than Rick and T-Dog and definitely more than you.

After standing by the adults (and Jimmy, who's taken on more and more of a role in looking for Sophia) planning the day’s search areas, your nephew takes the shady spot under the awning and leans against the side of the RV. He appears to be carving a point at the end of his stick.

Aw, it’s like the way Daryl sharpens the points of his bolts sometimes. Cute. Cuter still how he’s loving wearing Rick’s deputy hat that he gifted him. Such a little man.

It looks like Beth and Patricia asked to come to target practice again today, good. Jimmy keeps trying to shoot with the gun cocked sideways, it’s pretty funny. His mom will get a laugh out of it, hopefully.

When Shane saunters over and waves you to join, he claps his arm around your shoulders from the side with a “G’morning. Say, I, uh,” he then murmurs in your ear. “I think I need your help for this. You noticed the tracking on him, too, I assume? I saw you do that double-take and I reckon you’re right.”

You trust him entirely but want him to be wrong. Carl would have had to take a gun without permission to be carrying, an idea you don’t like one bit. “It ain’t just the way his shirt’s falling?” you quietly wish.

“I been telling you: trust your instincts. You’re not an idiot.” He briefly touches his forehead to yours, takes another bite from his half-eaten peach and tilts his head toward Carl before leading the way.

“Dude. Nice lid, man,” he tells him regarding the deputy hat, then walks around to the opposite side of the RV with the two of you. “What’s goin’ on?”

Upon getting a closer look, yes indeed, Carl is carrying.

It was well done, tucking it on the same side as the sheath. Makes it easier to miss.

“Were you trying your hand at making a bolt from scratch for Mr. Dixon or just killin’ time?” you comment about his whittling. He wouldn’t have taken a gun just for ha-has, he’s a wholeheartedly good kid. You can’t quite wrap your head around it.

“I was just killing time.”

“Well, it looked cool, punk,” you tell him softly, smiling through the disappointment. Sighing, you crouch and wait for Shane to do the rest.

Carl looks at you, then at his uncle. “I wanna learn to shoot, too. Can you teach me?”

Your brother chuckles as he sits against the RV’s front grille. “Well, man, that’s, that’s up to your parents.”

“That’s what Y/N said.”

Shane nods at you. “Y/N’s right.”

“Can you talk to them? They’ll listen to you.”

Chewing another mouthful of peach, Shane takes his time but is completely serious when he agrees, “We’ll see.”

Let down, Carl nods politely and makes as if to walk away.

You hold out your hand to slow him. “Hey. A moment, little man.”

Shane gently but firmly orders, “Let us see what you got there.”

Slowly, Carl lifts the front right side of his button-down.

“Carl Lincoln Grimes,” you cannot help gasp upon seeing exactly which gun he has tucked into his belt. “That is your mama’s.”

Your brother is staring, visibly pissed. You just know he’s imagining taking a whistling teakettle off the stovetop to help keep his cool.

It wasn’t just any pistol from the bag in the RV. No, that gun is Lori’s.

Shane looks to his left where no one is standing, hurls underhand what’s left of his peach in that direction, and stands. “Thank you,” he grunts, then strides away to get Rick and Lori.

-------------------------------------

Mystery number of uncomfortable minutes later

-------------------------------------

Lori gave Carl a chiding so effective it only needed her to state her disappointment that he’d went behind their backs. She’s so upset. So upset. You’re settled at the picnic table where Carl is awaiting his sentencing.

Briefly, you catch Lori laying her hand on her stomach, her forehead knotted in worry. Hopefully she’ll tell Rick about the pregnancy soon. Guarding this secret will only lead to more hurt the longer it stays a secret. She stands from where she’s been kneeling by you in front of her son, tucks her gun into the back pocket of her jeans, and joins the other adults. Other than Rick and yourself, Shane of course stayed, but Dale is also here.

“Bet you four quarters someone brings up how I started learning gun stuff when I was eight,” you whisper to your nephew, trying to lighten his mood.

Carl doesn’t make a yes or a no, he just sort of looks up at you, then back down at his shoes.

It sounds like Lori’s questioning herself more than anyone. “How the hell did this happen?”

“Well, it’s my fault. I let him into the RV,” Dale explains. (Except, that doesn’t make him at fault.) Here’s the kicker that he reveals, however: “He said that he wanted a walkie, that you sent him for one.”

Your mouth drops. Stealing the gun was out of character enough, but he also lied? That is not like him. At all.

Seeing your appall, Carl bows his head even more.

Poor Lori by taken by such surprise that her childhood accent begins to slip out. “So on top of everything else, he lied?” she chastises, then begins discussing something with Rick, the words too soft to make out.

Whatever they are, your brother must hear. “He wants to learn how to shoot. He asked both me and Y/N to teach him,” he says. “Now, it’s none of my business, but I’m happy to do it. It’s your call.”

“I’m not comfortable with it,” Lori is quick to answer, but her face falls into incredulity when she looks at her husband. “Oh, don’t make me out to be the unreasonable one here. Rick?”

“I know. I have my concerns, too, but—”

“—There’s no ‘but,’ he was just shot!”

Hearing her say this brings to the surface every painful detail of that awful, awful day.

Immediately and unexpectedly, you release a sob. You have to quickly stand and take a few steps away, holding your breath, trying to compose yourself and not make a scene. Shane’s familiar footfall sounds behind you, and you feel him peck a kiss on your head.

The next part of the discussion that draws your attention is your name after Rick mentions something about safe gun handling.

“Y/N, you were doing safety drills with Beth and him just the other day, is that right?”

“Ricky, leave me alone,” you huff. Carl gets up and wraps his arms around you. You hug him back and wonder how scared or responsible for others’ safety he must feel that he’d steal his mother’s firearm.

Lori is resolute. “I don’t want my kid walking around with a gun.”

“But how can you defend that?” Rick counters. “You can’t let him go around without protection.”

“He’s as safe as he’ll ever be right here,” she pleads. She did not need this today, any of this. “Look, everything you’re saying makes perfect sense. It feels wrong,” is the last thing you hear. You become consumed with second thoughts, worries, guilt over the barn. If any of them found out now…

“Do you think I can say something?” Carl whispers, still with an arm around you. “I wanna speak for myself.”

You nod and pat him on the back. “Start with somethin’ to comfort your mother.”

Rick is in the middle of telling Lori, “He’s growing up, thank God. We’ve got to start treating him more like an adult.”

“Then he needs to act like one!” The reprimand stings and you’re not even the recipient. “He’s not mature enough to handle a gun.”

Carl must’ve seen a chance, because he chooses now to speak up. “I’m not gonna play with it, Mom. It’s not a toy.” He walks toward the ring of adults as calm as could be. “I’m sorry I disappointed you. But I wanna look for Sophia and I want to defend our camp. I can’t do that without a gun.”

If you loved that kid any more, you’d explode. Just look at Lori's face, it's plain as day she's thinking the same.

“Shane’s the best instructor I know.” What a compliment from Rick. “I’ve seen him teach kids younger than Carl. Y/N was only eight.”

“I told ya someone would dredge that up,” you say under your breath. Shane raises an eyebrow at you, not being so bold as to smirk.

Carl turns and grins, however. “Guess I owe you a dollar.”

Lori appears to relent, coming to an agreement with Rick. She looks at her son and cups his chin the way she’s done for as long as you can remember.

“You will take this seriously and you will behave responsibly. And if I hear from anyone in this camp that you are not livin’ up to our expectations—”

“—He won’t let you down,” his father promises.

Lori kisses her boy on his head, kisses Rick’s cheek. She then looks at her stomach, looks at you, but averts her eyes so quickly away from yours that it gives you a pause. Something about it hits as eerily familiar, like the night at the CDC.

Red flag.

Not three minutes later when you’re finally finishing your turn on dish duty, she picks up the empty rinse pail. “Are you and Glenn still going to the pharmacy today?”

“Yes. We’re takin’ the horses. Teddy isn’t coming anymore but it will be us two and Maggie.”

“Good. I, um,” she trails off. Again, she won’t quite look at you.

What’s wrong? Did you offend her earlier? “Lore, what’s up?”

“Oh, I’m, I’m just preoccupied. It’ll be interesting to see what target practice is like,” she brushes it off.

“Everything okay with,” and you flit your gaze to her belly.

“Well, there's so bleeding or pain," she answers in a very soft voice. "And I still can’t stand the smell of meat or eggs, so..."

The best you can come up with is about as helpful as a screen door on a submarine: “Thank God we have all these peaches.”

“I cannot tell you how many I’ve eaten,” she begins to chat, seeming grateful for an excuse to change the subject. If only her smile was reaching her eyes. “Half of my body weight is probably peaches at this point.”

“Same,” you snort.

The conversation ends.

You’re left with the disquieting notion that there’s a big red flag you’ve missed.

-------------------------------------

Noon

-------------------------------------

Mr. Greene calls your name when you have just dismounted Nelly so you can lead her to the mailbox where you’re meeting Maggie and Glenn. Maggie’s going to adjust the straps on all three saddles before you three set out. You turn to Mr. Greene, happy as a clam that you’ve gotten the hang of riding Nelly and that Carl is safe with both mom and dad at target practice. After this morning’s drama, the rest of the day will seem a breeze!

You look at him.

Hershel’s gaze is too intent and direct.

Your stomach twists.

It’s so direct that a strange sense of dread and defeat presses down on you before he’s said a word.

“I am aware that you and he know.”

This stops you dead in your tracks.

No.

No, he can’t know.

The way he’s peering at you suggests that he can see straight into your mind. “To clarify, I am aware that you and your friend know about whom we are safeguarding in the barn.”

Your breathing turns shallow and quick. “But we ain’t told nobody!” slips out before you can speak with proper grammar and less twang. “W-We haven’t told anybody, sir,” isn’t much of an improvement.

If the old man had pulled a gun on you, you’d be less terrified than you are now.

He’s going to kick you all out and it’s all your fault. It’s your fault, you should’ve — if you’d — how stupid could you have been to — oh, fuck!

Lori’s voice, her words that helped get you through the panic come back to you, “Try this with me, honey.” Slowly in through the nose, out through the mouth. Yet, with this panic comes a curious style of anger that you’re almost tempted to call righteous.

“Sir, we respected your daughter’s wishes and told no one. We, we went ag-gag-” you pause, slow down, regain control over your speech. “We went against what we’ve learned. We kept quiet, and that’s, that’s with an injured man and a child among us. Sir, we are riskin’ their safety,” you very nearly lose your cool when saying.

Breathe. Take the kettle off the burner.

“If you’re of mind to, to kick us off your land for simply,” you swallow, “knowing what’s in there, I am beggin’ you, please, reconsider. Please.” You are unable to look him in the eyes for more than a second.

Unreadable. He’s unreadable.

Why isn’t he responding, at least, so you can know what the verdict is? Swing the gavel, already!

Not knowing what to do, you keep blabbing against the disquieting notion within you that you may be digging a deeper hole. “You ain’t the — I mean, you are not — the sort of man to punish the whole for an honest mistake of the few. You, you, y-you are the sort of man who,” you take a deep breath with palms open in supplication, “Rick and I was two blood-soaked strangers. Carl was a child with a shotgun wound.” How weak your voice sounds, as if already beaten. “You let us in through your doors and saved his life. That’s the kind of person you are.”

He finally answers. “So, you are aware of my reservations regarding your group.”

“We all are.”

“Again, I am inclined to appreciate your plainspokenness.”

A weak giggle.“I would say it’s more I can’t shut my mouth at times.”

Did he just find that amusing? “And yet, you have not spoken of what you know about the sick men and women.”

‘Sick men and women.’ Would it be a lapse of you to not address how wrong he is? If he’s already set to kick everyone out, maybe this is the last chance you have to change his mind.

It must’ve been written on your face because he calls it out. “And you appear to disagree with my referring to them as such.”

“Folk have to die to turn. Their souls have moved on.”

“There should be no indication of memory, in that case. I have witnessed it.”

You stand straighter. “The virus hijacks the deceased’s nervous system,” you say without a hint of a stutter. Maybe this will save you all, your speaking up at this very moment. Shane told you to trust your instincts, and they’re screaming at you to speak up.

“That is your opinion, then?” he asks, but not dismissively. He sounds genuinely curious.

“It is not my opinion, it’s a fact we learned right from the scientist at the CDC,” you risk stating. You're breathing too fast now. It’s making your fingers numb like they did before the panic attack, and your cheeks are so heated you’re beginning to sweat. “My opinion is that letting them walk is akin to desecration of a corpse, a-and I believe those people deserve a burial.”

Okay, it’s done, you’ve said your piece.

And regret it immediately.

Oh, Y/N, you stupid, stupid idiot.

You are not courageous enough to meet his eyes yet because you can tangibly feel his stare.

“Then I must ask you…” Oh, no, you stupid, stupid idiot, Y/N. “…How you could allow such a thing to continue, if you indeed feel so strongly?”

Nelly appears to become agitated.

Your bottom lip begins to wobble. “Sir, w-we need someplace safe.” This conversation is not only defeating, it’s humiliating. “We are completely at your mercy, Mr. Greene, you know this.”

“So at my mercy that you’d allow ‘corpses’ to be ‘desecrated.’”

That word must have really struck a nerve. You stupid, stupid, idiot.

“Th-they’re contained,” you attempt. If he leaves before you can smooth things, it’s on you if your people are kicked out. On. You. And when someone is killed because the lot of you got kicked out, it will be entirely on you, their blood on your hands. The hand you used to stanch the flow from Amy’s neck begins to feel covered in it once more. “They can’t hurt nobody in there, so that’s, um—y-you’re givin’ them dignity and reverence in that way. That’s not immoral.”

The description, you hope will offset the clear sting that the word ‘desecration’ had on him.

It wasn’t all a lie on your part, either. He is clearly trying to give those walkers dignity. He just doesn’t understand that they’re dead and not coming back.

“Y/N, thank you for your candor but please do not feel the need to hold my hand. There are far more troubling outlooks than yours,” he calmly intones. “I surmise that you are not aware that the older gentleman in your group now knows.”

Excuse you? “You mean Mr. Horvath knows?” You stare at your clean, non-bloodied hand to prove that it's not soaked.

“He described having taken a walk near the barn, hearing the sick inside. He was the picture of respect. However…”

You’re starting to feel unstable on your feet. What’s the catch?

“When I discussed this with my family, Maggie was inclined to believe that your friend had told him. This, of course, led to my being made known that the two of you had also made the discovery.”

You lift your eyes through the fear to meet his, one hand on the fence post for stability. “Sir. Are we to leave right quick?”

“No.”

“When should we be ready, sir,” you don’t even bother to make sound like a question. You wipe your hand on your shirt but the feeling of it being sticky with blood remains. “I-I only wish to be prepared.” You stupid, stupid idiot.

“I’ve not made any decision yet on the matter.” He hasn’t made — what? “Young Carl requires more time to recuperate and there’s the sad fact of the young girl being not yet found.”

You grip the fencepost. The group isn’t kicked out?

Mr. Greene continues, unaware that your relief is so intense that you just might float away. “Daryl is not quite on his feet yet, either, and seeing as he is one of the stronger members of your group, it wouldn’t be charitable to — are you well?”

You’re leaned against the post with your eyes closed because you started to see sparkles. Mr. Greene repeats his question.

“Mmhm,” you breathe. “Sir, are you sure you’re not drivin’ us off now?”

There are a few moments where he doesn’t respond. When he does, it’s in a low, soft tone. “You were under the impression I sought you out in anger, to order your group off my land?”

You aren’t thinking straight. Admitting, “If you’d held a gun to my head, I’d have been less scared out my wits,” is completely unintentional.

“Y/N, I,” you hear him sigh. “I am sorry that the prospect is so thoroughly frightening. To answer you clearly: no. I have not made any hard decisions as of yet. For the time being, your people are still recovering and getting settled.”

Rather than the sheer gratitude you intend to convey, you manage one, breathless, solitary: “O-Okay.”

“Oh, child…” He takes something out of his shirt pocket and offers it to you. A handkerchief.

You accept it and use it to blot your eyes dry and wipe your nose.

“It was not my intention to cause so much anxiety. I merely wished to convey my thanks, and to gain assurance that you would continue to maintain discretion. Please accept my thanks,” he softly drawls, careful in his wording. “For the respect and understanding that you and your friend are showing to the sick individuals under my care.”

‘The sick individuals.’ If only they were. He is so convinced that they’re merely sick, that you feel pain for him.

“They are of no threat to your people,” he then assures you. “They are well-contained. My own family would be in danger if they were not, so please, take solace that they are secure. The only way they would get out is if someone took the effort and time to let them out.”

“Okay.” If there’s an elegant way to save the conversation, it’s lost on you.

You do finally look him in the eye for longer than glance. He’s squinting in a way similar to how Rick does. Particularly, he appears concerned.

“Are you feeling well enough to accompany Margaret and the boy to the drugstore?”

You sniff and shuffle your feet. “Yes, sir.”

“You two are experienced in such outings, I’ve gathered.”

“Glenn and I have gone on many. We’re a good team.”

“I think they’re waiting for you by the gate,” he says with a nod toward their direction. “God protect you. And — Y/N? When you’re out there, trust Nelly’s instincts.”

-------------------------------------

35 minutes later

-------------------------------------

La-ti-da, the rest of the day will be a breeze compared to this morning’s drama, well, what a clueless little dewdrop you were.

The talk with Hershel notwithstanding, Glenn decided to be the biggest, most embarrassing nerd in the entire world and make the trip the worst, most awkward trip in the world!

Okay, might could be you’re exaggerating.

But he did say to Maggie seemingly out of the blue, “You didn’t have to come. You could hate me from a distance,” to only follow it up with “Please say something.” Like, was the man serious?

Maggie, so far, hasn’t uttered a peep in reply.

You as well are leaning toward saying silent. All you’d said was your short piece when the three of you first set off, explaining what Mr. Greene was talking to you about and that you were taking the rear, thank-you-very-much. The stress and panic from earlier mutated into getting m-a-d.

Although, there was also the brief incident where you, maybe due to being overtired or still out-of-it from speaking with Hershel, started absently giggling over the line from Friends, ‘They don’t know that we know that they know!”

Maggie smiled vaguely when you explained.

From your spot in back it’s really not so uncomfortable and awkward a trip. Every so often, you look behind you and to either side. So far, it’s been all-clear every time. It’s a treat, really.

More houses, spaced far apart, begin to come into view. Soon there are street signs and overgrown sidewalks.

So far, things have been very uncomfortable but entirely undramatic and uneventf—

“Whoa, Nelly belly, you okay?”

Her ears have gone back and she’s resisting going further.

“What’s up? Is there something scary, sugar?” you softly worry aloud. “Margaret, Glenn?” you call.

Maggie looks back to see the horse reacting to whatever is spooking her. Her eyes narrow and she looks all around.

“I know she’s ‘nervous’ but,” you lose your train of thought. “I’ll get off and lead her, Maggie?” you then ask more than decide, but dismount all the same. Don’t want to get reared off like Daryl.

Glenn sits up straight, alert and scanning the area. “Do you think she sees one?”

“I ain’t too sure.” Mr. Greene’s warning to ‘Trust Nelly’s instincts,’ pops into your head. “Maybe she smells one.” Like you'd been taught, you reach up to stroke her t-spot and help soothe her. She mainly pulls her head away from the attempt.

“Try a treat, too,” Maggie suggests. “Eating comforts them into feeling safer.”

You take the butter knife and one of the peaches (don’t worry about running out, you packed 7 peaches) from your bookbag and slice it in half to remove the pit. “I’ll lead her on foot,” you decide.

Maggie seems wary. “We’re almost there.”

She and Glenn go on. Nelly permits you to lead her, so you feel better.

Her instincts are saying it’s okay to go now.

-------------------------------------

5 minutes later

-------------------------------------

Maggie had described it as empty. Empty it sure is. It’s nice to see a commercial area that doesn’t have much broken glass or trash.

It does get to you sometimes; when you and Shane went to scrounge for what you could back when the lootings had died down, neither of you smashed things. Why did people smash things? Break stuff, trash stuff, steal stuff? The riots were such bullsh — you’re being uncharitable again. Right and wrong aside, people were panicked and going mad. Not that it’s a good reason, but still, few are immune to mass hysteria. When people are scared or angry, it’s contagious and folk aren’t in their right minds.

Besides, walkers were responsible for some of the smashed glass, namely full-length windows. They ran fast in the onset and getting cut on glass doesn’t bother them.

Anyway, yeah, this area didn’t have much of that, it seems. Granted, you’re at the edge of the ‘downtown,’ but the street looks great, to be honest. A lot of windows in the small buildings are intact.

In a sudden rush of excitement, you call, “Sophia! It’s Y/N and Glenn! Are you here, baby?”

No answer.

“Sophia!”

No answer.

You shake your head and walk faster, Nelly matching your pace.

Looks like the drugstore is ahead to the left. The inside appears pretty bare-bones from what you can tell from the outside.

Now is when Glenn attempts to talk more. “Maggie, I—”

“—I asked for your trust and you betrayed it. Now my dad’s pissed at me.” Maggie immediately claps back. “Your turn.”

“So your dad thinks they’re sick?”

“You know they all do,” you murmur to yourself. God, help them see, you pray simply.

“You agree with that, even after what you saw at the well?” he puts to her, and good on him. She and her dad could use some cold, hard truth. If only her father had seen the walker at the well.

“I’m not sure what I saw at the well,” Maggie answers uncomfortably. She dismounts and moves to hitch her horse to one of the beams in front of the pharmacy.

Glenn looks at you for support before challenging her, “Yes, you are.”

“Maggie, we saw it together,” you agree softly. “Split in half, still biting.”

“And there’s no way a person, sick or not, could survive that!” Glenn exclaims. “Look, if you saw Atlanta, you would not have a barn full of walkers!”

“I wish you would stop callin’ them that!” Maggie yells.

Glenn softens. “What do you call them?”

“Mom. Shawn,” she goes on, tying her horse’s lead with such ease that she hardly needs to look. “Mr. and Mrs. Fischer. Lacey. Duncan.”

It hadn’t really made sense to you until now that, for the Greenes, they are (were?) operating with a confidence that a cure was possible, that their loved ones were only sick. To learn after all these months, after hoping and putting in all that work to keep them ‘safe’, to learn that they have been dead and cannot come back is somehow less bearable to imagine going through.

“I’ll hitch the horses. I’m still worried about Nelly, so I’m gonna stay out here awhile,” you mumble to Glenn, then pull out the updated list you’d made and hand it to him. “I made three more copies. It’s got some updates from the last one.”

“I’ll help you with the reins,” Maggie answers for him, and takes over tying the horse’s lead for him.

Glenn stares at the ground, says “I have my own list,” and goes inside by himself.

That doesn’t irritate at all…

Maggie doesn’t speak until all three horses are securely tied to the poles. “Maybe it should’ve been just you and me today.”

“Glenn’s smart and fast. It’s better to have him here.”

“So smart he can’t keep his mouth shut.”

You have to admit, you groaned in solidarity at her comment. “He’s saved lives before, for what it’s worth,” you do need to point out.

She looks at you, then stares into space. “I’m so angry at him.”

It’s worth mentioning…“Maybe that’s a little how we feel about the barn, too.”

She places her hands on her hips. “Are you on his side, now?” she accuses.

“Come now, that ain’t fair.”

Nelly pulls back, agitated again.

“Baby, what’s the matter?” you shush to the horse. “Margaret, I’m gonna take a turn around the street.”

Maggie cautiously steps around the building, looking to either side while you do the same in the opposite direction.

“It’s clear over here,” she confirms. “Y/N, I’m gonna go inside, finish getting what we need faster.” Was that a scoff? “Lori sure knows how to ask for things. She should go fetch it all herself next time.”

Nope. You get that Maggie’s pissed, but you’re not even entertaining that bullshit attitude about Lori, especially not today. Where’d that even come from? The woman has literally done nothing to her. “Not everything on the list is needed," you offer, "but she makes them thorough because it’s with everyone’s input and needs in mind. Don’t go trashin’ her.”

At this, Margaret storms into the drugstore, leaving you outside, alone.

Good riddance, you were fixing to get huffy. Why can’t people get along and be zen for five minutes, good Moses…

You step quietly and quickly around the street, peeking through the short alleys (if they can even be called that), and making a loop around the pharmacy itself. You swear you hear rattling near the back right corner of the drug store, but Nelly’s loud whinnying mixes with your trying to pinpoint whereabouts it came from.

You call Sophia’s name again, just in case.

However, a raccoon bolting away from the general direction of the sound makes an end of both your worry and your hope. The subsequent thought you get to shoot it for food makes you sigh at the state of things. Moreso the thought that you highly prefer squirrel. But like, squirrel is hecking delicious, so oh my gosh, listen to you.

Having found no reason for Nelly’s unrest, you chalk it up to her being sensitive to the emotions of the humans with her, simple as. Her name is genuinely ‘Nervous Nelly.’

She’s still tugging at her lead, but has quieted enough.

‘Trust Nelly’s instincts’ plays through your mind again. If Mr. Greene thought it important enough to suggest it, it must be. You don’t like that she’s still uneasy.

“Nell, I’m gonna head in so we can get everythin’ and split, okay? Not much longer, won’t be ten minutes.”

You push the doors open and walk into the pharmacy. Glenn’s to the left. “Hey, man. What did you cross off the list so far?” you ask.

“I’ve been distracted. Sorry.”

“Where’s the one you made?” you question with just a hint of an attitude.

“Maggie has it. I wasn’t sure where to find…something on it.”

“Oh, what was it? I’ll go help.”

“I-I, it, she, th—nothing,” he stumbles through before pretending this could work: “I don’t know.”

You lick your teeth. What is with him today? “I’m glad you’re learnin’ to keep secrets,” you let slip in your frustration.

“Great. Now you’ve crawled up my butt, too.” He swipes a lotion off the shelf without looking and goes toward the doors, away from you.

Licking your teeth but holding your tongue, you figure you’ll start at the back of the small store and work your way forward. The prescription drugs are in the back where Maggie already is.

Ooh. The shelves back there look like there’s still a decent amount of stock on them.

“Need any help?” you extend the olive branch.

It’s not subtle the way she turns her head right, glares at Glenn, then answers, “Not for this.”

Whatever the hell that means. Seriously, can people just be zen for five minutes?

You throw your hands in the air. “Fine!” Glancing around the pharmacy section and not really clocking anything because you’re too caught up, you mutter, “There’s gotta be a manual somewhere,” and head left where it looks like there are a few smaller rooms.

There’s a strange scent in here that smells suspiciously like the dead. Must be a rodent that died in the walls?

The door to the first small room looks like it had to be crow-barred open by someone at some point. You step inside to look at the desk.

But the loud whinny from outside gives you a pause.

Trust Nelly’s instincts.

But she’s been acting up for seemingly no reason.

Trust Nelly’s instincts.

The hairs on your arms stand. You turn around, walk back to the middle, and turn your focus to the windows where you can see the horses are still hitched.

“Maggie," you quietly question. "This is normal for her?”

It’s only Nelly who’s rearing and trying to escape. The other horses seem disquieted, but only Nelly is panicked.

Trust Nelly’s instincts.

It’s the clatter of pill bottles falling to the floor that has you forgetting all about the fighting, the disagreements, the worries, and the stress.

Because the sounds of snarling only mere yards away is unmistakable even before Maggie begins to scream.

There’s a walker, reaching through the shelves that has a death grip on her wrist.

You throw yourself hard against the back-to-back storage shelving to keep it from falling on your friend and to push the dead man away from her even slightly.

“Glenn! The shelves, I can’t!” you yelp into the chaos, groaning from the strain of keeping the shelving from toppling over. “It’s got her wrist!”

But in an instant, the shelves abruptly stabilize; you lose balance and tumble hard to the ground. The walker, you twist on hands and knees to see, is rounding the corner and already — no, Margaret! It’s got its hands on her again, it’s gonna —

The few seconds it takes for you, roaring, to whip out your screwdriver and spring up from the floor seem too long, too late. The clumsy angle between it and Maggie at which you attempt to drive your weapon into its skull doesn’t work, and it tumbles from your hand and onto the ground.

The new fastest second of your life — seeing the walker’s mouth lunge for your forearm — seems to also, somehow, drag at a snail’s pace. It’s in that strange, rapid slow-motion that you rip your arm away and kick.

You reach for your pistol in a last ditch effort. The risk of the shot spraying the walker’s contaminated blood in your or her eyes or mouth outweighs the guarantee of its bite.

Ultimately, it's Glenn’s quick action with the metal board that saves you both.

From the countertop, he swings it with all his strength. Though you aren’t aware of having choosen to do so, it seems you’ve pulled Maggie down and back to get her as far from the force of the strike and the trajectory of the walker’s fall.

It collapses.

For a moment, everything turns still.

Maggie is too shocked to cry or say anything. Your arms are wrapped tightly around her even as you still tightly clutch your firearm. You can’t speak, either.

“Did it get you? Did it bite you?” Glenn cries, and you snap back to the present and begin to inspect Maggie’s arms, wrists, and hands while he squeezes her and you to him.

When the walker stands back up, its head hanging by half its neck, you have to cover Maggie’s eyes. She’s seen enough.

Glenn tries to use Daryl’s sickle machete to finish it, but ends up having to try over and over in a fury when it keeps gargling and snarling despite the blows. It’s gruesome.

You shout Glenn’s name and aim your gun at the walker, finishing it when Glenn sees and has moved away far enough to avoid the spray. The blast of the shot reverberates loudly in the closed space.

Finally, finally, all turns quiet and stays quiet. Safety switched on, you rely on muscle memory to tuck your weapon back into its concealed holster.

Glenn is panting. Maggie starts to waver where she stands, sobs coming out as the shock wears off.

You go to her. “It didn’t get you Margaret, look, all clean. J-just a little of its blood on your shirt,” you console, showing her her own wrists and arms that are trembling but blessedly uninjured. You recall the handkerchief in your pocket. “Here. Your daddy lent me this. Use it to wipe your eyes, don’t rub with your hands or arms until we get you cleaned up, o-okay? I-I got wipes, I got wipes and sanitizer. That should suit for now, sweetheart, okay?”

After a few more moments of catching your breath, you decide, “Y’all need something to drink and eat, I’ll, I’ll go get the backpack.” It’ll give Glenn and Maggie time to embrace in private. All is forgiven, you’re quite sure.

Picking up your screwdriver, you walk outside in a post-adrenaline daze. Typical for you, the post-adrenaline nausea is hitting, too. Some tears, as well. You note upon stepping into the fresh air that Nelly is calmer.

Much calmer.

Last you knew, she’d been trying to break free and escape. Right before the walker attacked, in fact…

‘Trust Nelly’s instincts.’

You wonder. If her whinnying hadn’t prompted you to take a few steps back toward Maggie’s direction, would you have had those precious extra seconds of time? Your slamming against the shelves when you did pushed the walker back enough to unsteady it, which bought Maggie the chance to free her wrist from its grasp. It gave Glenn more time to grab that piece off the metal shelving and leap up on the counter to strike it. If you hadn’t turned around because of the horse…

“Trust Nelly’s instincts,” Mr. Greene had instructed.

“Thank you, girl,” you whisper to the horse, with shaking hands blindly opening the bookbag. “I th-think you just saved some lives, Nell.”

Not only this, but the whole awful encounter showed Maggie firsthand that the walkers aren’t sick people. They’re dead. It’s the virus that makes their bodies move and walk and bite.

This terrifying day may just be your people’s saving grace.

Because if Maggie understands, her father will be more willing. And if her father understands, the walkers will be laid to rest. No more danger. No more disagreement.

You’ll still need to leave with Shane, but there’s a better chance that the group will be safe at the farm.

You praise “Thank you!” to the heavens, then boldly press a smooch to the spot above Nelly’s nose. She briefly allows you to rest your forehead there. “And thank you for your instincts.”

------------------------------------------

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femme-masculine · 2 days ago

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Wow, so I really wanted to have a civil discussion regarding this topic but it seems hopeless.

I didn't say it never happens; like you I was sharing my experiences with tirfs, which seem to differ a lot from yours. I am genuinely curious who would be saying that, and like you, I would be disagreeing with them.

this is my blog where i share my opinions, if you don’t like or agree with them, move the fuck along.

Your blog is public. Besides, how do we expect women's rights to advance if we completely ignore what people have to say? If people just moved along all the time, nothing would progress.

a feminine straight guy being mistaken as gay is literally in no way comparable to the male skinwalkers who try to pretend they’re women, and you yourself know why- because that straight man isn’t PRETENDING to be gay, or EXPECTING OTHERS to perceive him as or treat him as if he were gay. trans identified males literally do both. what the fuck is your point.

This ignores the context for which I was making the comparison. In no way was I saying trans women actually experience the hardship of those who are female, I was saying they can't "larp" abuse they receive for looking like one. I too completely disagree with the idea that we have the same experiences. We don't.

and thank you for the condescension, but i’m not actually stupid; i know that men who are perceived as feminine can experience homophobia or sometimes even misdirected misogyny. but why the fuck is that feminism’s or women’s problem?? you are literally no better than libfems screeching ‘intersectionality’ at the top of your lungs, meaning women have to solve everyone else’s problems before we’re even allowed to think about our own.

? I don't think it's feminism's problem either. I was just explaining what I personally observed from tirfs, which was exactly challenging the idea they actually believe cis women and trans women face the same experiences.

Men. Don’t. Belong. In. Feminism. End of. I say once again, for the slow ones in the back, there is no nuance to be had here. Males are male, no matter how efeminate, gay or otherwise, and their concerns, whatever they may be, ARE NOT THE CONCERNS OF WOMEN OR FEMINISM.

Males don't belong in feminism at all, I agree with this. My "nuance" comes from how I think we should treat gender dysphoric individuals, many of them which are female.

you think you’re coming off as ‘nuanced’ or very intelligent, but you’re just coming off as libfem stupid, someone who can’t grasp the basic fucking terminology involved- which is exactly what i said in my original comment about ‘tirfs’ so way to prove my point how none of this ever happens.

I am honestly not sure what this is in reference to.

‘radical’ means ‘the root of’. as in feminism that addresses the root cause of patriarchy, which is MALES HATING AND OPPRESSING FEMALES. take your watered down bullshit and get out of here, you don’t belong here.

So, we agree?

You are trying to push away women from radfem spaces who share the same basic opinions about radical feminism: wanting to eradicate male oppression of females.

There is not at a single point in my original post where I said, or even implied, that males of any kind belong in radical feminism.

I've just realised the influx of 'tirfs' on here is bcs of Tiktok. They're so smarmy about having the "correct, nuancefem" opinion because they were raised (so to speak) on the clock app. Lol. Lmao, even. Good luck ig 🤗

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prettycopperpennies · 5 hours ago

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Falling Walls | Kang Dae-ho (Player 388) x F!Reader Oneshot

Description: If Dae-ho thought you would be an easy ally he had another think coming. (golden retreiver x black cat type shit. Slow burn)

Warning: Cursing, Toxic Ex (not Dae-ho), no gore but the setting is squid games.

Dae-ho x Female Reader

Player 456 was telling the truth. You were in shock as you saw people falling to the ground out of the corner of your eyes. You listened much closer the second time Player 456 ran to the front of the group and yelled out instructions.

“Get behind someone bigger than you,” he said, his last command before the massive doll turned its back to the rest of you.

Suddenly you were being maneuvered. Player 388 had stuck out a strong arm and swooped you behind him. You were surprised by how quickly he jumped into action, but your incredulity only lasted a few moments. With a huff you stepped out of his shadow. You made it a few steps before you had to freeze again right beside Player 388.

“Didn’t you hear what he said? ‘Get behind someone bigger’,” he said, clearly surprised by you overtaking him. You glared ahead, not daring to move.

Dae-ho was completely lost. He had moved out of his way to help you, and it’s not like he expected you to be worshiping the ground he walked on for it, but he definitely did not think you would be annoyed.

As soon as the song began again you turned your head in his direction and said, “Didn’t you hear what he said? If you’re going to talk when we’re not supposed to move then you had better cover your mouth.”

Dae-ho’s mouth was agape, not sure how to respond. Lucky for him he didn’t have to think up something to say; you were already moving far past him. He could have easily kept up with you, but an older player had taken your place behind him. He couldn’t leave a defenseless old woman behind so his only option was to watch you as you made your way across the field.

You turned around when you crossed the finish line watching with bated breath as the other players tried to cross in time. You exhaled when Player 456 and Player 120 just barely dragged an injured man across the line, but as soon as they crossed over the hurt player was “eliminated”.

You jumped when you heard the gunshot ring out, and jumped a second time when you felt a hand on your shoulder.

“It’s because that player was supposed to be taken out of the game earlier. I don’t think they’re just attacking random players now, it’s okay,” a voice said.

You turned your head to see it was Player 388.

What is his deal? you asked yourself as you shrugged off his shoulder.

“I know that,” you said curtly, turning on your heel and walking towards the opening doors. You wanted to get away from the now blood soaked playing field, creepy doll, and the annoyingly friendly Player 388 as soon as possible.

What’s her deal? Dae-ho asked himself as he watched you walk away. He couldn't figure you out, but unfortunately for you he was determined to.

1 YEAR EARLIER

You were sitting on the couch, surrounded by tons of papers. Receipts, debt notices, loan statements, threatening letters, and an eviction notice. The lines of letters and numbers (way, way, way too many numbers) started to blur as you began to well up with tears.

You heard the door open but never close, and you looked up to find your boyfriend frozen in the door frame. You grabbed fistfuls of paper; not even making a dent in the haphazard stacks around you. Your boyfriend flinched as you held them up for him to see.

“When were you going to tell me about… all this?” you asked.

He didn’t answer and instead took a few tentative steps towards you.

“Don’t,” you warned, trying to sound intimidated as your voice quivered.

He didn’t listen to your one word warning as he slowly closed the space between you with each step.

“I’m so serious. I’m not just going to forgive you,” you said.

He was close enough to reach out a hand, cupping your tear stained cheek with his palm before saying, “I don’t expect you to. I fucked up-”

“Yeah, you did,” you said. Your tone was stern and unforgiving, but you still hadn’t brushed away his hand.

“I know. I’m sorry,” he said.

“We’re getting evicted,” you said, tears now freely running down your face. He sat down next to you pulling you into a tight hug. You folded into it. Even though it was all his fault, he had always been the one to comfort you.

“I’m going to fix this, okay?” he said, “You don’t need to worry. It’s my fault. I’ll fix it.”

“No,” you said with a shake of your head, “This is a partnership. I don’t care who’s fault it is. We get through this together.”

“Really?” he said with relief as he pulled out of the hug to hold your cheek in his hand once again.

“You would do the same for me,” you said.

“Of course I would,” he said.

You sighed, feeling a glimmer of hope. You could always count on him to help you feel better about anything, no matter how hopeless it seemed before.

PRESENT DAY

Everyone in your vicinity started to cheer, but you stayed stoic. Yes, you had just won the vote, but you weren’t elated. It was simply a pragmatic decision on your part. It was not like you wanted to stay. You simply had no other choice.

As you walked back towards your bunk you saw the player who kept trying to help you during the first game. You were surprised to see he had voted O. You figured he would want to end the games immediately before anyone else got hurt. His own eyes went over the crowd and landed on you. You quickly looked away, hoping against hope he hadn’t noticed your staring.

“There is no way we both showed up wearing the same thing,” a familiar voice said. You rolled your eyes before turning to face Player 388. He was sporting a sarcastically shocked expression, looking between your outfit and his.

He pointed to your blue O patch and his before saying, “I mean, it’s down to the accessories and everything. What are the chances?”

You bit the inside of your cheek. There was no way in hell you were about to crack a smile over such a cheesy joke. You scoffed before heading in the direction of your bed.

“What I was trying to point out was we both voted O. Let’s be allies,” he said, easily keeping up with your quick pace.

“I don’t need an ally,” you said curtly. You were suddenly stopped in your tracks as he stepped in front of you.

“Are you sure about that?” he asked before gesturing with a nod to the other players.

You looked around realizing a lot of people were already forming groups. This did not bode well for you. You had meant what you said: you didn’t need an ally… Or, maybe it was more like you didn’t want an ally.

As you looked around the room Dae-ho noticed your nervous expression. He felt guilty when he saw how his point had stressed you out. He mentally kicked himself for inadvertently freaking you out.

He leaned towards you, dipping down a little to bring you closer to eye level.

“I don’t think it’s actually a big deal,” he said in a much quieter tone, attempting to make up for his comment moments earlier, “It’s more like I need an ally, you know? I’m sure you’d be fine on your own.”

You were taken back by how gentle this seemingly boisterously energized player seemed. You turned back to face him only to realize how close the two of you were.

“I know I’ll be fine,” you said, but this time you couldn’t quite manage to sound as vexed as usual.

“No, I totally agree. You seem like a badass,” he said. If jokes didn’t work in breaking down your apathetic facade maybe compliments would.

Or maybe not, Dae-ho thought to himself as you openly rolled your eyes. You side stepped around him. This time Dae-ho stayed back as you stalked off to your bed.

“I’m around if you change your mind,” he called after you.

“I won’t,” you said over your shoulder, determined to figure out a way to make your way out of this on your own.

You ate by yourself. You were one of the few people who had not seemed to find their own group of people to buddy up with. Player 388 was talking across the room to a group of men that included Player 456. He seemed completely at ease, and you found yourself almost jealous of his outgoing personality. He caught your eye once again, giving you a small wave. You did not return the gesture instead moving your eyes off him as quickly as you could.

I’ll be fine, you said to yourself, repeating the phrase once again. This time though you struggled to believe it.

SEVENTH MONTHS AGO

You were packing as fast as you could trying your best to ignore the many excuses your boyfriend was telling you.

“She’s just a friend,” he insisted for the millionth time.

“Very good friends apparently,” you spat back, wrestling with yourself to keep your tears back. This asshole was not about to make you cry.

“Y/n, it didn’t mean anything,” he said.

“To you, maybe!” you said.

“I don’t care what it meant to her. Really, I don’t. You matter so much more tha-”

“Shut up! What do you think seeing her and you together meant to me? How it felt?” you asked.

“Babe, I’m so sorry,” he said.

“Don’t call me babe. And don’t apologize. I don’t want to hear it,” you said. It wasn’t exactly true though. You couldn't help it. You still found yourself caring about him a little, and hearing him say sorry sent a squeeze to your heart no matter how much you wished it didn’t.

“I really am sorry,” he said as he reached out his hand.

He used his classic move, gently cupping your cheek as he apologized for whatever new fuck up he did. You paused for a moment, shaken by how close it was to working, before you shoved his hand away.

“I’m leaving,” you said, grabbing your bag.

“Wait, don’t go. Let’s talk, please,” he said, the words coming out quickly as he followed down the hall. You quickened your pace knowing any second now he could break your resolve. It didn’t matter how bad he hurt you, you always seemed to forgive him. But not this time.

PRESENT DAY

Your mouth went dry as soon as the voice announced over the loudspeaker to form groups of five. It was as if the universe was hell bent on proving you wrong and Player 388 right. It seemed like everyone else was making groups with ease, basically already having a group already made thanks to the previously forged friendships.

Dae-ho was giving you the space you wanted, but he couldn’t help but notice the nervous expression you wore when he spotted you in the crowd. He wanted nothing more than to go over and offer you a place on his team, but he stopped himself from going over and giving you a helping hand. It didn’t matter how much he wanted to help you; it wasn’t what you wanted. His shoulder relaxed, which he hadn’t even realized he had been tensing, when you found a group just in the nick of time.

You ended up with a group of men led by Player 100. He was surly off the bat and not at all interested in making friends which was fine by you. It wasn’t a problem till it came to choosing who would play which game.

“And you can play Jegi,” Player 100 said, assigning you a game.

“I’ve never played Jegi,” you told him.

“Then you had better find a way to practice! If you mess up, we’re all dead,” he said with a huff like it was somehow your fault for never playing.

“How would I practice?” you asked.

This is exactly why I don’t need an ally, you thought spitefully to yourself.

“There’s pebbles all over,” he said, pointing at the dirt ground you all stood at, “Pick some up. And. Practice.”

��Is everything okay over here?”

Player 388 was walking up to your team. His expression was one you hadn’t seen before, and it was surprisingly intimidating. But he wasn’t looking at you. Instead he was glaring down Player 100.

“Go back to your own team. We’re fine here,” Player 100, waving him off.

But Player 388 didn’t seem so easily scared off. He stepped between you and the old man, clearly not planning on leaving any time soon.

“Look, it’s not my fault she’s refusing to play Jegi,” Player 100 said, not backing down either.

“Are any of you good at Jegi?” Player 388 asked the rest of your group.

One member timidly raised their hand, trying their best to avoid the glares from Payer 100. Suddenly another member spoke up saying they much preferred Djaki over Spinning Top. That opened up the floodgates, and all three players on your team quickly started to admit they’d like to switch games. Player 388 looked at you with a much kinder expression (one you were used to seeing him sport).

“Which do you want to play?” he asked.

“I’m alright at Biseokchigi,” you admitted. You couldn’t tell if he was actually starting to wear you down or his earlier moment of intimidation, but your usual cold shouldering demeanor was momentarily dismantled.

He nodded before looking over to your other group members, one of whom was happy to switch spots with you. Player 100 openly scoffed at his team's betrayal, but his attitude was somewhat quelled with Player 388 gave him another look.

“What game is left over?” he asked the team without ever taking his eyes off the old man.

“Spinning top,” you said.

“Alright, then you’ll have spinning top,” he said, assigning Player 100 a game in a very similar fashion the man had assigned your game to you. You waited a moment for Player 100 to disagree, but he knew when he was beat. Without argument he took a seat on the ground, and your other teammates followed suit.

Player 388 turned to you and asked, “Are you good? You know, maybe they’ll let you switch teams.”

“I’m good,” you said, moving towards the end of your team’s line to take a seat.

“Let me help you,” he asked. You were taken aback by the earnest desperation in his voice, but you managed to shake it off before responding.

“I don’t need your help,” you answered curtly.

He groaned in frustration, but left you to your own devices as he went back to his own team. You had gotten your way, and yet there was a part of you that was a little sad to see him go.

“Lucky you know Dae-ho. I would kill to have a marine as an ally,” your team member sitting next to you said.

“Who’s Dae-ho?” you asked.

“Player 388. I thought you two had formed a pact or something,” they said, their eyebrows raising with surprise.

“Oh. No, we haven’t,” you said.

Dae-ho managed to cheer louder than anyone else for your team, which wasn’t an easy feat considering how loudly everyone was yelling. As soon as you crossed that line relief flooded through you. Of course, there was one person in particular who caught your eye mid celebration.

When Dae-ho saw you smiling at him he felt his knees start to go weak. For the past few days he’d only been getting eye rolls and frowns, but he hadn’t expected you to look so beautiful when you smiled. As soon as you looked in his direction he started to whoop even louder, giving you a grin. He swore he could see your demeanour brighten even more as the two of you locked eyes. But, as much as he wished the moment would last, you and your team were soon swooped out of the room.

Your eyes shot to the doors every time you heard them open to let in a new celebrating group. A tinge of disappointment jabbed at you as each group passed and it was missing one familiar face. You tried to distract yourself, making and remaking your bed countless times.

Why is there literally nothing to do here, you thought to yourself.

You were trying to convince yourself you were bored, not worried for one very specific player who had somehow started to worm his way into your heart. Whether you were willing to admit it or not, the fact that he stood up for you meant something to you.

Your bed was in the midst of being made for the hundredth time when the doors opened once again. You had almost given up hope, but still you chanced a look. Against all odds you saw a familiar ponytailed tall frame. Without thinking you rushed down the steps with relief fueled adrenaline.

Dae-ho stopped mid conversation with his team as soon as he saw you standing just a few feet from him, breathing heavily. He bit back a smile at the uncharacteristic situation you were in. It wasn’t until you were face to face with him that you realized exactly what you were doing. You were so happy he had made it, fully terrified for the past half hour he wasn’t coming back through those doors, that the second you saw him your brain turned off. But now, with Dae-ho’s eyes looking into yours, the switch had been flipped and your mind was racing once again.

What am I doing? you internally screamed at yourself. You thought about just turning around and walking away, but he had already seen you (of course he did, you had ran directly up to him).

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“What? Yes,” you said, trying and failing to sound apathetic, “I ran down the steps just now.”

“Any reason why?” he asked.

“I… really have to go to the bathroom,” you said.

It was a shitty lie. You both knew it. You internally cringed, but Dae-ho was all grins. At a feeble attempt to prove your claim was true you started to head in the direction of the restrooms.

“I’m not letting you off that easy,” Dae-ho said.

“What are you even talking about?” you asked, feigning confusion.

“That’s actually so weird,” he said.

“What’s so weird? Me having to pee? I hate to break it to you Dae-ho, but everyone does it,” you said.

“Nah, I’m talking about you being a terrible liar. I wouldn’t have guessed that in a million years,” he said.

“I’m not lying,” you said, stopping to glare him down. Your attempt at intimidation was completely undermined by the “I’ve totally been caught” blush blooming on your cheeks.

“Relax. That just means you're a good person,” he said.

Somehow that comment had shot through a crack in your walls and hit your heart straight on. You didn’t want to admit how much it meant for this absolute golden retriever of a person to think of you as a good person.

Dae-ho noticed your silence and it stung. He didn’t like how simply telling you you were a good person totally knocked you off your feet. He knew what he said was true, and it hurt him to think hearing it was something special. He didn’t think a compliment like that should be something foreign to someone like you.

“You really are a good person, you know,” he said, repeating what he had said before.

You were surprised to feel a burning behind your eyes. The earnest tone in his voice, what he was telling you, it was all about to bring you to tears. The walls you so carefully crafted weren’t cracking, they were crashing down. You couldn’t stand feeling so vulnerable and instead of shooting back some quippy comment you took off before he could see a single tear slide down your cheek.

Dae-ho watched you rush off to the bathroom, leaving him feeling heartbroken for the distant girl he had undeniably fallen for.

3 MONTHS AGO

You rubbed your forehead in frustration as the elevator music played from your phone. You had been on hold for three hours and were about to lose your mind.

“Hello Miss y/n,” a voice said, finally bringing an end to that cursed generic tune.

Your fist clenched tightly around the phone, more than a little relieved to finally hear a human voice, “Yes, hello! I’m here!”

“So we looked through your records, and it seems like the best course of action for now is to suspend your account and get a new card,” the voice said.

“But I’ve already done that,” you said with a sinking feeling.

“Oh… Ah, yes I see that,” they said.

“So, you see why, right?” you checked, hoping for some sort of solution in the midst of the worst storm you had ever found yourself in.

“Um…” the voice trailed off, clearly trying to find what you were alluding to in some sort of file.

“It’s my ex. He had my credit card info and used it to pay off his loans, but I can’t pay any of it back. I’ll be put into debt,” you explained, running a hand through your hair in stress.

“I see. Well, perhaps we can cover some of that. I believe if you report him-”

“I tried, but that…” you bit your tongue, stopping the “asshole” just on the tip of it from falling out, “He’s currently seeing someone pretty high up the ladder in the force, so...”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, it really didn’t seem like a productive phone call,” you admitted.

You quickly brushed away the frustrated tears falling down your face as if this person was standing in front of you. Of course, they had no idea, but even now you couldn't even stand the thought of someone simply being on the phone with you while you were like this.

“Listen, he stole my identity, took out credit cards in my name, paid off loans with my money, took out more loans in my name, and I need to figure out a way to fix this,” you said, praying they couldn’t notice the quivering in your voice.

PRESENT DAY

You were standing on the raised circular level a little nauseated by the hypocritically cheerful carousel motif. You tried to focus your head, but it was admittedly hazy. You had spent the last twenty four hours trying desperately to tamp down thoughts of two men in your life. Once from the past and one you were all too aware was very much in your present. You were completely unsuccessful in your attempts, and instead you had been tossing and turning all night and completely unable to eat at mealtimes.

Dae-ho glanced in your direction, knowing he wouldn’t catch your eyes no matter how much he hoped. He hated seeing you the other day leave the bathroom with red rimmed eyes. Clearly you had been crying. All he wanted to do was give you a hug and tell you it was okay. It was okay to cry, to be sad, or mad, any of it was okay. But if he thought you were distant before then this was a whole other level. Ever since your conversation after the last game you were avoiding him even more than before, which was saying something. Still, he couldn’t stop himself from watching out for you as the horribly familiar voice echoed across the room as it explained the rules.

You had managed to stumble across some much deserved luck. You choosing to stay ally-less seemed to be an advantage for Mingle. Everyone had their previously forged groups, but as the numbers called out by the voice fluctuated there was always people needing just one more person to join their group.

You and Dae-ho seemed to be playing your own separate game: how to look at each other without the other person noticing. Despite your resolve to completely forget him you could not stop yourself from scanning the crowd after every round. You would always feel relieved every time you saw his tall figure among the crowd. Dae-ho was doing the same, making sure you always had a group before he went into his own room. He was starting to worry as the game went on. You had seemed tired before the game even started, and as it continued he could see the exhaustion start to set in.

As soon as the voice said “Two” you tried to keep your head in the game, but the rush of bodies around you already had you stumbling. You couldn't even find someone to pair up with, and the rooms were quickly filling up. With a deep breath you accepted the failure that was approaching. But then a hand grabbed your own and pulled you towards one of the few empty rooms. You saw the number 388 on the back of your savior’s shirt.

Of course, you thought to yourself. Despite being so sure of your fate just moments ago you were hardly surprised Dae-ho saved you just in time.

He closed the door behind the two of you, and suddenly the hectic world was shut out. You both stood, frozen, looking at the other. You couldn’t find what to say. You had kept yourself closed off for so long, and so severely, opening up was suddenly an impossible task. Dae-ho was of course the first one to break the silence.

“Sorry. I know you’ve been keeping your distance for a reason, but-”

“Did you just apologize for saving my life? God, that is so…you,” you said, and despite everything you felt an exasperated smile pulling at the corner of your lips.

He paused for a moment before giving you a feeble laugh. You bit at your lip in nervousness, knowing what you were about to ask and it terrified you. Dae-ho noticed your stress and assumed the game, and how close you both just came to losing, had really shaken you up. He wanted desperately to offer you some sort of comfort; to say something or just hold you. But before he could do anything you were speaking up once again.

“Want to be allies?” you asked.

He gave you a soft smile as he took a step towards you with a nod, “Of course.”

“Okay,” you said, trying not to sound so overly relieved.

“I mean, I had never even thought about it before, but it seems great for a totally random idea,” he said, and you let yourself laugh at his little joke.

Dae-ho’s chest puffed up a little as you giggled, practically on cloud nine to not only get you to smile but actually laugh. He wanted to do it over and over again for as long as you would let him.

1 WEEK AGO

You turned the card over and over again in your hand. Your cheek was still stinging from the odd interaction in the subway. But at the end of it all you were given the very card you were holding now. You hadn’t been able to crawl out of the hole your ex made for you. You had no other answers.

With a deep breath you dialed the number on the back of the card.

PRESENT DAY

You waited nervously on your bed as gunshots rang out from floors above you. You thought about going too and helping them, but when you admitted you didn’t know how to use a gun they told you it might be best for you to stay behind. You still felt bad. Dae-ho and you were officially allies now, and you couldn’t help but feel you were letting that partnership down.

When Dae-ho stumbled into the room, you sat straight up. Something about him didn’t seem right. He seemed totally out of it as he rifled through pockets of jumpsuits. You quickly crossed over to him, kneeling down next to him.

“Dae-ho, is everything okay? Are you okay?” you asked.

Your voice pulled him out of the barrage of intense thoughts and images flashing through his mind. He was shutting down, but hearing you suddenly brought him back. He looked at you; a buoy in the storm.

Your heart broke for him as you saw his eyes start to well with tears. Instinctually you reached out and pulled him into a hug. He buried his head into the crook of your neck, and you could feel his shoulders start to relax. Neither of you had been that physically close till this point, but even in this heightened situation it seemed so natural.

“I… I can’t go back. It’s too much like…” he couldn’t finish his train of thought, but you recalled what another player had told you during the second game about Dae-ho being a marine.

“It’s okay,” you said, rubbing calming circles on his back before helping him get on his feet. He grabbed your hand in his, interlacing your fingers with his, needing to stay close to you in this moment. You let him pull you to sit next to him as he sat on his bed, and you wrapped a protective arm around him.

“I don’t know what to do, y/n. They need help, but I…” he started, struggling to finish his sentence once again.

“You stay here, okay?” you told him. You moved to get up, but he wouldn't drop your hand from his. Instead, he looked at you with wide-worrying eyes.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“It’ll be alright. I’ll take them the ammunition,” you assured him, once again attempting to get up. He stopped you once again, pulling you close. Your breath hitched in your throat as he brought his hand to your cheek. It was a feeling that should seem so familiar, but somehow as Dae-ho gently held your cheek in his hand it couldn't feel further from your ex. Just like everything else Dae-ho did, this was real and not some “move” to get you to do something for him.

“I can’t be the reason you are put in danger, y/n,” he said, proving you right. He was not trying to make you forget any mistakes or to fix anything for him. He just wanted to hold you close.

You subconsciously leaned in, and it only took a half of a moment for Dae-ho to meet you in the middle. The kiss was gentle and full of care. You naturally leaned into his palm as he cupped your cheek.

“I’ll be alright,” you said, breaking the kiss.

He moved his hand from your cheek to the nape of your neck, guiding you so your forehead rested against his.

“I’m not going to let you risk everything for me, okay?,” he assured you.

Player 120 entered the room, and the both of you moved away from each other. He tried over and over again to apologize while she grabbed the ammunition he had gathered, but then she was stopped by one of her own allies. All of you snapped your heads to the sliding doors as guards entered the room. Player 120 and her friend quickly and quietly hid the ammunition she was currently holding.

Dae-ho grabbed your hand and gave it a squeeze. Neither of you knew what was coming, but it seemed like it would be alright as long as you had each other.

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