#they need to have trust and faith in him too
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Bucky Barnes | Series | Loose
Part two of the Rebellion Series
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader
Plot: You and Bucky have no idea whether you can trust each other. There is an understanding, but you're not sure of what that understanding is and why it seems to run so deep.
Warning: Angst, violence and fluff (?)
Words: 4,1OO
It is hard enough already for Bucky to fall asleep at night. Yes, it has gotten better in recent years, but there will always be that part of him – awake and aware – that registers every sound and movement, even when he should be knocked out. Though he wouldn’t admit it, that part of him sat more alert ever since you had joined the building. Perhaps because Bucky still wasn’t so confident in your allegiance.
He can’t stop overthinking it. He has seen what you’re capable of. Would you be capable of even more if people cornered you? If you felt like you had no other choice but to manipulate and kill your way out? After all, wasn’t it possible that you felt like you had moved from one prison to the next?
You’d been a delight at dinner two nights ago, but Bucky can’t turn off his brain. This is the part that made you win people over. The way you’d gotten along with Natasha like a house on fire, the way you’d shared stories like you and his team had been friends all along… Yet you had no trouble letting a side of yours slip through the cracks that tantalised Bucky beyond belief. The way you had looked at him, teased him–
The faintest rustle has Bucky shooting back to his current place in time. Lying in bed and staring at the ceiling. He holds his breath in an effort to hear better.
Nothing.
However, something doesn’t sit right. Something is off. He’d learned that hypervigilance was a side effect of his trauma, but he had a hard time believing his intuition would betray him like that. Not when he had relied on it so successfully for years.
“F.R.I.D.A.Y.?” he whispers to the dark ceiling.
“Yes, sergeant Barnes?”
“Is everyone in their respectable rooms?” he tries.
“I cannot divulge that information,” the voice sounds and Bucky sighs. He musters up some strength and swings off his duvet before climbing out of bed.
Yeah, he doesn’t trust you for a second.
…
Your heart is pounding in your throat. This isn’t part of your skillset – the escape and combat. Though perhaps if you do the former correctly, you won’t have to resort to the latter. Escaping the compound had been surprisingly easy, which strangely made your chest hurt. It was way too easy to escape. But it made sense. Steve had told you that you weren’t being held captive and you being here was all in good faith.
Faith you just broke by making your escape.
You probably should have been more patient. Winning their trust a bit more and then making an escape, make sure they really don’t see it coming. But the dinner had made you antsy and impatient. You had to get out.
If you’re entirely honest with yourself, you know that getting attached to a new group of people and deciding to escape then – or worse, leading them into their demise later – would be worse than getting away now that no one has attached themselves to you. Or you to them…
Breaching the edge of the surrounding forest, you finally let go of the breath you’ve been holding. You did it. Out of sight, out of mind. You’re free. No more captivity, no more expectations. All you need to do now is leave the country, change your name and possibly dye your hair. Sounds easy enough. A bit dramatic, but not impossible.
That is, until you get dragged backwards by a hand over your mouth and you lose your footing. The hard body behind you is the only thing keeping you from tumbling to the muddy forest grounds. Your breathing is ragged as your hands both fly to grab the forearm attached to the hand covering your yelp.
The metal forearm.
“Rule number one of making your escape: never assume you’re in the clear,” Bucky’s voice rumbles through the night air, his mouth so very close to your ear. “Shouldn’t have dropped your guard when you reached the edge of the forest.”
His gloved hand removes itself from your mouth, but you know better than to make a run for it, or to scream. He twists you by your shoulders and you muster some playful guilt to your face, masking your disappointment. Disappointment… but you feel strangely relieved. Maybe the largeness of finally being free felt somewhat overwhelming. Move to another country and change your name? It’s ridiculous. And that, when the people here have been so patient and kind to you…
You let out a soft laugh, “Worth a shot, no?”
Bucky studies you intently and something in your gut stirs at it. Not even Natasha seems to have as good of a read on you as Bucky does. It makes you feel naked. Makes you feel like all of your carefully crafted plans are flimsy and no good. Makes you feel like you have to stay far, far away from Bucky. Like you need to run. Now.
And how the hell did he manage to figure out you were making your escape?
You wait for him to tell you off, preach against your indolence and call in backup to shove you into something more similar to a prison cell. But Bucky sighs, disappointed and tired.
He seems so, so tired.
“Let’s go back inside,” he says and you furrow your brows at him.
His defeat has your chest clenching tightly. You want him to punish you, scold you. At least show that he cares. Why? You’re not sure. Maybe you need to know that the relief you felt from being caught is somewhat mutual in a sense. That the people here don’t just see you as a weapon, despite the burden, but that you’re someone worth saving. Worth keeping around.
Worth healing.
“That’s it?” you ask. “No scolding or punishment?”
Bucky scoffs humourlessly. “You get a kick out of punishment, darling?”
You roll your eyes. “Seriously.”
“I’m not your fucking baby sitter,” he mutters and starts walking back to the building, rightfully assuming you’ll follow. “If you want, I can ask Steve to tell you off in the morning. He’s better at that sort of thing anyway.”
Some pathetic part of you wants to sulk at his response like an ill-tempered child. “Then why come after me?”
It stays quiet for a second as you cross the field towards the compound. “I couldn’t let a poor escape plan be successful.”
You can’t help but snort at that answer and decide that fine, you’d play along for now. But you wonder if the curious Bucky you’d seen a few days ago had completely vanished since that dinner.
…
The next morning, Bucky gets cornered by you after breakfast. He looks down his nose at your defiant face.
“You didn’t tell anyone about last night?” you ask him and he raises his brows, unimpressed.
It had surprised you that no one at breakfast mentioned anything or gave you even so much as a dirty look. Clearly, none of them are aware that you tried to make your escape last night. And you cannot for the life of you figure out why Bucky is taking it easy on you. Is he smart enough to assume that your own guilt will do more damage than he ever could? Is this part of some bigger scheme of his? Perhaps he is actually as tired and unbothered as he looked when you saw him in those woods.
“What happened last night?” he asks with a telling smirk. The current look on your face is worth the lack of sleep he had tonight. It’s too easy to rattle you. You roll your eyes and Bucky smirks even wider at that. Is he… flirting?
“Why didn’t you tell anyone?” you try again.
Bucky remains quiet and fights to keep a straight face. He did expect your question, but why didn’t he tell anyone? Because he thought you and him would get along after those tiny moments during that first dinner. Because the team would have let you walk away. Because Bucky doesn’t want you to go. Because he thinks he can help. Help the world. Help you. He thinks he can help you. And you can help him. And–
“Want me to tell them now?” he says instead.
He barely notices the flash of panic in your eyes before you cover it with an annoyed scoff and turn on your heel to walk away. He watches you. Every step until you are out of sight.
“You said she trusts you,” Steve’s voice sounds from behind him and Bucky schools his face back to bland interest before he turns to Steve. “That doesn’t look like she trusts you.”
“It’s a work in progress.”
Steve frowns pensively. “Well, speed up the process. We have an important mission and we need her for it.”
“What?” Bucky almost loses his restraint, his body flaring in alarm. “Steve, she hasn’t had any training. She was locked up for months. It’s too big of a risk–”
“I wouldn’t ask if I wasn’t desperate, Buck,” Steve tells him regretfully, but instantly notices that Bucky isn’t buying it. “This is the thing we needed her for.”
“She isn’t some kind of weapon!” Bucky exclaims and he notices Natasha turning away from her conversation in the nearest common room to see what the commotion is about. He gives her a warning look, then lowers his voice. “Steve. This could’ve been me,” Bucky breathes. And there it is. Recognition flickers in Steve’s eyes. “We can’t use her like this. She’s all alone.”
Steve looks past Bucky’s shoulder as if you’re still walking away from him. Angry frown, uptilted chin and swaying hips– Bucky almost looks. Then Steve sighs and looks back at his friend. “Take all the time you need. If she’s ready, I’ll explain the mission to her. I think she might want to help.”
…
Bucky reads over the file until his eyes turn bleary. Steve was right, you will want to help.
He thinks you can handle it, but… what if you encounter a trigger on the way? What if it all becomes too much? Bucky realises he isn’t nearly close enough to care this much, and he doesn’t, but who else but him is going to care whether you live or die? Sometimes Bucky wonders if even you care whether you live or die. What would have happened to Bucky if everyone had given up on him? He knows damn well that he’d be long dead if not so many people found him useful.
But that’s the thing, isn’t it? Bucky never had a choice. So he finds himself knocking at your door at 10pm with the file in hand.
After opening the door, you barely manage to get a word out before Bucky extends the folder towards you. “Steve needs your help on this. It should be fine, but the choice is up to you.”
Quick. Brief. He’s just the messenger and the decision is all yours. Bucky turns and makes to walk away – before you can spot all of the thoughts crossing his mind – but your voice stops him.
“Will you be there?”
The question takes him by surprise. Turning back towards you and slowly walking to the doorframe you’re standing under, he creases his brows together. “You need me to come along?”
You shrug abashedly. “Will you?”
Bucky studies your face intently. “Yes,” he lies. He’ll figure something out with Steve.
“What if I can’t do what you need me to do?” There it is again. He doesn’t get why this vulnerable side of you keeps surprising him so much.
“You’ll be useful,” are his terrible words of comfort. He wants to palm himself in the face.
The suppressed smile you give him heats his face and he’s sure you’ll call him out on his horrible people skills, but you stay quiet. The silence grows and grows and Bucky starts to shift nonchalantly, wondering if he should walk off and let you read the file in private.
“Okay,” you say softly.
“You’re coming?”
“Yes,” you affirm and look up at him, handing the file back. “Do you not want me to go?”
“It’s your choice,” he tells you and gently takes the folder.
“That’s not what I’m asking.”
Some wall snaps up inside of him at that tone – at that hopeful look in your eyes. “You could use the mission to make your escape,” he says with a shrug and makes to turn away from you again. “I won’t stop you this time.”
He walks away, leaving you to gape at his retreating form.
…
The mission was simple enough.
Sam, Natasha, Bucky and you would be attending a gala. Supposedly, there is a certain divide between the guests in attendance. Your job is mainly to feel out just who will be willing to join your cause. What goes unsaid is that you’re also required to butter them up to spring into action when your team would deem it necessary.
The party is in full swing and everyone is finally losing their mask of formality and enjoying their evening. You just hit the sweet spot of their susceptibility and you sweep into casual conversation about politics. Seeing who keeps quiet, who isn’t scared to speak up, whose faces harden at the prospect of change, etcetera. All of your antennas are on and when you know people have stopped paying attention to you, that’s when you dare a glance across the room where you know Bucky is standing.
All dapper and handsome, wearing a very expensive suit.
All of you have taken thorough action to look exceptional and to blend in perfectly with the high class crowd. Being charming is easy enough, looking it was a necessity – yet, all of it does still feel very far removed from yourself. Like a betrayal to the woman who was locked up mere weeks ago. However, being a true professional, you don’t allow your thoughts to linger too much and channel back to the matter at hand.
Then you feel it.
The searing heat that starts at your legs and spreads all the way up to your chest and cheeks. Like a virus burning over your skin. And you know what it is – know who it is. So you look back in the direction of Bucky, if only to catch him in the act.
But he’s unbothered. Brooding and observing from the bar in the shadow of the room, somehow alone and undiscovered by most of the crowd (a skill you assume he has acquired over the years). And his eyes are still on you. They glide down and back up for even more emphasis and you swallow away the dryness in your throat.
Gliding a sensual hand over the arm of the man next to you, you excuse yourself with a warm smile and slowly stride over to the culprit. Bucky waits patiently, and you swear you see a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth as you walk over. He hands you a spare glass of champagne and turns his back to the room when you’re close enough to hear him.
“It’s working,” he says and you swear he sounds slightly impressed.
“Did you assume I’d fuck up?” you taunt and lean over the bar, sipping at the glass flute between your fingers. Bucky turns to you and his eyes sweep over the curve of your partly exposed back, the hollow of your spine and the curve of your ass. Then he holds his breath for a moment.
“Wouldn’t be mad if you did,” he tells you and his tone sounds gentle. You know that’s why he’s here, even though neither of you said it out loud, you know he’s here to stick up for you if you can’t get it done yet. If you’re not ready to be that person again.
Just like he probably knows that you’re here because the guilt of trying to escape from your saviours was eating you alive. And you didn’t want to prove Bucky right by escaping. You had glanced at the exits a few times and debated it, yes, but then looked at your team and thought against it. Looked at Bucky and–
“We’ll leave in five minutes,” Bucky murmurs as he finishes his glass. “I noted down all the people you signed as potential allies and who definitely isn’t.”
“There’s a few we can convince to help,” you cut in.
“What? The woman who runs that capitalist shitshow?” Bucky frowns. “Nah, she’s only motivated by money.”
You smile at him knowingly. “Money is a great motivator and our movement could benefit her greatly, so you just have to nudge her in the right direction.”
Bucky studies your face then and you might have found it less penetrating when he looked at your body with that stare. That intrigue. “And you already have a plan to tip her over to our side,” he concludes.
“You chose me for this for a reason, did you not?” you ask.
His eyes drop to your mouth. “I like a woman who takes her job seriously.”
You have no idea where that came from, but decide to go along with it anyway. You smirk and empty your flute, gently setting it down on the bar after. “Here I was, thinking you didn’t like anyone,” you purr and saunter off to find your other teammates and round up today’s mission.
You turn around when you hear Bucky yelling out your name, but then the room spins and debris flies everywhere. You’d cry out if the wind didn’t whoosh from your body and your ears don’t hollow out. You want to voice your discovery, as futile as it is, but the scream dies in your throat.
Someone just blew up the building.
…
It feels like there’s ash in your mouth. And throat. Your body bleats in pain, but nothing too severely. Maybe you’re in shock. Maybe you can’t feel a limb that’s no longer there. Maybe–
The room is dark except for an orange hue that travels over the ceiling and walls every few seconds. You’re slumped in a velvet chair and your fingers pluck softly at the fabric. One by one, your senses weave together and you hear the soft sounds of someone working on something. Paper ruffling, some gentle work, someone who’s trying to be quiet. You rasp in a raw breath and see a shadow at the bottom of your vision. But your body is relaxed. Or… Well, as relaxed as it can be.
There was an explosion.
“Have some water,” Bucky offers from his kneeling position between your legs and nudges his chin to the glass at the small table next to your chair. His voice is soft, raw. And when you squint at him while you blindly reach for the glass, you see soot on his face, dust on his suit.
“Are you alright?” you ask and your voice reminds you to take the drink. The water feels like heaven in your throat and you nearly gulp down the whole glass.
Bucky pauses at your question and surely he didn’t expect that to be your first question. “I’m fine,” he grumbles and focuses on the task at hand. Which, you quickly realise, is cleaning up the wound on your thigh.
Next to him, there’s a small container with small shards of glass in there and a used pair of tweezers. You feel the prickle of the wound at your thigh and observe closely as he presses some gauze to the puncture wounds. His hands are firm and steady as he wraps a bandage around your thigh to secure the gauze. His calluses scrape against your soft skin and you almost swear he takes more time than he should securing the bandage.
You heave a deep sigh and straighten up in the chair. “Natasha and Sam?”
“Natasha was sent to hunt down the ones responsible and needed an aerial patrol, so she took Sam.” Bucky clenches his jaw and you have a feeling it took some convincing to get Bucky to not go after the bastards himself, to let Natasha handle it instead. “There were deaths, lots of wounded.”
You flinch at that.
Bucky notices it. The glaze over your eyes and the tightening of your fingers into the soft fabric of the chair. He barely allows himself to hesitate and he cover your left hand with his right one, taking your fingers and stroking his thumb over your knuckles. “We got out as many as we could, no one saw the explosion coming,” he explains and hopes the information brings you some peace. He’s desperate to take that haunted look off your face, but doesn’t know how.
He gives you time then. Allows you to sort through your memories and shush them. He strokes his thumb gently and squeezes your fingers every once in a while to anchor you to here, to being safe. Your breaths go from shallow to deep as they slow. He hears your heartbeat steady and watches clarity fill your eyes again.
Fuck him. Those eyes.
“Tomorrow, we go over your list and see what we can do. Let’s get some rest for now.” He pushes to a stand and moves to remove his hand from yours, but you hold onto him.
“I’m sorry for trying to escape,” you rasp and Bucky tenses at that. He did not expect that confession. Didn’t expect an apology either – he didn’t think one was warranted.
You slowly push to a stand and Bucky’s heartbeat spikes as you wobble on your legs before you steady yourself. His eyes search your face frantically and he tries not to linger at your lips for too long. You gently stroke a hand down his arm before brushing past him in thanks, and Bucky has to take a deep breath. A flash of you doing the same thing to one of tonight’s guests comes to him and jealousy hits him, a little too viciously. Just like it did when he saw it earlier tonight.
He turns around and watches as you walk up the small bag he packed for an instance like this. You pull out some clothes and Bucky shamelessly stares while you do it. He almost sighs as the sight of that orange hue travelling over your form, most of the sleek dress still intact and definitely still doing its job of making you look good enough to eat.
“I’m glad you’re alright,” he blurts. But he stands still as he watches you freeze. You slowly turn to him and tilt your head at him curiously.
Then, a slow smirk spreads over your face and your brows raise playfully. Bucky frowns as he tries to read the expression on your face, even if the lightness of it makes him want to drop to his knees in relief. This is much, much better than that haunted look that was there mere minutes ago.
Until one of your hands lifts from the bag, a small scrap of lace dangling from your fingers. “I am never letting you pack our getaway bag again.”
Bucky matches your smirk and strides over to you, close enough that you have to tip your chin up to remain eye contact. “You can choose not to wear it,” he shrugs and the nonchalant gesture makes your legs weak. Slowly, he starts unbuttoning his own pants and shirt, stripping himself of his clothes and tempting you to break that eye contact. “But we’re sharing a bed, so you decide what is less tempting for me to look at.”
It takes everything inside of you not to balk at this… flirtation. But it’s nice – so fucking nice to deflate that balloon of tension after a mission like the one you had tonight. To have banter and humour and perhaps a little friendship.
“I better not catch you looking at all,” you snipe, but have a hard time keeping the smile off your face.
Bucky smiles too then and gives you a wink powerful enough to set your clothes aflame. “Too bad. You can’t ask that of me and look like that.”
That does render you a bit speechless and Bucky takes his win as he strips himself to his boxers. Climbing under the sheets, Bucky’s powerful body shifts and ripples with movement.
This is going to be a long night.
#ok this is NOT worth the wait#but its here which is a HUGE win for me#i hope you like it#not me being way too impatient to write a slow burn#the upcoming smut better be good too#pls tell me what u think i have obviouslty not forgotten about you guys#<3#rebellion series#bucky barnes smut#bucky barnes x reader#writing#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes oneshot#oneshot#series
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Trouble with Act III and Villain Motivation
feelingthedisaster asked: I have some issues with my current WIP. The basics are: a guy wants to be a "soldier" (not exactly, but I won't get into worldbuilding), but because he's an outcast he's blamed for the theft of an object that goes missing. He learns about a witch who can help him find the object and they go on a mission to find it, but he learns it was the witch who stole it because she was bored and accepted the job to hang out with people. Here are my concerns:
[Ask edited for length]
Issue #1 - I feel the witch's motivation is not strong enough. There is backstory explaining her loneliness and wanting to have friends, but stealing an object to go on a bogus mission and hang out with someone doesn't feel realistic.
You could definitely go a little bit further to bolster this motivation. Since you mention using Save the Cat!, and since the witch sounds like she might be a redeemable villain, have you considered. her "shard of glass" (psychological wound) that's driving her? What happened in her past that makes her feel like she isn't worthy of making friends in the usual way? Fleshing that out and building upon it creates a little more logic to why she would go so far out of her way just to get some companionship.
Issue #2 - My plot sucks. Act I - the solider gets kicked out, Act II - he and the witch go on the bogus mission and he finds out she's the true thief, Act III - I have no idea. It feels shitty, boring, and I wouldn't want to read this. Honestly, I just want to write my characters and made up plot so it would make sense, but I don't like the plot.
Well, looking at Save the Cat!, in Act III you need to solve the problems created in Act II. In other words, we need to look back at your story's midpoint... what was the false victory or false defeat? How did things get progressively worse or progressively better for the hero after that? In what way was the hero pushed to rock bottom?
Based on what you've laid out for me, I feel like a good route to go (if you haven't already) is for there to be a false victory toward the end of Act II, perhaps where the witch--sensing that the hero is losing faith in her ability to help him find the object--tells him they're really close. They've almost got it. Then, as the "bad guys close in" moment, maybe (because they've grown close), she admits that she was the one who stole the object in the first place and promises to take him to it. But... ALL IS LOST! They get to where she'd hidden the object and it's gone! Now neither one of them have the object! At the end of Act II is the hero's "dark night of the soul" where he has to contemplate everything that's happened so far... getting kicked out, finding the witch and trusting her to lead him to the object, growing close to the witch, being betrayed by the witch (she's the true thief). And maybe he even really hurts her feelings by ditching her because he's so mad. This guy has hit rock bottom...
So, your "Break into III" is the moment where your character realizes what he must do to fix everything... First, realizing he can sympathize with the witch and forgive her, he must find her and accept her apology and apologize to her, too. Next, he figures out what happened to the object and how they can get it back. And finally, he realizes how he can get accepted back into whatever he was kicked out of without causing problems for the witch. So, Act III will be him realizing all of this, finding the witch, convincing her to listen to his apology and accepting her apology, telling her what he figured out about who stole the object from her--and how they can get it back, strategizing that plan, executing that plan, facing off against whoever took the object from the witch and getting it back once and for all, then returning the object to its rightful owners and proving that he didn't steal the object. (And, maybe they can blame whoever stole it from the witch to keep the witch from getting into trouble?) And then maybe the hero gets reinstated, or maybe he chooses to go off with the witch on more adventures. It's up to you. And it doesn't have to be any of this exactly, but hopefully it gives you some ideas for what else you can do.
I want to change the entire plot but I don't know how. On top of everything else, my chapters are short.
Well, hopefully now that I've shown you how much more your second and third acts can be, you won't need to change your plot. I think you already have everything here for a great story. You just needed to flesh things out a little bit more. Hopefully this helps you get there.
As far as your short chapters, I just answered another ask about that. Chapters are either a single scene or a group of 2-3 related scenes. So, when your chapters are too short, it's usually because your scenes aren't accomplishing everything they need to. This post goes into detail about that, so hopefully that will help!
Happy writing!
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Constant Faith and the Life it Brings
Part 2 of Constant Faith | Requested Here!
Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!worship pastor!reader
Summary: After your church is robbed, Tim learns how you got into faith and helps you learn to share your story.
Warnings: mentions of armed robbery and past arrests, basically a testimony based on the request, fluff and comfort
Word Count: 1.8k+ words
A/N: I loved writing this!! The worship pastor!r dynamic is right up my alley and I definitely sprinkled little parts of my own testimony and time in church in here.😊
Masterlist Directory | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List
The days following the robbery are strange, but you believe in promises and know that God and Tim keep them. As Tim helps the robbery unit work the case, you meet with different church members to pray together.
When Sunday rolls around, and the sanctuary is still treated as an active crime scene, your pastor welcomes everyone into his home for service and fellowship. You lead worship as usual, but hearing all the voices mixing and praising God together, trusting that He has the situation in His hand and would use it for His purpose, is a unique and beautiful experience. One you wouldn’t have had without a walk through the valley of the shadow, you think as you finish a song.
As you go home Sunday afternoon, you think about everything that has led you to this exact moment in your life and your faith. There are parts of your testimony you don’t like sharing with just anyone, not because you doubt what God has done for you or want to keep His message to yourself, but because it brings up memories that remind you of a painful time. Living through an armed robbery and experiencing how much your church family loves and cares for one another, however, gives you strength and encouragement that your story could help others who are in similar circumstances. That inherent need to help others who are hurting, to be there for them, is precisely what led you to become a therapist when you’re not singing at church.
Tuesday morning, your pastor sends out a video message with excellent news. He tells you and the rest of the church members that the offering collected on Sunday not only met their usual numbers but replenished the money that had been stolen. You’re unsure if God encouraged everyone to give a bit more and support His house or if one generous donor knew what had happened. Regardless, the church isn’t in fiscal danger, which is great but not the best part.
“The L.A.P.D. contacted me this morning to inform me that the thieves were apprehended and offered a full confession,” he adds. “In addition, they have recovered everything stolen from the safe and it will be returned to us in due time. Now if that isn’t proof that our God still works miracles, I don’t know what is!”
“I think that was the best run-through we’ve had in weeks!” Jerry applauds. “Not that they’re usually bad, you know.”
“We do,” you promise with a smile. “But, I agree, that was great! We’re back in the sanctuary Sunday, so let’s have a great service and welcome everyone back into church.”
You watch the worship team gather their things and leave, but you look up at the empty cross on the wall. Your Bible is lying with your things, and you squat to pick it up as Jerry exits the audio booth.
“You alright?” he asks softly.
“Yeah, I’m good. I think I’m just…”
“I understand. You’ve got keys, so take your time. We’re all here if you need us.”
You nod your thanks and wait until he leaves to sit in the front pew. Holding your Bible in your lap, you close your eyes and begin praying. You thank God for everything, including Tim, and you pray for him, too. He’s a big part of your life, even if he doesn’t know how much he’s done for you.
“Can I help you, Officer?” Jerry asks as he exits the church. “Or are you here on personal business?”
Tim is waiting beside his truck, dressed in his patrol uniform. He looks up when Jerry exits, and Jerry hides a smile at Tim’s disappointed look. Most of your church family knows about Tim, and Jerry knows who the officer before him is and what – or who – he’s there for.
“Just waiting for her,” Tim says.
“She’s in the sanctuary; may be a few minutes. You’re welcome to go in if you’d like.”
Tim looks over Jerry’s shoulder to the door and nods. He thanks Jerry and watches him walk away. You’re more at home here than anyone else, yet Tim doesn’t feel as if he’s trespassing when he walks through the front door and navigates to the sanctuary entrance.
The pew dips beside you, and you look up from your Bible quickly and see Tim looking at the stage. He doesn’t speak as he joins you, but his hand is stretched toward you.
“Sorry,” you murmur.
Your finger holds your place in the New Testament, the fitting story of Jesus and the “den of thieves.” Tim shakes his head and tells you to take your time. He sits back and closes his eyes. Maybe Tim is praying or giving you the privacy he thinks you need. Either way, you appreciate him and are glad he’s beside you.
“I- thank you for working so hard and catching them,” you begin. “On Sunday, we received enough money from tithing to make up for what was stolen. Between that and the arrest, I should be, I don’t know, jumping for joy or something.”
“But?” Tim presses kindly.
“It reminded me of my past,” you whisper. “And I’ve just been thinking that I can do more- that I should do more.”
“Do more how?”
You look at Tim, and his eyes are already on you. His focus on the here and now is appreciated, but he can’t understand what you mean until you tell him about your past. More than Tim, you can’t do what the Lord is calling you to do without learning to share painful memories.
“I had a really bad childhood; my upbringing, I guess you could say, was rough, Tim. Growing up, I never felt like I belonged or was loved, even in my own house, around people who were supposed to love me and protect me. So, I learned how to look out for myself and provide for myself, but I didn’t always do it right.”
Your eyes drop from Tim’s to look at your Bible instead. Tim keeps his eyes on your face as you speak, and his hand inches closer to your side.
“When those men came in here and demanded to know where the money was… part of why I stayed so calm is because I’ve been that person before. I was behind the gun once and it landed me in juvie at 17. I didn’t know why they charged me as a minor. I didn’t understand anything until I found this.”
You point to your Bible and pause. Tim doesn’t press, though you’re sure he has questions about your previous arrest. Because you went to juvie and were a minor with no prior record, everything was expunged, and most people would never know it happened.
“Someone introduced me to the Bible,” you continue. “I was carrying around so many sins, and they were a burden that never lightened. Initially, I thought it was desperation or boredom, anything other than a need for a Savior. I started reading and it felt like every sentence was written to me specifically. The thief on the cross beside Jesus, the gift of the Holy Spirit, and forgiveness of sins while healing physical infirmities… everything Jesus said and did felt like an invitation. I started praying and I felt that burden start lifting. After I confessed every sin, even the ones no one else knew about, I gave my life to Christ. At that moment, I started praying that God could use me and my past to help others who are hurting.”
You take a deep breath and apologize again. Tim finally moves his hand into yours, and your eyes drift to his.
“That’s what led you to become a therapist? LA’s best grief counselor,” Tim guesses.
You smile and chuckle as you nod.
“You’re good at your job, I’ve always known that. But the fact that you let a situation like that lead you to help others is exceptional. Not many doctors pray for their patients; I’d charge extra for that.”
You push against Tim’s shoulder as your smile grows. “If they’d told me that reading the Bible would lead to having two jobs without facing the price of sin, I wouldn’t have believed them. The worship pastor idea came in later. The day before I was released I read Acts 16. Paul and Silas sing praises in prison, and then there’s an earthquake and the doors are opened. No one leaves, but the jailer sees the doors and prepares to kill himself. Paul and Silas stop him and lead him to repent and be baptized. So, after nights of praying and praising in a cell, I knew I needed to keep doing it.”
Tim has been quiet since the moment he walked in. Though you don’t regret sharing your testimony with him, you begin to worry that he won’t want anything to do with you now. Learning that your girlfriend went to juvie for armed robbery isn’t easy for most people to move on from.
“I understand if you want some time,” you murmur.
Tim’s eyes are still straight ahead. You realize he’s looking at the pulpit in the center of the stage. He squeezes your hand gently, and you take a deep breath. You won't blame him for needing space, but that doesn't mean it won't hurt.
“I had a rough childhood, too. My dad was angry, and he got violent because of that. I actually thought for a while that he killed someone," Tim says.
His voice is rough, but you know why and you're here for him. You lay your other hand over Tim’s and turn to face him. His eyes are still forward, and you understand it can be easier to talk about stuff like this without looking at your audience.
“He was having an affair with a woman who was being abused. She killed her husband and my dad covered for her. That- that moment when he confessed and he seemed like a good man… it went against everything I had ever seen. He was a monster, and everything that I am is despite what my dad did.”
Tim turns toward you, and you see tears gathering in his eyes. It hurts to relive past pains, but your entire life is founded upon a belief that you don’t have to do it alone.
“I don’t want time or space. Your past made you the woman I love, and the strength and love you found during your darkest night… your story is special.”
“I could do more,” you whisper. “I don’t tell enough people.”
“You told me. That’s a start, right?”
You nod and lean your head against Tim’s shoulder. Your Bible folds closed with your movement, and you remember that your unshakeable faith will get you through the hard days to come, and telling your story may allow someone else to see the strength Christ offers.
“You’re amazing,” you say against Tim’s shirt. “Everything that you are, all that you do, shows that your past doesn’t define you.”
Tim turns to kiss your head and wraps an arm around your back.
“Did you come to give me a ride and a hug?” you ask.
“Yes. A ride home and more than one hug.”
#hanna writes✯#tim bradford x reader#tim bradford x fem!reader#tim bradford x y/n#tim bradford x you#tim bradford fic#tim bradford imagine#tim bradford the rookie#tim bradford#the rookie abc#fem!reader#requests#christianity
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(All talk about the characters not the ccs)
I’m finally watching bbh’s June 19th stream (day after Father’s Day) and he’s talking about removing everyone’s access to his base. I’ve seen people talking about how this could cause problems and lose him Forever and Bagerah’s trust but I think people - including Forever and Bagerah - are forgetting a crucial fact
Bbh is a single parent and has been from the start.
He has to be incredibly paranoid to keep Dapper safe. His paranoia is the only reason Dapper -and many of the other eggs - are still alive.
He can’t rely on other people to keep Dapper safe. He can’t tell Dapper to go live with another parent if his house is compromised. That’s why he has five different houses and keeps building more when too many people gain access.
I don’t think Forever or Bagerah have a right to complain about this considering they have 3/4 other parents/houses to keep their egg safe. They have a family structure that allows them a sense of safety that bbh has NEVER had.
Like yea, I understand why they would feel betrayed but from an objective pov, they have zero ground to stand on to protest because they have NO idea what bbh has gone through raising dapper alone, how could they? They have always had 3/4 other parents at their beck and call.
Trust doesn’t mean letting someone run rampantly through your house/safe space just because they feel entitled to it. Trust means having faith that if bbh is closing off his/Dapper’s house to you, he has a legitimate reason that doesn’t have anything to do with you personally.
Bbh has done so much for team friendship and taken down so many of his walls and boundaries for them that the fact THEY don’t have faith in him makes me sad. I trust team friendship and the q-ommunication smp to work everything out but I just hope Bagerah and Forever come to respect bbh’s boundaries a bit more :D
#qsmp#crimson speaks#team friendship#constantly having to prove to people they can trust you#by letting them stomp all over ur boundaries#is not healthy or sustainable#bbh has given forever and Bagerah sooooo much trust#they need to have trust and faith in him too#give him is space#please XD#when ever they demand and guilt him into giving out the waystone and door access in previous streams#it makes me super uncomfy XD#I know it’s not intentional and they all have trust issues to a degree#it just reminds of of irl ‘friends’ that demanded things of me to prove my friendship#a huge part of healthy relationships is allowing people to keep parts of themselves secret#bearing your entire soul because someone asks you to prove your friendship is very toxic#friendship is about trust and trust means having faith#that everything they choose to disclose or not is done so with reason#idk maybe I’m just jaded XD#I know they’ll all work it out tho#I have faith#XD
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at first I thought that the game had sold my house to some random woman (thank u Clavia for sweeping but you scared the shit outta me) and then I was relieved to know that it was still link's, but then you get inside and all the stuff has been replaced w Zelda's stuff and her journal is in the bedroom and her secret well is down below. I know a bunch of people have said like oh they were living together and I thought that too at first (despite the one bed), but the more I hang around the village the more I'm convinced that Link just gave Zelda his house and kinda fucked off a little. it would go a long way towards explaining how everyone knows zelda but no one knows Link (though that seems to be a common theme), but the greatest evidence imo is when you talk to one of the kids from the school who's waiting for Zelda to return near the house. she asks link if he's going to "zelda's house" and says that zelda often leaves the village but always quickly returns. it seems based on this and the interior décor that the house now firmly belongs to zelda, and link was maybe a non presence in the village after the events of the first game. I wonder if he gave her the house as something of a retreat, a place where she could be alone and recover while also being close to Purah - one of the few other people she knows from Before - and the lab. meanwhile it doesn't seem like there's any space made for link in the house or the village. idk what it all means but I do have enormous feelings about Link giving up the one space that was really his so that zelda could have a home again after hers was destroyed
#long#bro idek#link and zelda's relationship in this specific iteration is so compelling to me#like your my best friend and my ward and my soulmate and i died for you#here's the keys to my house and I'll follow you wherever you want to go and listen when you talk and trust in your decisions#and I'll never say it's too much or that I need something for myself#like on the one hand i think link truly does love zelda and he wants whatever will make her happy#but I also wonder what kind of roll it must take on him#to always be the one making little sacrifices so that she can have what she needs#and what is he supposed to say? no?#how do you set boundaries with someone who gave up 100 years of her life to save everyone#who repeatedly sacrifices herself in huge ways and puts so much faith in you every time#how do you not take every available opportunity to try and repay that debt?#there's so much going on there#i wish the champions were around to psychoanalyze their relationship for me some more#urbosa queen i miss u#totk#tears of the kingdom#spoilers#totk spoilers#legend of zelda#zelda#link
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I just realized b&l was Brad and luida and not some other obscure terminology... I feel dumb now (and sad that while knives was growing up w parents vash just had Conrad... Somewhere out there is an au where both twins get to grow up with Brad and luida... Tho idk if both would survive the process... 😨)
EXTREMELY LATE REPLY SRY
Vash is partly Like That because nobody has ever told him 'no' in his life. Rem and Knives were indulgent, Conrad pulled an Alfred and never saw himself as Vash's parent despite being the only adult a little kid had and as such never tried to discipline him or control his behavior, and the GHG are all yes-men who worship him. Vash is spoiled and gets whatever he wants, and expects himself to get whatever he wants. You have to contrast the entitlement to canon Knives, who also gets what he wants because nobody can tell him no. I wanted to make it clear that 14yo Knives was very close to being the actual, canon Knives - that he was a murderous jerk who hated humans and thought they were a scourge on humanity too. Knives is good instead of bad because of B&L & the choices he made, just like Vash is bad instead of good because of Conrad & the justifications he gave himself.
All that to say - B&L would have absolutely prevented Vash from going so bad. They couldn't have stopped the voices, but they could have taught him how to cope with them and make the right choices. Humanity's biggest problem could have been averted if Brad just grounded him. It was important to me to establish that Vash didn't do the things he did because he was sick, because that's a super shitty message to send - he did what he did because he wanted to hurt people, and decided to believe whatever he needed to believe that would allow him to keep hurting people.
But yes, Vash was a troubled kid who deserved a B&L. Vash's story is ultimately a very sad one. It's why I couldn't bring myself to kill him - it wouldn't have been satisfying at all to punish him so ultimately. Even if he probably deserved it. Thanks for reading & the ask!!!
#my asks#my writing#yeah conrad wins World's Best Enabler award :/#you aren't making up for anything dude you aren't making it right#you're just making a sick kid sicker#sad. knives' story is obviously super sad too but he's the lucky one#as a kid he probably thought b&l were the worst thing to ever happen to him#but as an adult he appreciates that they stopped him from going down a dark path#and importantly for me#that they have faith and trust in him as an adult and they know hes a good person now#who doesnt need their help to do the right thing#our relationships with our parents change as we grow older i think#good parenting is being what the kid needs and not always what they want
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they make me so
#tm#the way she immediately goes along with him there's no hesitation and then she immediately puts them in the same boat i want to scream#because there's a way to read this that it's actually too much faith; she trusts him and his methods - weird though they usually are -#maybe too much - the 'one day i'm gonna get fired because of you; that's just how it is' route#(which is like that excellent tag i saw - that lisbon's 'a rebel with the trauma of having to be responsible' -#like she likes breaking the rules and jane breaks them in fun ways (usually) and his rule-breaking gets results#- the 'people might ask why you signed on with me in the first place' bit alsosheskindofinlovewithhimnbd)#but on the other hand there is a bit of 'such little faith' too because yes he gets results but she knows firsthand (and repeatedly)#that he runs the risk of hurting - himself; others; her - while he gets those results#and she's putting them in the same boat she's making them equally responsible for anything that happens#*unequally actually she'd take the brunt of any punishment/backlash as they both know#and you COULD (and i do) see that as her trying (maybe unconsciously) to temper him; to pull him back from going TOO far#whatever you're doing you're not doing alone; remember this is on me now too don't go too far#CAN'T YOU SEE THERE'S PEOPLE WHO CARE ABOUT YOU; WHO NEED YOU#and like does the tempering always work? no; obviously; for multiple reasons#but for her to - on whatever level - think that she would be enough FOR it to work? much to think about#(it's crazy how it's so clear that on some level they both know she's the most important person to him#but they're also just....tucking that fact away until a moment comes when they can actually think fully about what it means#(which would have to be post red john but also they're just avoidant bitches too afraid to look too close i love it)#anyway i'm back at work so i'm back to thinking too much about tv shows that ended 8 years ago it's so cool and stable#(also rigsby just going along with it too lkfasdj i just adore them)#FUCK THE END OF THE EPISODE BARK BARK I FEEL CRAZY#TERESA LISBON YOU'RE SO IMPORTANT TO ME LIKE SHIT
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So how do you think Scourge would handle the events of the fugitive arc of STCO?
To give context, some guy (a wolf named Kane) starts tearing down him in the media by bringing up stuff like "he created Robotnik, he transforms into Super Sonic, he's a bit of a dick (even if everyone already knows that so people don't pay attention to this part)" which makes almost everyone in Mobius but his friends hate him, then after a while there's some mega mack bombings across the zones and Sonic tries to figure out who it was but gets knocked out by a sneak attack and his friends get attacked too and then the attacker reveals itself to be "Sonic", Sonic tries to stop one of the missiles but they set him up and cut off the Kintobor computer while he was helping him disarm it so it explodes, he's arrested and when his friends (Amy, Knuckles and Tails) come to bust him out "Sonic" attacks the and left them to die (though they survive obviously) and escapes, later it's revealed he's the the Metallix Mark IV (basically the Neo Metal Sonic of the Metallix) who framed Sonic for all those crimes and swapped him after they run all kind tests in him to confirm it is him so everyone does think Sonic did all that, Sonic manages to escape the volcano he trapped him in and gets Metallix destroyed by the Lava, then right after that Grimer appears as an hologram (because he is in another dimension were Sonic can't get to him) and tells him he's behind all of it because he drove Robotnik crazy, so he seeked revenge and made Sonic despised by everyone to the point he had to leave the planet.
And Sonic does try to leave after not finding anything to prove his innocence, but Robotnik comes back so he decides to stay and help, but has to do it while being a fugitive hated by everyone with the exception of Tails...
Kay sorry for the wall of text, I tried to get the important bits (or what I think are the important bits), it's hard to explain it to people who haven't read it.
Oh man oh man. So like. I know it would be really sweet and whatever to believe Scourge would believe in Sonic no matter what, but honestly? I think he'd fall for it. Scourge is used to betrayal, he grew up around it. Betrayal was expected on Moebius, the only way to ensure loyalty is through fear, and Scourge has to actively work to trust people won't betray him at the slightest convenience. It doesn't come easily to him. Trusting Sonic is a choice he makes every day, built on the foundation that Sonic has - somehow, against all odds - proved he has no interest in betraying Scourge. It helps a little that Sonic is upfront about it when he doesn't like someone - Scourge is used to people being rude or cruel, and Sonic is so, so fucking rude, which, to Scourge, is a symbol of honesty - but it still isn't easy. It still takes work. And as nice as it would be to believe Scourge would believe in Sonic's innocence against all odds, in reality, I feel like his predisposition to be prepared for betrayal would actually just make the situation hit even harder. He doesn't, and never will, have the endless faith and trust in his friends that other Sonics have. Letting his guard down is a conscious choice, and one he'll revoke at any time if he feels threatened
So as for the fugitive arc? I think it would hit Scourge, and hit Scourge hard. The initial stuff wouldn't bother him - what does he care if Sonic created Robotnik? If he can turn into Super? And the whole reason Scourge likes him at all is because he's a dick. Being attacked would make him hesitate, but it's not the first time someone has impersonated Sonic to ruin his reputation, so he cautiously holds out hope. But after all the tests "confirm" it really is him? Any hope he has shatters. He doesn't care about what happens to Mobius, but he does care about their relationship. To hear Sonic never actually cared about him, that he was being played for a fool (which, from what you described, I imagine is the angle the Metallix would go for during the whole "attacks them and leaves them to die" thing) would be a deep, deep wound. He trusts Sonic more than he's ever trusted anyone, and this is how he's repaid? Stupid. He should have known this Sonic would be no different than all the rest. He should have known better. He never should have let his guard down
Needless to say, he wouldn't take it well. He'd lash out. Yell at Tails for being an idiot for continuing to believe in Sonic's innocence. By this point he's probably developed enough of a relationship with the rest of the freedom fighters to still consider them... if not friends, then at least allies. They were attacked too, after all, and they're angry, just like him. But he'd pull back from them, become a little harsher, more on guard around them in case they betray him, too. Maybe he'd even take over the position of leadership, although I'm sure he would butt heads with Amy over that whenever they disagree on something, and those disagreements would be far worse than her disagreements with Sonic, because Scourge is hurting and is, at all times, two steps away from completely revoking his trust in everyone, so any disagreement from Amy feels like a personal attack and a potential warning sign to him
He'd probably try to hunt Sonic down. Idk what the priorities of the rest of the freedom fighters are - probably trying to un-fuck the world - but his priority is definitely getting revenge. It's probably one of the biggest reasons he clashes with Amy when they don't agree on how to lead the rest of the freedom fighters, and could even lead to him going off on his own if he's challenged one too many times by her. Scourge the Hedgehog doesn't take betrayal lying down. He gets his revenge no matter what
(It's made worse by the fact his anger and hurt don't erase the fact he still loves Sonic. Loving Sonic is habit, and those feelings don't go away so easily. Betrayal isn't enough to erase them, and the fact that they still exist makes him feel like his feelings are betraying him, too. He's hoping that getting revenge and being angry will crush the feelings he has for someone who no longer deserves them. It's why he can't slow down, can't stop, can't control his anger like everyone is asking him to. If he does that, he'll keep loving Sonic, and he doesn't want to do that after Sonic hurt him so badly)
TLDR: he wouldn't handle the events of the fugitive arc at all
#sonic the hedgehog#scourge the hedgehog#fleetway sonic#stc sonic#fleet!sonourge#asks#headcanon#man would go OFF THE FUCKING RAILS with rage#oooooo angst my belovedddddd#on the flip side i imagine sonic would be. so so hurt by scourge's lack of faith in him#his instinct when his friends appear to 'leave' him isn't always to be understanding (see: porker leaving the freedom fighters)#he'd struggle to understand the reason scourge can't have blind faith in him is because that isn't who he is. isn't how he grew up#whenever the truth comes to light i imagine scourge would feel guilty though#despite himself. despite his best attempts. he would not be able to simply stop loving sonic#those feelings would persist. and upon finding out sonic was innocent after all he'd feel guilty about not believing in the person he loves#sonic needed him. needed support. and scourge pushed him away and lashed out instead of looking for a different explanation#he trusts sonic more than anyone. why could he not just trust him this time too?#and sonic would still be hurt. yeah. yeah why DIDN'T scourge trust him and look for a different explanation?#what has he ever done to make scourge believe he'd betray him just like that?#in the aftermath their relationship would be SEVERELY torn#and they would have to put a lot of work into fixing it again#it's not irreparable. just the lowest point they've ever been at#thank you for your patience in waiting for me to answer this fhdsahjdsf what an interesting concept and conflict for them to explore#angst angst angst angst angstttttt angst my beloved
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i need to write a slasher x reader thing where they don't actually love u n are just using u for their own gain bc I'm way too into that n there's -69000000 content on it </3
#STU SPECIFICALLY i need him to act all lovey dovey then not hesitate to kill u oouuiyghhheaaaahhhh#too much 'ur their special person' content not enough 'ur nothing but a toy' content#smashes fists into table#kiln talks#but also I've never written an x reader before. i am so scared#i only write 3rd person fics.......#that's ok. faith trust pixie dust etc etc#slasher x reader#slasher x y/n#i need u guys to back me up on this n give me reqs I'm literally begging u i have no idea where to start
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Every now and then I remember that oni in fact will eventually have more lore added and I get so excited and scared for a moment and then I remember that it could take months until we see any of that and I proceed to forget abt it again and the cycle repeats
#rat rambles#oni posting#now it does sadden me a smidge that itll probably be in paid dlc but thats a problem for future me#the bright side of new lore is new lore#the downside of new lore is the eternal fear of canon jackie and olivia designs#not because Im opposed to them getting canon designs its just so scary#like what if klei made them white how would I move forward from that#and its not even a situation where I can say with any level of confidence if they would or not because god if I fucking know#like they have until very recently seemingly deliberately avoided including anything Too lore relevant in any animated trailers#but that can kind of just be explained by well. the fact that most of those updates didn't include any lore.#and those that do involve it stay strictly in the dupes perspective#so I can't rly use that as any sign that theyre deliberately avoiding giving olivia and jackie canon designs#I would highly prefer they dont get designs even without fear of designs I dislike mostly because narratively it just works better that way#but hey its not up to me so whatever happens happens#I mostly assume future lore is going to mostly relate to the dupe donors we havent met yet and elaborating on some of the ones we have seen#but dont see a lot of if anything at all#I hope they dont mess with jackie and olivia too much but I do think itd be nice to give jackie just a smidge more like Ive talked abt#and other than that I could see them adding maybe new story traits and if they're feeling real generous more dupe lore#oh and if we're mega lucky we could get a dr.holland first name#honestly I hope that for dr.holland specifically they either just do a hard name drop and move on or just dont touch him#rly my main concern with any added oni lore is I Really dont want them to start telling us too much#I really really like all of our information being very fragmented and unclear as it adds to the post end of the world vibe rly well#and this is in fact a problem that they had in older versions of the story that they seemingly went out of their way to solve#so I rly want to have faith that they wont fuck it up but I have been burned before and oni has yet to have fully earn my trust#its not far off tho just the scrapped logs themselves give me faith that they are aware what story theyre writing and what needs done#again the scrapped logs are cool but would have dampened the narrative quite significantly from how straight forward they are#so them being full one scrapped early on makes me hopeful that they realized that too#rly I just dont want too much expansion on the stuff we already know#some names and work ids would be splendid and Im all for new fragments to try to place in the timeline#I just dont want a log where nikola stares at the camera and monologues abt the duplicant project or smth
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If you haven’t seen Wish yet and you love Disney, do not go see it. I am telling you now. It is ripping out the hearts of the Disney movies you love and then waving their corpses around as if celebrating those hearts.
I’ll explain why, again: the message of Wish? Awful. Anti-Disney.
But they've been doing this for a long time. Saying one thing with their movies, and saying another with their PR and Disney Parks Soundtracks.
I'll explain.
Main Idea of Disney's Wish (and the You Are the Magic theme park song and merch): "The power to make your wishes come true is in you."
≠
Most Disney Movies' Idea on How to Have Wishes: "Do what's right, (trust a higher power) and something even more wonderful than what you wished will happen."
Don't try to argue with me about this. You have to look underneath the slogans and the sweater designs and the song titles to what the stories actually support to acknowledge this.
Because you can’t say “do what’s right” has power unless you answer the question “who gets to decide ‘what’s right?’” (Which, coincidentally, is a question Wish brings up and then doesn’t answer.)
Audiences of Disney used to accept that wishing on a star was much like prayer; there’s something you long for, and it’s out of your hands, but you wish for it and you do what you know is right in the meantime. And you’re not crushed, you’re not downhearted, because somewhere in your mind you trust that the combo of those two things—wishing on a higher power and diligence to do what’s good—will be what makes your wish come true.
Trust in a higher power—COMBINED WITH:
—diligence to do what’s good.
The Blue Fairy (higher power) gave Geppetto his wish specifically because he had demonstrated commitment to do good, whether he got what he wanted or not.
The Fairy Godmother (higher power) gave Cinderella her wish specifically because she kept on being kind and good to low creatures like mice and wicked stepsisters, whether she got what she wanted or not.
Do you know why that combo (higher power + diligence to do good) is impactful? Timeless? Important?
Because it’s selfless. You want something, but you’re not going to sacrifice doing the right thing to get it. You’re not going to focus so hard on making what you want a reality, on your own, that you miss out on things that could be more important than what you want. And, you’re not so self-focused as to believe that if you don’t do it, it won’t get done.
Jeez, that’s the whole point of The Princess and the Frog!
Tiana wishes to have her own restaurant, and she believes that only her own hard work will grant that wish. She misunderstands her dad’s advice before he dies. She isn’t willing to trust a higher power combined with her own diligence to do good—she only trusts her own ability.
It’s not until she realizes that Ray, the character of faith, was right all along that she learns—what she wished for was too self-focused. It wasn’t complete without love. Something bigger than herself. And getting that was never going to happen just based on her own hard work.
But you know what? It was never going to happen just by a “higher-power” flavored shortcut, either. Because Facilier offers her her wish if she’ll just trust him, no hard work needed. But what does she say?
Trust in a higher power + diligence to do what’s right = selflessness, and getting more than you could have ever wished for. And if your wish is selfish, doing those two things will change your wish into something selfless.
More examples? Get ‘em while they’re hot, in case Wish made you forget, just like the current #NotMyDisney executives have forgotten, what real Disney wishes are for.
Belle wishes to have adventures in the great wide somewhere--but when she's imprisoned and that chance is taken from her it's not reversed because she worked hard to make her wish come true. It's granted because she gave up her wish for her father: she just did the right thing, regardless of her wish. And in the end, she does get what she wished for, which is adventure in an enchanted castle...and much more, because she gets true love, a throne, and a castle full of friends.
How about the One Who Started It All? The one Wish is failing to pay genuine tribute to?
Snow White wishes for someone to love her, and he does--but when they're separated, she does not exercise power to make The Prince come back to her. Instead, she loves who she can where she’s at—the Dwarfs. In the meantime, she has faith that he will keep his promise, and that pure trust in a higher power outside of her control is a big contributing factor to why the Dwarfs come to love her, and learn from her...and in the end, even more than she could've wished happens. He does take her to his castle, but she also has seven new friends who also love her, and the Queen is dead. And she didn’t need to use “the power in her” to work harder and get it done. She just needed to not focus so much on herself at all.
How about a male main character? One who’s wish starts out selfish, but after learning to wish on a higher power and be diligent to do the right thing, gets more than he could wish for?
Aladdin wishes to be somebody different (somebody he believes Jasmine could love, somebody who lives in a palace and is respected and “never has any troubles at all.”)—but doing everything in his own power for that wish proves that it was selfish all along; so he switches to doing the right thing, regardless of if his wish comes true, and he gets even more than he could’ve wished. He gets real love with Jasmine, he gets his friend Genie, and he gets to be free from feeling “trapped” because he doesn’t have to hide who he is anymore.
Or Simba?
Simba wishes to get to do whatever he wants as King—but when Mufasa dies and he’s convinced it’s his fault, it isn’t for that wish that he goes back to Pride Rock to confront his past and his Uncle. It’s because he had an encounter with a higher power—his father—that helped him to realize his wish was selfish all along. He gives up the selfish wish, and he goes back to take his place as king, not so he can do whatever he wants, but so that he can take self-sacrificial responsibility that comes with ruling. And because he just does the right thing, finally, he gets more than what he wished for.
How about something more recent? Zootopia.
Judy wishes to make the world a better place by proving she can be what she wants to be and catching bad guys—but when she tries to make her wish happen on her own, in her own abilities, she fails and is forced to realize that she should’ve been looking for help by understanding “bad guys,” like Nick. It’s only after she humbled herself, admits she’s wrong, and changes her wish from “proving I can be what I want and catching bad guys” to “proving that understanding each other makes the world a better place” (much less self-focused) that her wish comes true—and so much more. She does make the world a better place, and she does get to catch bad guys, but she also gets to befriend one who was a good guy all along, and become all-around more effective at her dream job.
This is how Disney always has been. Because it’s at the heart of good storytelling, and even life (not to get too dramatic.)
The power is not in you. Because it’s not about you. Self-sacrifice, faith, and doing the next right thing regardless of if you get your heart’s fondest desire is what makes more than just your wishes come true. And there has to be belief in a higher power to make that message powerful.
But Wish?
Not only is it bad at showing instead of telling. Not only is it lazy and soulless.
But it’s characters rip the Star out of the sky and say “don’t wish on this. Wish on yourself, to get what you wish for. You don’t need a higher power. You don’t even need to sacrifice to do what’s good—whatever you do is good, because you are the one doing it.”
That is wrong. That is not true, and it is not powerful. There’s no sacrifice in focusing on or placing your trust totally in yourself, and it undoes every good thing Disney has done up until now.
And it undoes it on the 100th anniversary, and it flaunts Easter eggs of the very things it’s undoing.
#pinocchio#disney#wish#Disney’s wish#wish Disney#Wish#Disney#meta#character analysis#storytelling#the princess and the frog#Disney fan#princess tiana#tiana#Naveen#Dr. Facilier#disney villains#asha#king Magnifico#Valentino#queen Amaya#ariana debose#chris pine#Cinderella#classic movies#film analysis#animated movies#animation#wish 2023#Aladdin
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—"PRINCE CHARMING'S KISS" dormleaders
💭masterlist | 💬ao3 link
synopsis: a potionology accident involving the adeuce duo leads to the prefect falling into a deep sleep. only an act of true love's kiss can save them and it seems that ace and deuce picked a certain boy to play prince charming.
⊹ [ cw ] — none◞
⊹ [ tags ] — FLUFF.GN! READER | papa crewel doesn't seem too happy, cauldrons, tomato riddle, azul tries to get engaged, kalim bawling his eyes out, soft vil, idia is about to pop a vein, malleus throws a lamp at lilia and it's deserved◞
⊹ [ w.c ] — 4k+◞
"I SUMMON THEE, CAULDRON!"
"Deuce! No! I asked you to grab one not-" Before you could stop him, the cauldron already smashed against the pot atop your desk, flinging all the contents of the pink bubbling potion all over you.
"You dumbass! They said grab one, not summon one!" Ace hissed, throwing a towel over your soaked form. "Shit. We need to get them to Professor Crewel and — Oi, Prefect!?"
You fell forward, falling limp in Ace's arms as you both tumbled to the floor. Panicked, Ace was quick to push you onto your back, slapping your cheek and shaking you furiously. "Wake up!"
"W-What happened?" Deuce ran towards you two, guilt pooling in his stomach. His blood ran cold with fear once he saw just how pale and cold your face had turned. "Are they dead?!"
"No. It's not that strong of a potion." Crewel sighed, striding towards the two morons with a venomous scowl on his lips.
Leaning down, your adoptive-father gingerly tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear. All previous ire he exhibited seemingly melting away. "Oh darling, I have no idea why you chose these two strays as friends…"
"Once again, you've brought my pup to harm with your incompetence." The professor stood up straight once again, his stern gaze fixed on the two youngsters.
"Nonetheless, I think this will be a valuable learning experience for the two of you." Crewel said, grabbing a thick aged book from a nearby shelf and thrusting it into Ace's arms.
"That book there contains the instructions to brew the cure."
"D-Do we have to make the- uff-" Deuce coughed, unintentionally breathing in a cloud of dust released by the old book. "-cure ourselves?"
Crewel drew his eyebrows up to his hairline, jaw dropped in disbelief. "Seven's no! I'll be making the cure myself; I have zero faith in you two."
"You two are to write a 10,000 word long report about the potion and I expect it on my desk by tomorrow." The professor pressed a boney finger against the cover, a wicked grin spreading across his face.
"Oh, and I trust that you'll keep my pup safe. You know the consequences if I find even a single hair missing from their head." The two watched helplessly as Crewel walked away, his sharp heels clicking against the floor.
"Man. What's with him." Ace grumbled, flinging the book at Deuce who easily caught it with one hand.
"Deuce, what'cha say we just head to Ramshackle?" Ace hummed, nudging your unconscious form with his foot. He hadn't even bothered with picking you up. Opting to just leave you sprawled out on the cold tiles.
Ace was truly the most friend ever.
"Interesting…" Deuce muttered, clasping a hand around his chin. Ace raised his brow, peeking over his friend's shoulder to read the text on the yellowed pages.
"One of the cures listed here is…"
✩—RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS:
"A True Love's Kiss…?" Riddle trailed off before scowling at his two dorm members. Just what sort of shenanigans were they pulling now?
He lowered his teacup slowly while frowning and blinking incoherently. "Could this be another one of your pitiful attempts at a joke?"
"Why the hell would we joke about his?" Ace whined.
Riddle shook his head, walking over to your unconscious form draped over Deuce's shoulder like a stack of potatoes. Checking your temperature, he pressed his hand against your forehead and tsk'd at the heat.
For a split second, his eyes briefly wandered over to your lips.
What if…
Snapping out of it, Riddle stepped back with his burning pink cheeks.
"What utter nonsense. Hand me that book, I can brew the potion myself." Riddle said, pulling his gloves off before he then motioned for Deuce to pass him the book.
"Ah yeah…about that-" Ace chuckled, folding his arms behind his head. "Crewel didn't allow any of us to make the cure…so you're kinda our only hope."
The part where Crewel promised to produce the cure was purposefully left out by Ace. In truth, there really was no reason for Riddle to kiss you other than to serve as Ace's entertainment but hush now Riddle didn't have to know that.
"Well them, pray tell, what makes you think I should take the role of Prince Charming? "
"You get that disgusting dopey look on your face when you see them." Ace smirked.
"I-I do not!" Riddle shouted, face turning a deep cherry-red. Ace laughed, pointing at Riddle's flushed cheeks. "See?! You're turning into a tomato!"
"How are we certain that they even like me back?!"
"Ugh! Stop being a coward! You'll never know if you don't try!"
They began arguing anew, flinging insult after insult at one other. Deuce sighs and places you down on the couch in the lounge. He knew that if they continued their screaming, nothing would be done. It's was time he took things into his own hands.
Deuce grabs Riddle by the arm, dragging him towards you. The redhead turns to him, demanding the first-year to let go but Deuce only shakes his head. "I'm sorry house warden, I'll bear the brunt of your punishment later but I need to fix what I did."
"No-! W-Wait-" Riddle sputters, digging his feet into the ground. "I-I can't possibly-How unconsensual!-"
"Whoops!" Ace seizes the opportunity to shove the redhead forward, causing his lips to meet with yours.
"?!" Riddle stills for a few seconds, his calloused palms resting on your cheeks. Peering at you through shaky lashes, Riddle snaps out of his lovesick stupor and jolts back. His face blooming into an even deeper red than thought possible.
"R..iddle…?" His heart hammers against his ribcage as you flutter your eyes open, blinking up at him. The press and warmth of your lips still remained and a million of thoughts raced through his head. One of them seemed to echo louder than the rest.
At his lips’ touch you blossomed like a rose and the cure was complete, bringing the enchantment to an end. He was your 'True Love'?
Riddle hesitantly cradled your body, assisting you in sitting up. He coughed, averting his eyes to the ground, unable to meet yours.
"I apologize for the unsolicited kiss however, seeing as how my feelings are returned." He turned to you, clasping your hand tight in his. "I would like to court you properly. H-How does lunch tomorrow at noon sound?"
✩— LEONA KINGSCHOLAR:
"…so that's why I dumped them onto ya' bed." Ruggie yawned, extending his arms over his head.
There you were, curled up against Leona's king-sized bed, clutching one of his pillows tight in your arms. Blissfully oblivious to the fact that your friends abandoned you, placing you in the clutches of a hyena and at the mercy of a lion.
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"So, since Leona's a prince and all, that 'True Love Kiss' stuff could totally work with him, right?" Ace grinned, placing his hands on his hips. "I've read 'bout it in fairy tales all the time! The prince kisses the girl and boom!"
"How'd desperate are ya' to go running to Leona for help?" Ruggie sniggered, grabbing a handful of dry clothes off of the clothesline.
Really, it was both pitiful and humorous at the same time. The two chose to cast the irritable, hot-headed lion as the Prince Charming in their decrepit fairy tale.
Let's be honest, when you hear the term "charming," the first thing that came to mind was not Leona Kingscholar.
Adjusting the laundry basket, he propped it against his hip, Ruggie tapped his chin and pondered. "I can help but it'll come with a price…"
Deuce rushed forward, shoving a box of donuts into Ruggie's free hand. "Will this cover it?!"
Whistling, Ruggie flicked the box open. His eyes gleamed seeing all the tooth-rotting pastries heaped atop each other.
A sly grin stretched across his face.
"Deal."
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After Ace and Deuce handed you over to Ruggie, the hyena unceremoniously barged into Leona's room and all but threw you onto the bed.
"True Love's Kiss? Do those things even exist?" Leona scoffed, tossing a blanket over your form. Ruggie shrugged, heading out of Leona's room. "Dunno but since you two like each other, I figured you would wanna help."
Leona rolled his eyes, glancing at you. Your face was shoved against the pillow, a leg hooked over it. Well, by the looks of it, you seemed pretty comfortable. There was no harm in letting you stay for a bit.
"Shihshishi good luck on your love life." Ruggie grinned, sending Leona a thumbs up before slamming the door close.
"Damn hyena…" Leona grumbled, plopping down next to your sleeping body. His gaze poured over your skin, gliding across the contour of your jawline before settling on your lips. Leona softly pushed down on your lips with his thumb, parting them ever so slightly.
"So, you need a True Love's Kiss…" Leona whispered, leaning in, eyes fluttering close. "I better be the only one, herbivore."
His lips pressed firmly against yours, a hand propped under your chin to keep your head up. The kiss was unusually delicate and tender for someone of his nature, such a stark contrast to his gruff personality. Leona moved closer and his hair fell over his shoulders, chestnut locks draping across your chest. Within a few minutes, Leona drew back to see if you had awakened.
You stirred, bleary eyes blinking open and he smirked. Pride swelled in his chest as he leaned down to kiss you again, his tail curling around your waist.
"You're all mine, huh?"
✩— AZUL ASHENGROTTO:
"Man, just how strong are you eels?!" Ace growled, banging his fists against Floyd's back. Both of the Heartslabyul boys were slung over Floyd's shoulder, his grip on them tight and unfaltering.
Beside him, Deuce was kicking around, trying (and failing) to get the merman's grip on him to loosen. Suddenly, one of Deuce's kicks hit Floyd square in the jaw and the eel growled.
"Neh~ Squirm around some more and I'll snap both of your legs off." Floyd grinned, his bright sharp teeth on full display. Although hesitant, the threat seemed to work as the two boys stilled, not wishing to lose their ability to walk any time soon.
"Now, Floyd, there's no need for such aggression." Jade chuckled as he approached the group with you in his arms. Unlike Floyd's manhandling, you were carried in a firm bridal carry, treated as if you were a precious piece of china or rather…an offering.
"We just got word on the prefect's condition." Jade shut his eyes, placing a hand against his chest in faux sympathy. "How unfortunate that they've succumbed to such a fate. However, lucky for you we found a solution."
"Ya need a Prince Charming right~? Well, let's have Azul do it!" Floyd cheered, slamming the two boys down onto the ground. Ace groaned, cradling his back and squinting at the tweels. "You think you can drag me into another one of those contracts?! I'm not stupid!"
"Oh, you're mistaken. This one is free of charge, no strings attached." Jade chuckled.
"Yeah…I don't really believe that." Deuce muttered.
"Why're you so damn stubborn?! Can't we just hand shrimpy to Azul? I'm sick of seeing him makin' those dumb goo goo eyes." Floyd whined.
The eel yanked you from Jade's arms and stomped up to Azul's office. He kicked the door down, nearly knocking it off its hinges.
Jolting, Azul accidentally spilled ink all over his papers. The delicate fine print he spent hours painstakingy writing by hand dissolved into large blots of ink. His eye twitched as he grit his teeth, snapping his head up to meet Floyd's gaze.
"Floyd. What in the great seven's are you—?!" Azul was cut off when the eel plopped your dozing body onto his lap. It took the octo-mer a few seconds before he registered just what happened, cheeks burning a bright crimson when he realized you were pressed up snug against his chest.
"It's your lucky day, Azul~! You get to play Prince Charming!" Floyd sang as he made his way to the door. "Shrimpy here got cursed because of Mackerel and Crab so now you have to kiss them!"
Kiss…? Azul's mind went haywire but before he could speak any further, Floyd slithered out of the room and slammed the door shut.
It's not that he doesn't believe in the cure; love is a strong thing, and he's read that it can break even the most powerful curses. Even so, how could he promise that you'd wake up?
Azul pressed a hand behind your head, trying to calm his beating heart. Did you even acknowledge his feelings?
"True Love's kiss…Well, it wouldn't hurt to try." He murmurs, raising a trembling hand to rest against your cheek. He leans down and lightly presses his lips against yours, ever so clumsy, before checking for any reactions.
Azul stares down on your drowsy body as your eyes flicker open. He stares at you owlishly before breaking into a giddy grin.
"Prefect, s-seeing as how I'm your True Love-" Azul hastily unlocked his top desk drawer, pulling out a fancy piece of paper and handing it to you. "Let's make it official with a contract."
"..."
Blinking, you looked down and read the text on the paper. Azul smiled at you expectantly, nudging a pen towards your direction.
"Azul, this is an engagement contract…?"
"Precisely."
✩— KALIM AL ASIM:
Jamil peered at Kalim through a crack in the slightly-ajar door. Seeing the poster boy for the golden-retriever personality sulking was truly a rare sight. Kalim had his head buried in his hands, kneeling by his bed which had your sleeping form atop it.
"What did you tell him?!" Jamil hissed, whipping his head around to glare at both Ace and Deuce.
"W-We just told him how we needed a Prince Charming's kiss to break the spell…" Deuce trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck. "…we figured since he was related to royalty, he could break it."
"He must have misunderstood it then." Jamil sighed, slipping into the dark room. So dark in fact that he could barely make out the silhouette of his dorm leader. Kalim had shut the drapes so tightly that not a single ray of sunshine could strike through his bedroom. How…dramatic.
"Kalim, what's the matter…?" Jamil approached the young boy, placing his hand atop Kalim's shoulder. He didn't miss the sight of the pure gold jewelry hastily draped across your neck or the iris bouquet in your hands. Well…it was evident who all those were from. You looked like you came straight out of a Scarabian version of Snow White.
"J-Jamil!" Kalim wailed, screwing his eyes shut as thick globs of tears ran down his flushed puffy face. The vice dorm leader sighed and reached for a tissue box, which he handed to the distraught boy. Kalim snatched a fistful of tissues and blew his nose loudly.
"The prefect is cursed to sleep forever-! A-And I couldn't find the cure!" He cried out in anguish. Jamil squinted his eyes. "Kalim, in case you forgot, the cure is-"
"I know! Prince Charming's kiss!" Kalim interrupted, wiping away his tears with the back of his arm making Jamil grimace. "I sent out hundreds of search parties but he hasn't been found!"
Jamil paused.
Ah. In foresight, he really should have seen this coming…
Jamil pinched the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath to get his irritation under control. He reached for the hood of Kalim's shirt and yanked him back. Hissing into his ear, the snake spat. "Kalim, the Prince Charming is you."
"Wh-Whgat?" Kalim sniffed, his voice muffled and hoarse from his crying.
"You. You're the prince charming." Jamil groaned, running a hand over his face.
Kalim started at Jamil for a minute or two, processing what his friend just said. Eventually, he broke out into a wide smile and happy laughter.
Wasting no time, he was quick to swoop you into his arms, drawing you into a clumsy yet endearing kiss. It only took a few seconds before your eyes blinked open. He pulled away but not before pressing another quick peck on your cheek.
"So, I'm your prince charming, huh?" Kalim beamed, sending a you a silly toothy grin. He leaned down and peppered your flushed face with kisses once more, making you feel like your head was about to explode.
"Y-Yeah-" You shot him a bashful yet thankful smile.
Filled with happiness, the teen jumped to his feet and drew you into his arms. He lifted you up by the waist and spun you around, his loud laughter echoing out through the room.
"I'm so glad! Ah! But I still have to cancel all those search parties though…"
✩—VIL SCHOENHEIT:
"Tsk. This is what I said about hanging out with those hooligans potato." Vil scowled, seething in rage and looking as if he was just about to hex both Ace and Deuce for this accident. "It'll only bring you trouble."
After he was informed of the incident by Rook, he wasted no time in whisking you away from your two incompetent friends and claiming he would care for you himself. Like hell he was letting you stay in that shabby dorm of yours.
Vil eased you into a luxurious bed in one of Pomefiore's spare rooms, draping a delicate lilac blanket around your torso. His palms brushed up against your brow, softly smoothing out the creases along your brow line.
Dspite the color vanishing from your cheeks and the once bright visage that made you look so vibrant losing it's glow, Vil believed you to be ethereal.
"True Love's Kiss can wake her from the spell." Vil murmured, reading off of a page in the book Deuce handed to him.
"Hmph, if I had a Madol for everytime that was listed as a cure." This wasn't the first time he'd heard of such a thing. Vil has spend hours pouring over potionology books and you'd be surprised at just how many spells and curses have it mentioned. A tad bit overrated if you asked him.
"Though there will be no need for a Prince Charming, potato." Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a small vial filled with a glimmering silver liquid.
The liquid swished around in the bottle, sparkling brightly. As you've probably guessed, this was the cure. Vil wasn't appointed Pomefiore's dorm leader for nothing. If he could make one of the most potent poisons this campus has ever seen then he surely knew how to make a cure as simple as this. It was mere child's play.
"The potion will suffice. Even a single drop is enough to wake you." He twisted the bottle open, gently grabbing a hold of your jaw to part your lips. He leaned down, holding the bottle over your face before pausing.
"As if I'd need True Love's Kiss to prove myself." Vil scoffed, eyes latching onto your face, his gaze intense yet warm. He tipped the bottle down, allowing a single drop to fall into your mouth before capturing your lips with his in a tender yet feverish kiss.
Vil eventually pulled away and hummed seeing the color and flush return to your skin. His fingers combed through your disheveled hair, undoing any knots. Your eyes fluttered open and Vil huffed, gliding his fingers along your flushed cheeks.
"Your skin is far too puffy, an unfortunate side effect of the cure. Worry not, I'll go grab a facemask for you." Vil pushed himself off of the bed, heels clicking against the floor as he marched out of the room. "A spa day is just what you need after another incident, potato."
It was all thanks to his potion that were you able to wake, he tells himself. Vil Schoenheit was not one for fairytales or wishing. He knew that he didn't need some magical curse or wish to win you over. No, he was confident he could accomplish it on his own.
As Vil eases the translucent mask onto your face, you smile brightly at him and his chest blooms in a sudden warmth.
Yes, it was definitely the potion.
✩—IDIA SHROUD:
"S-seriously, w-wh-hy me? Do I look like a Prince Charming to y-you?" Idia groaned, trying to shut the door but Ace stuck his foot through the opening. "Knock it off with the grin, geez… Weirdo…"
"We know you both have romantic feelings for each other!" Deuce shouted, holding you in his arms. "We really need your help!"
Idia shrieked, hair burning up slightly. He could barely hold eye contact with you for 3 seconds, what makes these two think that he could even survive kissing you? The poor boy would end up melting into a puddle of sad gooey awkwardness.
"J-Just wait until C-Crewel finishes the potion!" Idia shouted, shoving Ace away and slamming the door shut. His chest heaved up and down as he pressed his back against the door, arms awkwardly splayed to his sides, scrambling to keep the door shut.
His eyes ripped wide in panic when Ace continued to pound at the door, calling his name. "C'mon, Idia! Most people would take this as a great opportunity to win their crush over you know!"
"NOPE, NOPE, NOPE. COUNT ME OUT. I'M NOT GOING DOWN THE ROMANCE ROUTE." Idia vehemently shook his head, burying his face into the fabric of his shirt.
Ortho laughed silently, heading over to his distressed brother who looked like he was about to pop a vein. Scratch that, he probably already has.
"Big brother, didn't you and the prefect already go on a date?" Orthro said, tilting his head up to meet Idia's shaky gaze. "Why the big deal? It's just a small kiss."
"Th-That was different! I-I-It was a gaming session through a screen!" Idia sinked to the floor, curling up into a ball. He sobbed pathetically. "I could barely even keep my composure-No way am I surviving IRL."
"Yeah but they need you right now. You may not be Prince Charming but I'm sure the prefect would prefer you over any other." Ortho whispered, placing a hand atop Idia's own. The dorm leader's lip quivered, newfound courage blooming in his chest. He shakily stood up, knees wobbling from his nerves.
"…They need me."
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"I'm telling you Deuce, this guy's hopeless." Ace sighed, lips drawn into a thin line as he casually leaned against the door. Deuce frowned, lightly kicking Ace's shin. "Don't say such things about our senior!"
"Oh yeah? But he's-Argh! " Ace yelped falling backwards as the door abruptly opened. With a grunt, he landed on his back and found himself staring up at Idia's flushed face.
"Alright, n-normies. I-I-I'll d-d-do it."
Idia stepped aside and let Deuce enter his room. Anxiously fiddling with his hands, Idia watched the first-year carefully set you on his bed before stepping out of the room.
"We'll leave everything to you!" The two scurried away and Ortho also excused himself, leaving to give you two privacy. Idia stood in the middle of his room, a great distance away from you.
Alright, he could do this. It was just a simple little kiss, no biggie.
Hovering his shaky hands over your cheeks, Idia leaned over your form. His breath fanning across your face as he moved in, delicately brushing his lips against yours.
Your hands snaked around his neck, drawing him in deeper making the boy squeak. Pulling away, Idia averted his gaze, voice small and meek.
"H-Hey you. You're finally awake…"
✩—MALLEUS DRACONIA:
In a tall tower atop Diasomnia, an ominious green glow was emanating from an open window. Thick towering brambles, thorns, and vines wrapped itself around the brooding dorm. In the sky, claps of lightning and thunder flashed amongst the darkening clouds.
"Ah…we lost the prefect." Deuce deadpanned, his gaze fixed on the overgrown thick shrubs in front of them. Ace reached for a thorn, hissing as the tip of his finger was cut.
"Yeah..it's best if we leave them to Malleus, I don't think we can even get past all of…this."
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Lilia stood in the corner watching as Malleus tenderly placed you onto the bed, the dragon fae handling you as if you were a delicate piece of glass that could break at any second.
"Ah~ Are you going to be their Prince Charming? Khee hee, how ador—"
"Lillia, we need more pillows. There's hardly enough here." Malleus abruptly cut in, a stern look on his face.
Lilia blinked, gaze drawn over to the bed already filled to the brim with pillows of all shapes and sizes, so much so that some of them began pooling around the floor. All evidence of Malleus' nesting instinct.
"What a tragedy. There is to be a pillow scarcity in Diasomnia because of the devastation lay upon the prefect." Lilia replied, a dramatic theatrical sigh leaving his lips. He hurried out the door to meet Malleus' requests before the storm outside worsened. The dragon fae was already aggrevated, there was no need to make things worse.
Malleus' gaze was drawn to your serene expression, his aching heart plummeting to his stomach. Bending down, he softly cradled you in his arms. "Oh, my treasure, if only I could have prevented this."
He buried his face into the crook of your neck, pressing kisses amongst your skin before trailing them up to your lips. Fluttering his eyes shut, Malleus wrapped his arms around your waist, lifting you off the bed as he pressed his lips firmly against yours.
Malleus drew back to see you ogle at him with with wide eyes, your fingers having immediately shot up touch your tingling lips. Chuckling, he bent down once more to press his lips against yours. You two exchanged kisses for what seemed like hours, the press of his lips against yours leaving your lungs burning and heaving for air. At some point he slipped into bed with you, holding himself above your body with his elbows.
"Khee hee, You two know it's supposed to be a 'True Love's Kiss' not 'Kisses', right?" Lilia barged into the room, a comically large pile of pillows in his arms. Malleus growled and tossed a lamp his way, one which Lillia dodged easily. The lamp shattered against the wall behind him, scattering into fragments across the floor.
"Ah ah, there's no need to be so furious. Let me just drop these off and I'll be on my merry way." Lilia cheered, dropping the pillows by the foot of the bed. He reached into his pocket and pulled out an old bulky camera. "Might as well take pictures!"
Snarling, Malleus drew his hand back to reach for the large painting sitting above the bed. You snaked a hand around his wrist, silently begging him to not hurl another object at his bat-dad.
"My baby boy is in love-OW!"
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
✩— EXTRA:
"What did I say about keeping them out of harms way." Crewel snarled through clenched teeth, sitting in the detention room with both Ace and Deuce. Ace chuckled awkwardly, shrugging his shoulders.
"Well if you look on the bright side, your kid finally has a love life, so there's that!"
Likes and Reblogs are greatly appreciated and really motivating on my end!
Taglist: @keedas , @spadecentral
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#Lilia: “We can't anger Malleus any further.” *proceeds to anger Malleus*#twst#twst x reader#twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland x reader#twisted wonderland imagines#twisted wonderland scenarios#riddle rosehearts#riddle rosehearts x reader#leona kingscholar#leona kingscholar x reader#azul ashengrotto#azul ashengrotto x reader#kalim al asim#kalim al asim x reader#vil schoenheit#vil schoenheit x reader#idia shroud#idia shroud x reader#malleus draconia#malleus draconia x readerr#twst imagines#twst scenarios#twstnexus#papa crewel#professor crewel
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typed out a wholepost about how i constantly crave attention ornevencjust That Person. drafted it because i said waymore thwn i want people to see (i am haha unstable on here. buti dont want to. like. i dont want you guys seeing me just. unstable). stood up. realized imwearing my exes shirt. and now im doing even worse. so. haha feeing kind of unstable here
#i wish i cried easier because how else am i supposedto fucking. get these emotions out.#like yeah writing that post made me feel a bitbetter but. this shit is like. its so much a part of me that i dont think ill ever be able to#escape it. like yes obviously i need therapy but. i just. idk#my self defense mechanisms have always been too strong. to like. have therapy be helpful#being surrounded by suicidal kids. really teaches you what to say and what not to say to a therapist. like#its hard to explain im just. to this day i dont thinkid ever be honest about suicidal feelings or self harm thoughts because. like#no offense to the whole of psychiatry. im not going to your fucking hell house of an inpatient center.#and i have so little faith in therapists that im just so sure. that the second that i say one wrong thing i get shipped off to the .#places of ly nightmares. no im not exaggerating like. both have my siblings have been where i would be sent. it is Not A Good Place.#neither is the bigger one around here :) both are known for their horrible fucking treatment.#my brother was just some kid they would shove pills in to see if they work. they diagnosed him with dvery thing they could so they could#hhhhuhm. when did this become about my fucking therapy trauma i think ive gotten rid of the firdt breakdown by having a separate. Issue#anyways. im sure therapists are great for other people but i dont fucking know how ill ever be able to trust a therapist#side note: if a family therapist ever getd brought up in conversation. kill yourself it will save you the trauma.#whew um. really said a lot here now i dont even want to post this one#i will because at the end of the day im always starving for attention. but like#haha please dont like. give me pity or shit. i am not posting it for anyone to see it and go aw :( poor jacey wacey :((#im posting this because i feel likemy head will explode if i dont let these emotions out somehow#jace.txt
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Sooooo I learned a valuable lesson last night. Which is not to draft things in tumblr. Because I wrote almost all of this in drafts, was like 15 minutes from posting. And then the app glitched when I changed the song I was listening to and lost everything.
I’m not entirely sure I wrote this version half as well as the original, which is maddening. But please enjoy this next part to the Mister(s) Steal Your Girl (poly 141) series.
CW for ✨spice✨
You honestly didn’t expect to speak to Kyle again after the bookshop encounter. Sure, you exchanged numbers and he seemed so sincere, but your faith in reading people has been a bit shaken as of late.
That said, you wouldn’t have held it against him if you didn’t. You’d had a wonderful time meeting someone new, even if just for a moment. He seemed like a busy man in a high-stress job, it wouldn’t be a surprise if he looked at your open-relationship-with-a-fiance situation and decided it was too much drama.
But the very next day after meeting him, he sends you a text. Repeating that he had a great time and asking if you’ve already started any of the books you bought.
You try (and probably fail) not to giggle like a schoolgirl every time he texts you. He’s as sweet through the phone as he was in person. Throughout the week, he checks on you (more messages than you’ve gotten from your fiance in a month) asking after your days and nights and generally chatting.
On Thursday at lunch, you ask if he’d like to meet up again, heart clenching anxiously. Nearly throw your phone across the break room when his name pops up as an incoming call.
When you answer, he doesn’t even waste time on a greeting.
“I’d like to take you on a date, luv,” he specifies, voice silky and amused in your ear.
Date one is a nice dinner. He shows up at the door with flowers. You have to take a second to blink away the mist in your eyes.
“Sorry, sorry,” you hurry to say, summoning a smile. “Just no one’s ever bought me flowers. Thank you, they’re wonderful.”
And then you realize that probably sounds pathetic and quickly turn away to deposit them in a vase. (Miss the baffled and almost offended frown on Kyle’s face as that processes.)
At dinner, the two of you toast by tapping your appetizers together. He feeds you bites of his meal from his own fork, and you let him try your wine, giggling at the faces he makes.
The night ends (after dessert, a walk in the park, and a nightcap at a quiet bar) at your front door. Kyle fits a big, warm hand on your waist, pulls you in… and drops a chaste kiss to your cheek.
You try not to let your disappointment show, but he must catch it because he chuckles and gently nudges your face back into position. Graces you with another kiss at the corner of your mouth.
“I want to, darling,” he admits, so close you’re sharing air. “Trust me, I want to. But I need you to know I’m doing this for the right reasons too.”
Touched and a little choked up, you hug him tight, cheek pressed to his chest. His breath stutters. And then his strong arms are curling around you, tucking you in, his whole body becoming a warm haven.
“Can we… can we do this again?” you ask hopefully.
“Darling, I’d take you out tomorrow if you’d let me.”
Date two is bowling, which you find Kyle is actually terrible at, despite being a sniper. You laugh and joke through three games, trouncing him each time. He doesn’t seem to mind losing in the slightest, and even takes you out for a victory ice cream afterwards. You hold hands while you lick at the cone.
Date three, you invite him to a wine and paint night. He seems willing, though unsure. By the end, though, the two of you are giggling and tipsy, paint on your hands and faces. He kisses you against the passenger door of his car, lips soft and gentle. Moans when the tip of his tongue skims your bottom lip.
On date four, you sing to the radio in the car. Blush when you catch him sneaking glances at you, but also notice that he goes around the same block twice. Tease that you’re going to be late if he keeps stalling.
At the end of the night, he sweeps you in close on the dance floor.
“Come home with me?” he asks in your ear.
Your heart stumbles as you nod, cheeks hot.
He barely gets you in the door before pressing you back against it. Fingers in your hair, body one firm line pressed flush to yours. Kissing earnest but not rough, flicking at your bottom lip until you open for him with a soft sigh. He tastes like heaven, like the drinks you shared before this. Your fingers curl into his Henley, tugging him closer, arching your back.
The desire he’s been steadily building in your gut bursts into an inferno. You’re burning all over, can barely breathe. Dizzy with his cologne.
You break the kiss with a squeak when he scoops up beneath the thighs.
“I-I’m too heavy!” you gasp, clinging tight.
“Like hell you are,” he scoffs. “Come back here, I’m not done kissing you.”
You hesitate, taking stock. But he doesn’t feel like he’s straining; didn’t even make that mortifying grunt noise. Feel secure enough to lean back just a bit to check his expression.
There’s not an ounce of effort there. Just liquid dark eyes focused on your swollen lips, tilting his chin to coax you back. You go with a little thrill in your stomach, messier this time, teeth scraping.
He bumps you against the wall on his way to the bedroom. It doesn’t hurt but it makes you laugh against his cheek.
“Love your laugh,” he murmurs into your neck. “Could listen to it all day.”
Somehow that makes you flush more than the hard bulge pressing against your ass. So you shove your tongue in his mouth again to shut him up, breathless at his tongue curling against yours.
You squeal when he drops you on the bed with a little bounce, a brilliant, cheeky smile your reward. Then he tugs his shirt off and your mind goes utterly blank.
He’s a monument of strength and discipline, power in every plane of hard-earned muscle. There are glossy scars peppering his skin, and you’re fascinated as much as you are sad for his pain. He looks like a young god. You’ve seen marble statues half as beautiful as him.
“You’re bloody gorgeous,” you whisper, crawling to the edge of the bed.
He shivers and leans into your palms as they explore up his toned stomach, across the defined lines of his chest and shoulders, down his arms. Leave open-mouthed kisses against long-healed wounds and patches of smooth skin alike, appreciating every part of him.
He uses your interlocked fingers to draw you away, bending to meet you halfway. Speckles kisses over your cheeks and jaw, down to a tender spot beneath your ear that makes you hum. You could melt into him and just float.
He pauses there, breathes you in. “Can I take this off?” he asks, plucking at your shirt. You hesitate, just for a beat — but it’s enough to have Kyle pulling back a little.
“We can stop here,” he offers. “Or we can just keep doing this. Whatever you want, luv, I’m not fussed.”
You duck your head, but he doesn’t let you escape for long, gently guiding your gaze up by the chin.
“Talk to me?” he asks.
“I-I want to keep going,” you say, “I’m just… and you’re so…”
He shakes his head, kisses you quiet. “I’m not anything but a man that wants to make his girl happy. In whatever way she’s okay with, yeah?”
You have to blink away another sting of inopportune tears. Then reach for your shirt and pull it off yourself.
“Bloody hell,” he murmurs, eyes going big.
You flush as he nudges you back, spread out amongst the neat sheets and pillows. His eyes trace every inch of you over and over, hands quick to follow. The contrast of his rough palms on your skin makes you squirm and sigh. He touches you like you’re something special, like he wants to savor you.
He nibbles kisses into your collarbones, lavishes your breasts with tongue and gentle teeth. Works his way down your stomach and stops again.
“Can I take the rest off?” he asks.
You don’t hesitate this time, shifting to give him access to the zipper. His hands fumble a bit when he notices the embarrassing wet patch on your underwear, thumbing at your slit through the fabric.
“Please let me eat you out,” he breathes.
You press your thighs together, nervous. “Y-you don’t have to…”
“I want to, luv,” he answers, eyes barely flickering away. “Fuck do I want to.”
Words desert you, so all you can manage is a jerky nod. For the first time, his patience seems to fray as he tugs your underwear off. Barely gets them down to one ankle before diving between your legs.
He laces sweet kisses along your thighs and hips, slowing as he gets closer and closer to where you want him most. His tongue dips into your slit, just skims your throbbing and sensitive clit. You moan softly. The next swipe of his tongue is bolder, curling at your soaked entrance. He groans into you, deep and animal from his chest and makes you shudder.
“That’s it, baby,” he whispers. “Just enjoy.”
It’s impossible not to when he pampers your cunt so thoroughly. Never rough, never too fast. Like he could spend all night between your thighs. Sucking gently at your clit, thrusting his tongue inside, lapping in perfect, even strokes. You didn’t think you enjoyed oral from the few times you’ve experienced it — but Kyle makes it heavenly.
One of his hands, squeezing absently at your hip, travels down. He presses a finger at your entrance, playing in your slick but not going further. Waiting. You murmur a soft “please” that nearly has him growling.
Even just one finger feels like so much. His hands are bigger than yours. And so deliciously clever. It’s not long before you’re babbling for another, crying out softly when he provides. Two fingers curling and rubbing against your slick, sensitive walls and his tongue swirling around your needy clit — it’s so much. Overwhelming and perfect.
“K-Kyle, ‘m gonna…” you keen, shocked by how quickly it’s building.
Then he hums an encouragement and that little extra bit of stimulation sends you hurtling over the edge. You clench around his hand, hips twitching, grinding against his willing mouth through wave after wave. Not even aware of the noises you’re making until they fade off into soft whimpers of overstimulation.
Kyle eases his fingers from you, drops one last kiss to your hip. The lower half of his face is glistening. If you weren’t still somewhere in the stratosphere, you’d be embarrassed. But right now all you can manage is a quiet, needy noise, reaching for him.
He smiles and crawls over you, the warmth of his body soothing your shivery muscles, easing you through aftershocks. You wipe absently at his chin as you exchange lazy, sloppy kisses. Surprised to find that you don’t mind the taste of yourself; not much different than jizz.
“Give me… another second…” you mumble, head falling back as you catch your breath. “I’ll return the favor.”
Against your leg, you can feel him twitch through his jeans. He feels big. Your stomach clenches with want.
“That sounds bloody amazing, don’t get me wrong,” he answers, voice husky in your ear. “But if you’re up for it, I’d like to feel you cumming ‘round my cock.”
You gasp, not sure if you’re scandalized or even more turned on than before. Both?
“Wait, but I already…”
“I know, I was there,” he teases, kissing your temple. “But I wanna see it again. Feel it proper this time.”
You pause, blinking up at him as you trace your fingers along his ribs. “But isn’t that… I dunno, unfair?”
“Fuck no,” he answers. “I’d spend all night just making you cum if you let me.”
You huff and swat at him. “I think you’d kill me.”
“What a way to go, though, eh?” he chuckles, arching his eyebrows.
You groan, but there’s no hiding your grin. He brushes hair back from your face, cups your cheek.
“What do you say, baby? Let me fuck you good and proper.”
You snort, turn to nip his thumb in relation, but chirp, “yes, please!”
#cod#my writing#fanfiction#reader fic#kyle gaz x reader#kyle gaz garrick#poly 141#misters steal your girl#open relationship trope
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Why do you headcanon König as a loser? Not being salty, just curious. Also, what are his most prominent loser traits in your opinion? I'm trying to make him as a loser in my fanfic as well.
He is a loser, not in life because being a mercenary of his rank still pays quite well, and he does have a property and even a nice car, but he is a loser in a more psychological, spiritual sense. He can't hold a girl in his presence for longer than professionally necessary(he tried to start a small talk with a cute barista but stopped when he saw the poor girl itching towards the distress button), he can't flirt even with women who he pays to flirt with him. This guy tried to order an escort once, and the woman literally ran before even getting her money.
So when he finds you, either just as a loser and a wet napkin as him or just too kind for your own good, he is losing his fucking mind. Get ready for this 35+ guy to sit you on his bed and talk to you about Roman Empire. Not even in a meme sense, he just loves what history so much, and he would start from the oldest Persian settlements and their history because you made the mistake of asking him about something from WW2 and he needed to give you context.
One of his biggest loser traits is exactly how whipped he is with you. You could consider your relationship to be kinda, average, and casual, with no serious commitment - he is a soldier, after all, you don't trust him with being faithful on deployment - and he is already choosing rings for you. You got on one date and he already starts to plan the wedding and, honestly, it's really fucking creepy - especially when you ask him to stop behaving like a lovesick puppy, and he just tells you to stop being silly and accept being his already.
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riize when they're jealous
shotaro
is a little oblivious at first- for example: tries to make friends with the guy
then as the conversation drags on and taro realizes this guy is barely acknowledging him,, and is literally only talking to you he gets pretty uncomfortable
you are also getting uncomfortable and shotaro notices so he finds a way to quickly end the conversation (pretending you had somewhere else to be or smth)
he doesn't get too down about if afterwards and definitely doesn't blame you for anything he just tries to make jokes about how attractive you are "people just can't stay away from you! you're like the flower to a bee （⌒▽⌒）”
but honestly, it still irks him a bit. pls make sure to give him at least one kiss and remind him he's ur shining star
eunseok
def not the type to be worried about you around his friends or your male friends.. but random guys actually hitting on you in real.
he would never admit to being jealous, he tries to tell himself he's just annoyed with the guy or like.. worried for your safety which- um ok wtv
that being said ,, when he does get this way he goes completely cold. hard frown, glaring eyes, clenched jaw etc. etc.
he's very confident in your relationship but something about the highly unrealistic possibility that you could be swayed to leave him ruffles his feathers to say the least
i hope no one would be bold enough to try to hit on you WHILE you're with him because he'd immediately get in front of you and confront the guy "who even are you? what do you need to talk to her for?"
sungchan
oh dear lord.... it's not good. like he wont hurt anyone but sometimes wants to. like,,,
ok it depends if you were far away talking to a guy he would immediately come over and wrap his arm around you and goes "who's this." and ur like PLS don’t do anything embarrassing 😳
it’s to the point he does not want to hear about your past relationships (unless it was like a serious conversation) bc it makes his skin crawl thinking about another person touching his girl
he trusts his friends but it will take a bit of convincing to trust your friends. not bc he doesn’t have faith in you he would just get pissed at other people thinking they had a chance
i’m making him sound like a freak but he’s very open and vocal about how he feels and wants to work on it with you - but he’s always gonna be protective like a guard dog
wonbin
he’s like ., quiet possessive (?) he's just like " ur only my baby right?" wants you all to himself, near him as much as possible
jokingly says you can’t watch other groups but is like ..half joking he lowkey doesn’t want you thinking other guys are cooler than him
it really just comes down to the fact that he doesn't want to lose you.
if there was a real situation where someone was like actually flirting with you, he would get soooo sulky. - like comes over to you and puts his hand on your back, smiling at you like everything is fine 🙂( 😐)
but when he hears you say "yes, this is my boyfriend i was telling you about." his chest puffs up and he’s like jumping for joy inside T_T needs extra kisses too afterwards
seunghan
you are his baby and is very clear about it in public . always has his hands on you so it would be insane for someone to hit on you but if he walked away and someone approached u…
hhhhh lowkey gets an attitude … mostly with the other guy like tongue in cheek “is this guy serious…”
honestly kind of confrontational “can i help you? what do you need from my girlfriend?” can be intimidating when he wants to and makes sure people know he is NOT playing around
first makes sure you’re ok and then he’s like “wtf.. do i have to give you an ‘i ♡ my bf’ shirt or smth”
with his and your friends he doesn’t have a problem he trusts you all the way he just gets offended when people don’t get the hint that you’re taken
sohee
surprisingly, gets more jealous than you’d expect like sometimes ur like ???
he really just wants all your attention and if other guys try to take it he’s like . abt to start barking
that being said he trusts you 100% but when you notice his smile is like 10% less bright than usual and you ask what’s wrong he’s like “OHHH nothing -_- i just can’t believe i’m up against the whole city bc you’re so pretty. what am i to do ?”
ur just like 😭my sweet boy !! give him a kiss he’ll be cured and recovers pretty quickly
kind of is one that doesn’t really like you having male friends but he doesn’t want to control you so he’s doing deep breathing exercises if you’re really involved in a conversation with someone that isn’t him.
anton
ohhh sweet sweet anton. honestly ! doesn’t get too jealous
like he gives u your space if you’re talking to another guy but if they start subtly hitting on you he���s like ?
will bring it up to you later when you’re sitting with him like stroking your arm and he’s like “sooooo that guy ..” and ur like oh 🙄that was so annoying. did it upset you? :( and he’s like “um . i mean… well not really it was just weird ..”
will appreciate your reassurance more than he shows you
might be one to be insecure with you around the members just because you would get so close to them he’s like ha…. what if they got even closer … but then he remembers none of you would ever do that then he just hugs you a little tighter
#yipee!#might make some longer posts abt this…#riize#riize scenarios#riize wonbin#riize imagines#riize x reader#riize fluff#shotaro x reader#shotaro#eunseok x reader#eunseok#sungchan x reader#sungchan#wonbin x reader#wonbin#seunghan x reader#seunghan#sohee x reader#sohee#anton x reader#anton#shotaro imagines#eunseok imagines#sungchan imagines#wonbin imagines#seunghan imagines#sohee imagines#anton imagines
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