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sunboki · 6 months

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⎯ PAPER PLANES a Kim Seungmin fiction

🛩️ : Kim Seungmin x gn. reader

TROPE. friends to lovers, neighbors to lovers, fluff fluff fluff galore

WORD COUNT. 1.5k!!

WARNINGS. cursing

AUG'S NOTES. still crazy about this concept💀 … i wrote this in 30 minutes in complete silence.. the demons have possessed me…

SYNOPSIS. Life in the city has never been as interesting as this. More specifically starting the moment your newest neighborhood, Kim Seungmin, moved in next door.

or alternatively :

It was only a matter of time before those paper airplanes turned into something more.

City nights are your greatest escapade and your worst nightmare. When insomnia plagues you awake, it’s easy to turn off all your fans and just listen.

New York isn’t called the city that never sleeps for no reason.

Whether it’s the faint honking of a car or the nearest nightclubs obnoxiously loud stereo, 24 hours a day almost every day of the year this city’s eyes remain open, and in essence, it makes you feel a tad bit better about those sleepless nights.

There’s the buzz of your surroundings, but as for your apartment complex, things are pretty quiet.

Well, you did intentionally choose a very much elderly-occupied residency after all.

Until somebody else showed up, somebody who didn’t explain to you on a morning basis of how they’re deciding on their casket.

And he sings.

Headed back from work up the elevator was when you ran into him for the first time. A smidge taller than yourself, puffy hair hanging over his forehead.

Neither of you talked apart from the courtesy “Which floor are you going to?” followed by an equally courteous “Five”, and you realizing you were both headed to the same place.

Elevators are a dangerous place. Anything could go wrong, technical issues, you end up trapped, weird strangers, and a myriad of unfortunate events waiting to happen. What’s worse? The conversations.

Because if there’s one thing you’ve learned from the decades worth of elevators you’ve been on is that they’re either a place to never stop talking or never talk.

As for this discovered neighbor of yours, you spend a solid thirty seconds deciding the right course of action.

“So where’d you move from?” You pique, watching the numbers atop the door slowly increase.

“South Korea,” He responds, and out of the corner of your eye you notice him glancing at you, hands stuffed in his puffer coat’s pockets.

Mouth opening to speak, you immediately close it, evidently surprised. To think how hellish the flight must’ve been humbled you instantly, not to mention how he carried no accent when conversing.

But before you could ask any more questions the doors open and he wordlessly slips past you, leaving you to silently follow.

“Wait!” Calling out prior to him walking through the door, he stops, turning to you with a confused expression adorning delicate features.

“What’s your name?” You voice another inquiry, hand also fastened onto the doorknob.

He blinks, the action scarily resembling a puppy dog.

“Seungmin. Kim Seungmin.”

Seungmin.

Cute.

“Y/n, nice to meet you.” Nodding politely his way, he returns the gesture, a sudden unwelcoming awkwardness creeping further into your skin the longer you both stand there, staring at each other.

And of course your genius of a mind decides to open its big fat mouth.

“..I guess we’re neighbors, huh.”

No shit sherlock, You internally reprimand, wishing oh so badly to leap out of the nearest window.

Sucking his teeth, Seungmin hums agreeably, and you feel like the stupidest person in the world.

“Yeah well, bye!” Panickedly twisted the knob and racing inside to slam the door behind you, you sink to the ground, clutching your head pathetically.

“Y/n…” You whine, addressing yourself like a lunatic. There’s a heavy sigh, a leaning your head back, thumping against the wooden frame.

“…What the fuck is wrong with you.”

Nonetheless, the night you first heard his voice pitch through gleaming neon signs was one to remember.

Typing manically on your keyboard while a half-empty glass of watered down coffee occupied the space beside you, you squint, scrutinizing that same sentence at least a dozen times before ripping the headphones off your ears and raising up frustratedly.

This essay is definitely earning a rightful spot on your thirteen reasons why list, a close second to your first impression on Seungmin last week.

Stretching your arms above your head, you hear it. An entrancing, melodic tone sifting beneath your cracked window, decorating your bedroom in a decadent assortment of color.

Carefully tiptoeing to pry open the window fully, you crane, cheek pressed against cold glass.

It’s Seungmin. Face tipped to the side, lips halfway parted. You don’t know if he’s focused on something or what, but you know he’s the only thing that matters in this moment.

His vibrato, the way he perfectly slices notes into harmonious rhythm pulls you in like a hummingbird to nectar.

You find yourself aimlessly standing there, rocking back and forth of your heels, savoring the effortlessly sweet relief he fills your exhausted soul with.

Day after day he’d sing, voice never ceasing to calm your senses, as if supernatural, into a lulling drone. No thoughts, just him.

Occasionally it’d be a new tune, one familiar, one not. Over and over and over again you’d routinely wait for him, like a child rushing to see their favorite cartoon.

And as a result, Seungmin became one of your biggest sources of comfort without either of you knowing it.

Today is the day.

Reaching over as far as you can muster with the makeshift paper airplane held tightly, you attempt at reading the wind, trying to decipher the best time to launch this secret weapon of yours.

Well, not really secret (somewhat), and also not a weapon, but you get the picture.

This morning you’d taken tedious measures to ensure your innovative paper airplane note would successfully fly, especially since the note inside was just as innovative.

𝙸 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚒𝚗𝚐. Was what it read, and you thought the compliment was pretty appropriate considering how often you’d admire his mellowed tunes in the eve.

Except, the first one was a fail, then the second one, and a third, and by the forth airplane you had paper-cuts all over your hands and a temper teetering on the brink of defeat.

Hey, at least three people today (almost four) would get a “I like your singing” note today.

Whoosh! Your note flies, and just when you begin to lose hope does it switch trajectories, successfully hitting his balcony’s screen door.

To say you shouted was an understatement. Hell, the entirety of New York likely heard your chanting, yelling, and the entourage of oddly proud noises in between.

Noises of which were quickly muted upon said screen door opening, to where you frantically drop down, peering between the chair’s legs to observe his reaction.

Seungmin glances around repeatedly, curiously, prior to peeling back paper folds.

You inhale sharply.

His eyes graze over the sentence, investigating his surroundings again.

No reaction.

You initially deflate, grumbling to yourself defeatedly.

Until a tiny sliver of hope peeks through dark curtains.

Seungmin smiles.

He covers his mouth (an action you don’t understand but start to considering how dazzlingly bright it is), and laughs. A soft laugh that has his shoulders shaking, corner of his eyes wrinkling into charming crescent moons.

You swear there’s a ring of sparkling light outlining him, like something out of a K-Drama.

His smile could (and should) win an award, you’re convinced.

And just like that he disappears back into his apartment, and you chant a nonstop “Oh my god!” a good thirty-six times, unable to contain the feather-light feeling spreading from your fingertips to the very tip of your toes.

Cute. Kim Seungmin was so, so cute.

From the sheepish grins he gives you each time he’s seen you since, you have a hunch he knows it was you who sent the note, but you choose to act oblivious.

Oblivious, before you received a note of your own.

Of course, Kim Seungmin’s paper airplane is perfect, aerodynamic and probably arrived on the first throw unlike your consecutive sacrifices.

Slowly shuffling open the response, you peek through hesitant fingers, slapping a hand over your gaping mouth upon witnessing his obviously perfect handwriting.

𝚃𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚔 𝚢𝚘𝚞 :) , It reads. Something so mundane and proper there’s no reason you should be losing your mind, but you are, and the rattling of your heartbeat serves the best explanation.

You make sure to hang the note up afterward, right above your laptop.

So over the next few days, the both of you become more daring, more adventurous. Two paper airplanes turn into four, four to eight, eight to eleven. By now there’s not enough room to hang all of them up.

Meaningless conversations. Asking about dinner plans, what you’re currently doing, what your favorite hobbies are, favorite songs. But yet, they mean so much to you.

Your own, childish way of communicating even though the mature, adult reply would be to knock on his door.

Although, he seems to love it as much as you do.

𝙰𝚛𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚋𝚞𝚜𝚢 𝚝𝚘𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝? Is scribbled on the airplane he’d sent a few minutes ago.

𝙽𝚘, 𝚠𝚑𝚢? You write quickly onto one, hands nimbly constructing the shape after sending so many. Routine.

Returning to stirring the pot of boiling water in front of you, a familiar tap alerts you, padding over to grasp his letter.

Strangely, a part of you grows more and more excited, plopping down into your chair to gradually take apart his craftsmanship.

Your legs move before you can even register your own feelings, scrambling outside.

Seungmin’s there, breathtaking smile as brilliant as ever despite such dim lighting.

There’s no need to admit you’ve been sending them now. Especially not from the way he gazed at you, the words inscribed on that paper airplane.

𝙲𝚊𝚗 𝙸 𝚝𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚘𝚗 𝚊 𝚍𝚊𝚝𝚎 𝚝𝚘𝚗𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝?

He bites back an even bigger grin, cheeks dusting rosy pink from the cold air.

Yes.

Absolutely yes.

sunboki, may 2022 ©

787 notes · View notes

tongue-like-a-razor · 1 year

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Faking It | Part VIII

Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x F!Reader

A/N: AHHH WE ARE AT THE GRAND FINALE!!! Y'all, I'm so sorry it took a galactic year but I hope you're still with me and that you enjoy this final episode of trope city. Thank you so much for all the support <3

Summary: Fake dating your friend, Bradley Bradshaw - what could possibly go wrong? Your sister is getting married and you need a date. You enlist Bradley's help and the rest is history.

CW: brief allusion to self-harm, swearing, making out, ANGST GALORE, fluff (not in any particular order)

Start from the beginning: Part I

Masterlist

“Are you cold?” Steven goes to take off his jacket.

“I’m fine,” you say impatiently. “Just get on with it, will you?”

Steven shrugs his jacket back on while you wrap your arms around yourself, holding in a shiver. The morning is much cooler than you expected it to be and there’s a white mist hanging over the surface of the placid water. Steven watches you pretend to be comfortable in your sundress under the moody skies. You’ve been pretending a lot lately.

“Today, Steven,” you say through gritted teeth because you’re clenching them to avoid them chattering.

He lets out a resolute sigh, looking down at the ground. He seems anxious. “Your boyfriend,” he says with a grimace, peering up at you briefly before reverting his gaze to the dock underfoot. “How well do you know him?”

You furrow your brows. “Excuse me?”

Steven purses his lips, kicking a stray pebble into the water. It makes a dull plopping sound before disappearing into the lake. “I suspected something was off the night of the bachelor party.”

“Not again.” You sigh irritably.

“He had very little to say about you,” he states. “Mostly just random trivia. Said you don’t like chocolate.”

You raise your eyebrows calmly without responding.

“When the guys asked how you got together, he clammed up. It was weird.”

You’re starting to regret your decision to talk to him. And you’re certainly no longer feeling sorry for him. “Do you have a point?”

Steven nods. “Then I went to see you. And you didn’t deny that this fling with your little aviator wasn’t all that serious.”

You find it ironic that Steven refers to Bradley as little considering Bradley is half a head taller than him, but you let it slide. “Your five minutes are almost up,” you respond coldly.

Steven watches you soberly, but something about the quirk of his eyebrow makes you think he might be enjoying himself. “He has a girlfriend,” he says.

You stare at him mutely, waiting for the air to return to your lungs. Slowly, everything inside of you begins to slide out of place, as if you’ve forgotten how to hold it all together. “What the fuck are you talking about?” you whisper. Meanwhile, every single moment you’ve ever experienced with Bradley Bradshaw filters through your mind as you desperately try to pick out the details that might have, in hindsight, served as clues. The hesitation to participate in your scheme; the reluctance to sleep in your bed; the aggravating lack of communication – isolated, these events might have been meaningless but, put together, they are questionable at the very least.

“Wasn’t difficult to figure out,” Steven continues, unaware that your brain is scrambling to put all the pieces together. “He’s all over her Instagram.”

“He doesn’t have an Instagram –”

“He’s not tagged, but it’s him alright. Some of your other pilot friends are also there, so…” Steven shrugs smugly, as if he’s performed a feat and is expecting commendation. When you don’t say anything, he decides to rub salt in the wound. “You know whose Instagram he’s not on?” he asks proudly. “Yours.”

You don’t bother looking up at him again. The bobbing dock starts to augment your vertigo and the gentle sway of your body in the breeze makes you feel strangely detached. You’re not thinking about Steven’s annoying tone, or his smug face, or even the gentle nudge he’s giving you to recapture your attention; you’re devising a plan of action for the next five hours, because that’s how long you will need to coexist with Bradley Bradshaw. After that, you will never have to deal with him again.

…

You make your way across the lawn unhurriedly, not keen on spending brunch pretending to still be enamored with your fake boyfriend. The escalating number of deceptions in what was originally a straightforward plot is making your head spin.

You see him leaning over the railing of the terrace, a beer in his hand. He’s staring out into the distance with a bit of a squint despite the dreary day. You hate how good he looks in his jeans and light, button-up shirt, the sleeves of which are rolled up to his elbows; you hate the languid movement of his arm as he takes a sip of his drink; the slow, graceful fashion with which he rests it back over the rail; the relaxed bend in his wrist. Everything about him suddenly seems despicable.

When he sees you, he gives you a smirk – the kind that sets your insides ablaze despite your growing resentment – and pushes off the railing to start in your direction. You let out a wavering sigh, trying to extinguish whatever lingering feelings you may have. You’ve resolved to omit the true purpose of Steven’s visit; you can’t imagine a worse time and place to air your dirty laundry than at your sister’s wedding brunch with an audience of your closest family members. So, you smile back at him as he skips down the steps – you’ve become quite proficient at pretending; what’s another few hours of faking it?

Bradley’s pace quickens as he cuts across the yard until he’s nearly running and, when he arrives, he wraps his arms around you, pulling you into an embrace. He leans down to kiss you, but you inadvertently turn away and he ends up pecking your cheek. Mistake number one.

You give him another tense smile, taking a step back because his hands are much too casually exploring your rigid body. Mistake number two.

“So,” you say, nearly taking a chunk out of the inside of your cheek as you bite into it forcefully. “Cheat on anybody lately?” you ask tersely. Mistake number –

“Excuse me?” he says, taken aback.

So much for pretending. You watch him coldly as his expression transforms but, as it turns out, you have nothing else to add.

“What did he say to you?” Bradley asks, eyes darkening under his converging eyebrows.

You let out a derisive laugh.

“What did he say?” he repeats.

You glare at him. “You know exactly what he said.”

Bradley bristles. “Are you fucking serious right now?”

You watch him impassively, as if his betrayal has had zero effect on you. “Are you fucking serious, Bradley?”

Bradley’s offended expression turns to hurt as his eyes sweep over your features. “You’re not even going to let me explain?” he asks in a grating whisper.

You scoff, his words confirming that there is, in fact, something to explain. “Does she know you’re here?”

Bradley shifts his jaw, his eyes narrowing. He studies you quietly for a few moments.

“What baffles me,” you say. “Is how easy it’s been for you to just lie about it.”

“Wasn’t that the whole point of this?” he asks coolly.

You chuckle although his words sting. “You’re right. This was all an act and I’m just the idiot who fell for it.”

Bradley eyes you contemptuously but says nothing.

“You almost slept with me,” you whisper, your lips trembling as you concentrate on keeping your voice steady. “Don’t tell me that that was your objective this whole time.”

Bradley’s eyebrows crease as he tries to follow your line of reasoning. “You think I agreed to this ridiculous stunt just so I could possibly have an opportunity to fuck you?” he hisses. “Why would anyone put that much effort into one – not even guaranteed – fuck?”

You watch him angrily although he does make a valid point. “Why are you here, then?” you ask, trying desperately to keep your volume down. “You have a girlfriend!”

“First of all,” Bradley says stonily. “Had.”

“When?”

He lets out a sigh.

You shake your head at him with a disdainful smile and raise your eyebrows expectantly. “Yesterday? Last week?”

“I broke up with her after you asked me to come here.”

“Why?” You shrug indifferently as though you really couldn’t care less.

“You begged me to come.”

“I didn’t know you were seeing someone!” you bite back.

Bradley lifts his eyes to nod politely at your grandparents as they pass the two of you toward the stairs leading up to the terrace. Then he hooks his arm through yours and starts dragging you away from the venue toward the docks by the lake. You struggle against his grip, but he doesn’t let go until you’re far enough away from the crowd to be out of earshot. “So what?” he rounds on you in a low voice.

You stare at him in disbelief. “You didn’t tell me.”

“It didn’t come up.”

You scoff incredulously.

“You didn’t tell me about Steven.”

“That’s not the same thing. Steven and I haven’t been together in months.”

“This wasn’t supposed to be anything, Y/N,” he says roughly. “It was all fake. Why would I even think to tell you about her?”

You look down at his brown dress shoes as they sink into the red clay of the bank, feeling the unmistakable pressure of tears as your eyes begin to well up. “It was all fake, wasn’t it?” you mutter.

“No, that’s not” – the brown dress shoes take a step forward – “you know that’s not what I meant.”

“How long have you been with her?” you ask, cutting him off.

“What does that matter?” he says wearily.

“It matters,” you respond.

Bradley sighs and looks out at the lake over your shoulder. “Six months.”

You close your eyes and take a breath. “That’s a long time.”

He nods, sucking his cheeks in as his jaw shifts forward. He’s studying your face thoughtfully. “Your turn,” he says.

“What?”

He licks his lips. “How much of it was fake?”

You scoff again, shaking your head. “I’m not doing this.”

“So, it’s fine putting me on the spot, but you can’t answer a simple question?” he says irritably.

“I put you on the spot because you lied.”

Bradley watches you coldly. “When did it stop being fake, Y/N?”

“I don’t know!” you shout in frustration. “When did it stop being fake for you?”

Bradley stares at you blankly. He runs a hand over his face, looking down. He furrows his eyebrows before glancing back up at you with a bewildered expression, as though he can’t believe you’ve just posed exactly the same question he had asked you. “It was never fake for me,” he says hoarsely.

You stare at him as a flurry of emotions does a nauseating dance in the pit of your stomach. His answer has taken you by surprise and you can’t think of anything appropriate to say in return.

When you don’t respond, he adds, “You can’t possibly not already know that.”

You slowly shake your head, wanting more than anything to believe what he says. “How would I know?”

Bradley watches you in amazement, exhaling with a small laugh as he takes a couple steps toward you. He lifts his hand and places it tenderly on your cheek. “Two months ago,” he says. “I walk into the Hard Deck, just looking for a cold beer and a night off. And the first thing I see is you behind the bar.”

You feel yourself melting right into the palm of his hand, lulled by the smooth rasp of his voice.

“You’re new,” he says, and then chuckles. “You’re definitely new because you can’t tell an ale from a lager.”

You wrinkle your eyebrows. “A what from a what?”

Bradley grins briefly before continuing. “You’re fucking stunning,” he says in a throaty whisper. You feel his face drift closer to yours just as the wind picks up. He brings his other hand up to tuck your hair behind your ear. “And I come up to the bar and you haven’t even said a word to me yet, all you do is look up with these wild, frantic, most beautiful eyes I’ve ever seen, as you’re desperately trying to figure out the exact ratio of gin to tonic in somebody else’s drink.” You bite your lip sheepishly, remembering your first night working the bar. Bradley smiles at the memory. “You’re meticulously measuring out the two ingredients – which tells me, right off the bat, that you’re an extremely conscientious person – and, after you’re done, you look me right in the eye and say, ‘You look thirsty.’”

You laugh through your tears. “I did not say that.”

Bradley chuckles. “You did. And I was,” he adds.

You snort at the insinuation but then Bradley’s hand begins to trail down your neck, disrupting your train of thought. His touch is disarming and you try your best not to sink into him despite every impulse to just give in. The truth is, there’s nothing he can say that will change the fact that he played both you and his ex. So, you bring your hand up and wrap it around his wrist, pulling it away from where his fingers are resting over your heart. “Doesn’t matter,” you say quietly. “None of it matters anymore.”

“How could you say that?” he asks, his breathing ragged.

You sigh mechanically, expertly keeping your emotions in check. “This changes everything,” you say. “I feel like I don’t know you, Bradley. I mean, I don’t know you.”

Bradley shakes his head. “That’s not true.”

You close your eyes as if not looking at him might make it easier. “You need to leave,” you whisper.

“Look at me,” he pleads.

You open your eyes and focus your gaze on the greenest grass you’ve ever seen. Only, today, it’s grey. Must be the weather.

“Y/N,” Bradley urges, his voice cracking in his desperation. “Look at me. Please.”

“No!” The force of your response surprises even you. “You have to go,” you say resolutely.

But as you start to walk away, you hear him calling out to you. “You owe me!”

You turn around in confusion. “What?” you say under your breath.

“You heard me,” he says, marching toward you with purpose. “You owe me. Anything I want, remember?”

You stare at him incredulously. “You can’t possibly –”

“I know what I want,” he says, taking several final strides toward you before clutching your hands and holding them in between his chest and yours. “I want you – I need you – to hear me out.”

You wince as his face nears yours. “That’s not fair,” you whisper.

“Please don’t do this,” he mutters. “Please don’t. I – I’m” – his face contorts uncomfortably as he searches for the right words – “I messed up,” he says. “I’m sorry. Please.” He rests his forehead on yours. “Please forgive me.”

The irony of suffering through a real breakup with your fake boyfriend is not lost on you. It’s absurdly painful considering you’ve only realized you had feelings for this man mere days ago. But it’s not just Bradley’s towering build; not just his sculpted arms and chiselled chest that give you pause. It’s every little thing he’s ever said and done. It’s the pepper spray, the heels, the pillow wall; it’s the dancing, the kiss; it’s the way he looks at you. It’s Bradley.

You taste the salt of your own tears as they slip into your parted mouth. You want to kiss him so badly, just a little, just for a moment, just one last time. And as his lips hover hesitantly over yours you realize why. It’s simple, really. You’re in love with Bradley Bradshaw. How reckless of you. How wildly inconvenient.

…

You wipe at the spotless counter aggressively as your mind wanders once again to that fateful day three weeks ago when you did not, in fact, get to kiss Bradley Bradshaw just one last time. Not even for a moment, not even a little bit.

“It’s clean, I think,” you hear a voice at the other end of the bar. You glance up to see Jake Seresin slide out a barstool and take a seat at the counter.

“Didn’t hear you come in,” you respond, glancing at the clock. It’s barely eleven and the place is deserted. You walk toward him reluctantly, having encountered neither Bradley nor any of his friends since the day of the brunch. “Lost another bet, Seresin?” you ask, eyeing the wide brim of his tan cowboy hat.

He smirks, lifting the hat off his head and setting it down on the bar. “Funny.”

You toss your towel under the bar and place your hands on the counter. “What can I get you?”

“Oh, I’m not here to drink,” he says.

You sigh quietly, reaching for your towel again. The truth is, you haven’t gone a single day without thinking about what could have been if you hadn’t stopped the kiss. If you hadn’t pushed Bradley away. If Bradley hadn’t hurled Steven into the lake.

You glance up at Jake as he fiddles with something in his hands. He eyes you pointedly. “I think you know why I’m here,” he says.

…

“Why are you still here?”

The booming voice of your ex-boyfriend rouses you, effectively disrupting the moment you’re having with Bradley. You withdraw from the embrace, separating your hands from his as you step away.

Bradley is shaking his head. “Don’t listen to him,” he begs.

You blink up at him with a sniffle and wipe your eyes. “He’s not the problem,” you say.

Bradley juts out his jaw as Steven steps into his field of vision. “I asked you a question,” Steven says forcefully.

Bradley watches him coldly. “Don’t start with me, Steven,” he says quietly.

“You’re not welcome here anymore,” Steven continues, bringing his shoulders back as he tries to tower over Bradley.

“Steven, stop” – you try to intervene, but Bradley cuts you off.

“I said,” Bradley hisses as he straightens his back to reciprocate the gesture. “Don’t start with me.”

Steven chuckles. “What are you going to do? Hit me?”

Bradley turns away. “You’re not worth it.”

Just when you start to think that the matter will work itself out peacefully, however, Steven shoves Bradley in the back, sending him stumbling slightly downhill. Bradley regains his footing just as Steven comes after him and blocks his subsequent attack, pushing him away. “I’m not fighting you!” Bradley roars.

“Steven, stop it!” you shout, running after them as Steven continues trying to provoke Bradley.

“What’s the matter?” Steven asks nastily. “Did I blow your cover, hotshot?”

Bradley narrows his eyes and his hands curl instinctively into fists. He looks like he’s about to snap. “Bradley!” you scream.

…

“Bradley,” you say calmly, meeting Jake’s gaze.

Jake nods. “I’m going to have to be honest,” he says. “Living with him has become unbearable. And, well, we blame you.”

You roll your eyes. “That’s not my problem.” You drop the dishtowel onto the counter and start wiping anew.

Jake’s hand lands over the cloth and he yanks it out of your grasp. “Listen here,” he says. “I don’t know how he fucked this up because he won’t say a goddamn word about it. But you’re gonna tell me what happened because I’m tired of this mess y’all made.”

“I didn’t do anything,” you say.

“I highly doubt that,” Jake says with an insincere smile. “The guy’s fucking in love with you, there’s no way he left you of his own accord.”

“The guy had a girlfriend of six months he didn’t think to tell me about,” you lash out at Jake, wiping the grin right off his face. “He’d been coming to the Hard Deck almost daily for two whole months without even mentioning her existence. And then he had the audacity to tell me he liked me from the moment we met? Either he was the shittiest boyfriend ever or he wasn’t as into me as he claims to have been. In any case, he’s a liar.”

…

“I didn’t lie about anything,” Bradley says steadily, watching Steven advance toward him once more. “There was no cover to blow.”

“Please!” Steven cackles. “The two of you fabricated an entire relationship!”

You close your eyes, much too tired to pretend any longer. If Steven is hellbent on divulging this particular secret, you aren’t going to be the one to stop him.

Bradley glares at Steven. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.” He turns to look at you somberly. “I love you! I have been in love with you since day one,” he says. “I don’t even remember what not loving you feels like.”

“But you had a girlfriend,” you say agonizingly.

He nods, his eyes filling with tears. “Yeah,” he admits. “I did.”

…

“He’s not a liar, he’s a victim of circumstance,” Jake reasons.

You blink at him skeptically. “Is the circumstance that he’s an asshole?”

Jake snorts. “Maybe I will have a drink,” he says, scrunching up his nose.

You sigh and reach for a tumbler. You set it down on the polished counter and, giving Jake a pointed look, reach to grab a second one. He chuckles as you pour the whiskey.

“Neat,” he comments. “Just the way I like it.”

You sigh and down the glass with a straight face. “Why didn’t he just end things with her sooner?”

Jake sets his drink down after taking a swig. He narrows his eyes. “Wait, he didn’t tell you?”

…

“Tell him, Y/N,” Steven says forcefully. “Tell him to get the fuck out of here before I beat the shit out of him.”

“Steven, stop it!” you cry. You turn to Bradley with a frown. “You should go,” you say quietly.

Bradley shakes his head. “I’m not leaving.”

“You heard her!” Steven yells, lunging forward to give Bradley yet another push.

But Bradley completely ignores the attack. He continues watching you miserably as though he hasn’t just been unceremoniously displaced by an angry meathead. “You don’t want me to go,” he pleads with you.

You drop your head, closing your eyes. “I do,” you lie.

“It doesn’t matter what she wants,” Steven steps in between the two of you obnoxiously.

“Steven, for fuck’s sake, just leave!” you scream.

Steven rounds on you aggressively. “I’m trying to help you, you ungrateful cunt!”

But before you can respond with a few choice words of your own, Steven is yanked from the spot and launched into the lake like a frisbee. You gasp as he hits the water while Bradley just folds his arms and watches the ripples, waiting to see if Steven can swim.

…

“He tried breaking up with her,” Jake says, watching you cautiously as though he’s unsure whether he should be sharing this information with you.

You furrow your eyebrows. “When?”

Jake sighs and adjusts his posture, getting more comfortable in his seat. “They were on the rocks way before you came into the picture,” Jake says. “He’d tried breaking up with her several times actually, including the night he met you.”

“What do you mean ‘tried’?”

Jake narrows his eyes. “Why didn’t he tell you this?”

“Tell me what?”

…

“Are you happy now?” you yell over the lapping of the water.

Bradley turns to look at you wearily. “Less annoyed,” he says stoically.

“Well, now that we’ve managed to completely ruin my sister’s brunch,” you say, glancing up at the crowd of spectators gathered on the edge of the patio, “you’re free to go.”

You hear some sputtering near the dock as Steven tries to drag himself out of the water. Bradley nods, sliding his hands into his pockets. “I would’ve told you about her,” he says. “I would’ve told you everything.”

…

“She wouldn’t let him break up with her,” Jake says, carefully studying your reaction.

“What do you mean ‘wouldn’t let him’?” you ask.

“Pour another round,” Jake says.

You sigh sharply. “Just spill it, Seresin,” you grumble impatiently, grabbing the bottle of whiskey.

“She threatened to hurt herself.”

You freeze mid-pour and look up at him in shock.

“That’s enough for me, thanks,” he says, reaching for the bottle still tipped in your hand.

“I’ll have it then,” you say, sliding the full glass of whiskey toward yourself. Silently, you lift it to your lips and take a giant gulp.

“Easy,” Jake says with a cringe, pulling the tumbler out of your hand.

“So,” you breathe, staring blankly at the bar. “He was stuck.”

“He was stuck,” Jake confirms.

…

“I’m stuck!” Steven calls from the end of the dock.

You huff in frustration and give Bradley one last menacing look. “Just go already, will you?” you say tiredly, heading out onto the dock to help Steven out of the water. By the time Steven is on land and you turn around, Bradley is gone.

You glance over at the terrace where the crowd has started to disperse while Steven wrings out his clothes. You consider for a moment running after Bradley; catching him before he packs to leave. But then you feel Steven’s cold hands snaking around your midriff and you squirm.

“What are you doing?” you yelp, jerking away.

“Baby, just admit that you want me back,” he says lazily. “I just saved you from that asswipe. Don’t be a bitch now.”

You turn around in outrage and, just as Steven flashes his phoney grin, you push him back into the lake.

…

“So, how was he finally able to do it?” you ask, plopping a couple of ice cubes into your drink.

“He got lucky,” Jake replies. “He caught her cheating.”

You scoff. “Lucky.”

Jake shrugs. “Well, under the circumstances. He just wanted out.”

You stare at the ice melting in your whiskey. “I can’t believe he didn’t tell me.”

“Did you give him a chance?” Jake asks, gulping down the rest of his drink and rising from his seat.

You look up at him guiltily.

Jake clears his throat and places several bills on the bar. He taps on the counter a couple of times with his palm and then says, “He’s distracted in the air, Y/N. I’m worried about him.”

It makes you sick to think of Bradley unfocused in the cockpit, and you’re repulsed that it’s never occurred to you before, considering how often you daydream about the events of that unfortunate weekend. Of course, he’s been thinking about it. Of course, it’s been distracting him. You close your eyes and lower your head.

“Just talk to him, will ya?” Jake says.

You swallow uneasily, wondering what the fuck you could possibly say to Bradley after having completely blown him off, but you nod anyway. The least you could do is apologize.

After Jake leaves, you notice a folded piece of paper together with the bills he’s left behind. You pick it up to examine it. It’s your list – the one you’d given Bradley so that he could learn to be a more convincing fake boyfriend. You unfold it to find that he’s added his own notes to accompany yours. Things like, ‘this is absurd and you know it’ in response to ‘I don’t like chocolates but I love chocolate cake’ and ‘sounds like somebody else I know’ in response to ‘steer clear of Aunt Barb – she’s very pushy’.

You smile grimly, realizing how badly you’ve fucked up.

…

The next morning, you get permission from Penny’s boyfriend, Maverick, to visit the hangar while the squad trains. You’re sitting at one of the desks, listening to the boom of military aircraft as you nervously twiddle your thumbs in your lap. When you hear the unmistakable yelps of excited pilots just outside the hangar, you let out an anxious sigh and stand up.

As you’re rising from your seat, you see Bradley amidst the group of cheerful aviators, smiling and nodding as one of them claps him on the back. When he notices you, however, his smile falters and he slows to a halt, staring at you in disbelief. He’s got his helmet tucked under his arm and a chute bag slung over his shoulder and you realize that you’ve never seen him in his flight suit and that perhaps, if you had, you’d have fallen for him much sooner.

The other aviators look on as he starts removing his gear while walking toward you. The expression on his face is so intense that your already galloping heart feels like it might spring right out of your body. He sets his helmet down on a desk and approaches you slowly, his dark eyes searching yours carefully.

You gulp uneasily when he nears; the relief of having him stand right before you is something you hadn’t expected. Even given the currently ambiguous status of your relationship, being close to him feels right.

“Uh,” you utter. Good strong start. You close your eyes and try again. “Umm.” You shake your head and blink up at him.

Bradley lifts his eyebrows sympathetically but doesn’t say anything.

“Can I talk to you?” you blurt out breathlessly.

Bradley drops his gaze and your heart sinks. He hates you, obviously, and you’re an idiot for coming. But a moment later, he looks up from under his winkled brows and nods.

He places a couple of fingers on your arm and, as you try to suppress a shudder at the subtle contact, he nudges you softly, leading you toward the back of the hangar where you could have a private conversation behind a couple of parked jets undergoing maintenance.

Once you’re alone, you find it hard to look him in the eye. Bradley’s hand drops away from where he’s holding your elbow, but his fingertips trail down your arm and catch briefly on your fingers before he lets go.

“Bradley,” you say quietly. “I don’t even know where to start,” you admit.

Bradley moves closer, his head so low that you can feel his breath on your cheek. The torment of being this close and not touching him is probably exactly what you deserve, so you decide to suffer through it in silence. Until, that is, he brings a hand up, lifting your chin with a couple of fingers. His eyes glance over your face before meeting your gaze. “Let’s just start over,” he says.

You look at him in wonder as his hand glides up your arm. “How?” you whisper. “I’m already in love with you.”

For a moment, Bradley is completely still, watching you intently. The look of sheer want on his face absolutely paralyzes you because the concept of mutual desire where Bradley is concerned is something you’re still struggling to accept. You blink at him mutely, forgetting altogether that you came here to apologize, not ogle him in his flight suit and mentally undress him without a moment’s respite.

Bradley lowers his face, furrowing his eyebrows as he glances down at your lips. You notice the tightening grip on your arm as his breathing grows heavy; the slight incline of his head as his other hand drifts weightlessly up the back of your neck.

He makes you weak and he muddles your thoughts and how could you possibly be expected to remember something as superfluous as an apology when his eyes are begging you to just kiss him already? You let out a breathy whine, twisting your hands into the material of his flight suit and pulling yourself into him until your lips meet his.

Bradley exhales sharply, bringing his hands up to your face as he steps forward. You let him steer you into the wall in behind, clinging onto his wrists as he cups your cheeks. His tongue pushes into your mouth as his hands drop down to your waist and slip underneath your tank top, squeezing your flesh.

You melt into his touch; you want his hands all over you, clutching you, catching you, holding you. A soft moan travels from your mouth into his as his fingers dig into your body, and he presses you into the wall with a shaky sigh.

“Bradley,” you murmur as he grasps your ribcage.

“Baby,” he breathes, his thumbs gently stroking the band of your bra. His ‘baby’ is so soft, so different than Steven’s, it’s like an entirely new word. And you don’t want anybody other than Bradley to ever call you ‘baby’ again.

“Bradley, I’m so sorry,” you whisper. “I’m sorry that I wouldn’t listen to your side of the story.”

“Baby,” he mutters again. He lifts his eyes to look at you achingly. “I’m so fucking in love with you.” He takes your hands and brings them to his lips, holding them against his mouth. “I don’t care about anything else.”

You smile at him, grateful that he isn’t holding a grudge. “Kiss me again,” you say, pulling on the collar of his flight suit.

Bradley grins, towering over you as he brings his arms above your head and around your back. He kisses you gently this time, like he’s finally confident that you won’t vanish the moment he lets go. It’s warm and sensuous and lingering, it’s his lips pausing to appreciate every taste and every breath and every texture. It’s the rhythm of his tongue, excruciatingly slow, searching for ways to make you moan.

He pulls you closer, tighter; holds you firmer. You sigh into his mouth, you whine for more, you claw into the fabric of his suit. He reciprocates your urgency, driving you back into the wall with force and pressing his mouth hungrily to yours. You gasp, throwing your head back as his messy kisses trail down your neck, as his hands grope every part of you with fervor until you’re almost too weak to stand.

“Y/N,” he pants into your neck. “If we don’t relocate in the next few minutes, I’m going to end up being dishonorably discharged for indecent exposure.”

You giggle as he kisses you repeatedly along your collarbone. You would like nothing more than to relocate so that the two of you can be indecent together. “It’ll have to wait,” you say, stroking his hair as he growls in response.

“I’m not waiting any longer,” he mutters into your neck.

You laugh and shake you head.

“Come home with me. I just need a minute to grab my things.” He pulls insistently on your waist.

“I’ve got work,” you say mournfully. “My shift starts in half an hour.”

Bradley looks at you in alarm, as though the prospect of spending the next several hours apart is unacceptable. “Take the day off.”

“I can’t do that.”

“Sure, you can. Tell Penny you’re feeling sick.”

“I’m not feeling sick,” you respond disapprovingly.

He squints his eyes at you with a mischievous smirk. “Fake it.”

Tag List:

The rest of the tag list is in the comments! Might take me a little while to tag everyone and, if I miss you, I'm sorry!

Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed the ride!

Muah!

@lonelywitchv2

@fanboyluvr

@marrianena

@anotherr-fine-mess

@mrs-obrien

@living-in-my-imagination88

@kindablackenedsuperhero

@whitewolfsbitch

@beebslebobs

@gretagerwigsmuse

@mak-32

@strangunddurm

@desert-fern

@maverick-wingman

@jamielovesbucky

@n3ssm0nique

@misshoneypaper

@roosterscockpit

@jakexfmc

@wintercap89

@gracielou0518

@averyhotchner

@bxwitched

@yeetzel

@xoxabs88xox

@cynisarmy

@kwanimations

@onlygetaway

@hope-love-equality2

@shanimallina87

@ijustwantedplums

@oliviah-25

@gayforsteve

@gingerbreadandpaper

@vemonbby

@sebastianstansimp

@alexxavicry

@spn-marvel-nerd

@army24--7

@emmy626

@criminalyetminimal

@candid-confetti

@avoirlecoupdefoudre

@thefandomimagines

@moony-artemis

@my-secret-life-1

@roostereads

@currentlybradshaw

@whisperofsong

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abibliophobiaa · 11 months

Text

talking in your sleep

- eddie munson x afab!reader; 80s summer camp slasher au.

There are rumors that Hawkins is cursed. That there’s a gateway to hell in the town’s epicenter—paved by the blood of innocents. That there’s a whole world roaming beneath, teeming with monsters who have gaping maws full of endless rows of teeth that walk on twos and fours, screeching bats, and swirling shadow beasts.

But they’re rumors all the same. Hushes in hallways, within the four walls of homes, by conspiracy theorists trying to strike up their next controversial story. Stories told around campfires to wide eyed children, fear struck grave and true behind their gazes, or by those wishing to warn others to stay away, to reconsider coming—to turn back while they still have time.

Those same rumors fueled by the terrible murder of the Creel family, a haunting story of a girl who disappeared and was never found again, the impossibility of the zombie boy who was gone from this world one day and alive the next, the devastating fire that burned down the Starcourt Mall and took the lives of many.

Tragedies. All of them. Twisted to fit a narrative. Because Hawkins is safe. Inconspicuous. Boring. Nothing strange happens there.

Nothing, that is, until the summer of 1986.

…Welcome to Camp Firefly.

🏕️🛶

warnings: obviously dark in tone, so please understand that before entering (although chapter one is light and fluffy); thriller vibes; character death; violence; gore; blood; depictions of murder, though limited in description — i would say on par with what we see in the actual show; possession; alcohol and recreational marijuana use; horror tropes galore; pov changes; smut; additional tags to be added; 18+ minors dni.

additionally—while this is technically an au, the upside down does exist here. the original core st gang has experienced the events of season 1-3, but in a different capacity that will become clear through the narrative. also a loose loose loose adaptation of s4 with this slasher flair.

🏕️🛶

playlist || ao3 || a sketch by my dear friend

🏕️🛶

Chapter List:

one: burnin’ for you

two: obsession (tba)

three: running up that hill (tba)

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #80s slasher au #eddie munson x afab!reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson smut #lunaloveseddie

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fairyhaos · 11 months

Text

✰ seventeen as boyfriends: junhui edition

event taglist (send ask to be added): @rubywonu @cinnamoroxie @belladaises @wheeboo @minhui896 @slytherinshua @kokoiinuts @jun-of-love @dandycharmer @sweet-like-caramel @hannyoontify @doesthismeannothingtoyou

pairing: junhui x gn!reader

genre: fluff, headcanon, mini scenario

word count: 535

warnings: none

notes: junhui edn. for the 500 event

he’s like. the epitome of the childhood friends to lovers trope

you’ll never know a time where you didn’t love him, and he’ll never know a time where he didn’t love you

the cutest, most adorable, goofiest boyfriend ever!! like having a bestie AND a boyfriend all in one go and it’s the best thing in the world

++ telepathic communication galore. all you have to do is look at him and he’ll know everything that you’re thinking and you’ll know everything he’s thinking. it’s what happens when you know him for years but it’s also because he’s just so so attentive to everything about you and he knows you so well

so clingy. makes fake wailing noises if you let go of his hand for One Second to go get something. minghao challenged him to go five minutes without touching or looking at you while being in the same room and he failed in three seconds.

expect unexpected but also cliche kisses when dating this man omg

kisses under the mistletoe, kisses as fireworks explode around you, BUT ALSO kisses where he just grabs your face and places them on your lips out of nowhere. kisses where he’s fixing your hair and then pecks your nose quickly, shyly <3

he’s the unintentionally heart-fluttering boyfriend, where he thinks he’s just being a Good Person but it makes your heart warm in your chest because he’s just so sweet to you, always.

“Junhui! Incoming!”

Stepping through the front door, Junhui looks up at your shout, and has the laughter knocked out of him as you launch yourself into his arms, making him stagger back a little at the force of your hug.

“Someone’s excited to see me, hm?” he teases, and you bury your head into his shoulder.

“Of course, you’ve been out the whole day,” you say. “Missed you.”

You say it so naturally, so easily, as if it’s as simple as that, and he smiles at you and thinks that it really is.

“Aw, you missed me!” he hugs you tighter, and you’re laughing as he rocks you from side to side, pretending to be absolutely overcome with emotion as he lets out fake sobs. "My lovely Y/N missed me!"

He plants wet, exaggerated kisses all over your cheek and you yelp and try to push him away, wriggling out of his arms.

"Ew! Okay, actually I didn't miss you at all, you can walk back out of the door," you say, and grin as he whines sadly.

"No, no, don't say that!" he says, and you laugh and lightly push him away when he comes closer. "Hey, don't push me away!"

There's a scuffle as you try to run away, but he has his arms around you almost instantly so you can't move, both of you laughing.

"Hey! Let me go!"

"Never," he declares, in a silly, dramatic voice, but then his laughter dies down as he tilts your chin upwards ever so delicately.

And then his voice is going soft, eyes warm and melting into yours as he cups your face and kisses you, impossibly sweet.

"Love you," he says, and kisses your nose for good measure. "And I missed you too."

601 notes · View notes

ilovepedro · 6 months

Text

Deja Vú | javier pena x f!reader

Series masterlist | Main masterlist

Chapter 2 - ‘Cause in my mind I want you here

Rating: 18+ MDNI

Chapter summary: After a long day, you schedule your date with Chris. The next day, you decide you need a distraction: shopping. While shopping for something suitable for your upcoming date, strange coincidences occur throughout the day, including an encounter with Cassandra and Javier.

Chapter warnings: reader has some bouts of deja vu (hehehe), reader spirals a lot in this chapter, flirting, no smut (stay with me now!), miscommunication trope, encounter with Cassandra, encounter with Javi, angst, mutual pining, Javi is still a stupid, oblivious asshole because he's a man, reader speaks and understands Spanish, reader is female, no mention of hair type/skin color/body type, NO USE OF Y/N, translations available at end of chapter.

Word count: ~3.1k

A/N: i know, still no smut, but bear with me! i promise the third and final chapter will be smut galore! i just have to set the story up so they can have narsty, in-love, makeup sex :P not beta’d, all mistakes are my own

Divider by @saradika

You reach your apartment building again, wheeling your cart down through the lobby and to the stairs. Exhaustion creeps up on you as you replay all the events from today in your head, every emotion racing through your mind. You stop yourself before you can spiral, reminding yourself of Chris - eager to have a better night.

Arriving at your door, you unlock it and lug all your groceries inside. You quickly put everything away and head into the bathroom. You turn the shower on and twist the knob to the hottest setting, stripping down while it heats up. Entering the shower, you bask in the scalding water as it washes off the events of this shitty day. Stepping out of the shower, you wrap yourself in your towel and apply your skincare. Feeling refreshed, you saunter into your bedroom. Normally, you slip on a t-shirt Javi’s left behind, but that’s out of the question.

Sporting a tank top and sleep shorts, you walk into the kitchen and pour yourself a healthy glass of wine. The bottle already opened from sharing it with Javi two days ago on Sunday before hooking up. With all the strength in your being, you push past the urge to spiral. Downing the wine, you refill your glass to the brim - you deserve it.

As you whip around to settle on the couch with your wine and a movie, your phone rings. You roll your eyes, not in the mood to talk to anybody, and sigh as you pick up the phone. “Hello?” Your voice is monotonous and blasé. “Hi. This is Chris Feistl, from the market earlier.” Your eyes go wide at the sound of his voice.

“Oh hi! I’m so sorry if I sounded rude just now! Long day,” you mutter apologetically. “No worries. Trust me, I get it,” he says. “So… were you thinking of me the rest of the day?” You playfully tease, a real grin on your face now. “I sure was, if I’m honestly speaking. You’re just really beautiful and I couldn’t get you out of my head,” he confidently says.

Heat courses through your veins as you grow flustered from his boldness. It feels nice to be truly wanted, however you can’t help but feel a little guilty for not thinking of him for the majority of the day. Having mostly served as a distraction from Javi. “Hello? You still there?” Chris’ voice pulls you out of your trance. You’ve got to stop spacing out.

“Hi! Yes, sorry, I’m here,�� you meekly say. “Sorry, did I come on too strong?” You can hear the confidence waver in his voice. “No, no! Not at all, you’re very charming. I’m just not used to being flirted with so openly,” you tell him earnestly. “Well, hopefully I can change that. A beautiful woman like you deserves to be showed off,” he says, confidence returning to his voice now.

You smile at his sweetness. “You’re too kind,” feeling bashful. “Are you free on Friday night? I’d love to show you off a bit, if that’s alright with you,” His smile is evident over the phone. “I am free on Friday, and that’s more than alright with me,” you say, biting back your bottom lip. “Awesome. Would you like to have dinner with me? I could either pick you up at 8 or have a car sent to you? Or we could just meet there, whatever you’re comfortable with,” he asks, rambling a bit. “Send a car? Oh, you’re fancy, huh? You didn’t tell me you were rich,” you tease. He barks out a laugh. “No, I’m not rich. My job just provides transportation, so it’s an option if you’d like,” he says through his laughter.

“I’m just messing with you, but I’d love to have dinner with you. And how about I meet you at the restaurant? Then, we’ll see where the night takes us. Who knows… maybe you’ll end up back at my place,” you banter. “Sounds good, like I said, whatever you’re comfortable with. And I like the sound of that,” he smugly says. You can’t help the boisterous laugh that escapes you at his playfulness.

You haven’t laughed all day, so this feels nice - natural. “You have a very pretty laugh,” he says. “Thank you, are you always this smooth?” You meekly ask, his flirting sends another wave of heat through your body. “Only with you.” You smack your lips and roll your eyes, both your smiles evident over the other line as a brief comfortable silence settles over you two.

“So, there’s this really nice restaurant not too far from my job, I can give you the address whenever you’re ready,” he says, breaking the silence. “Give me one second,” you say while scrambling for a pen and paper. “Okay, what’s the address?” He tells you the name and address of the restaurant, you scribble it down.

“Alright, Chris. I’ll let you go. It was so nice talking to you again. I’m looking forward to seeing you. I’ll see you on Friday at 8,” you tell him, smiling into the phone. “Sounds good. It was nice talking to you again too. Looking forward to seeing you too. See you Friday, pretty lady,” he says, bidding you goodbye.

A dreamy sigh escapes you as you place the phone back on the receiver, Javi forgotten once more. You re-read the name of the restaurant again before plopping down on the couch. It looks oddly familiar, like you’d heard or seen the name of it before. The address definitely sounds familiar. Shrugging, you don’t question it further. You turn on the tv and continue to forget about Javi for the rest of your night.

You wake the next morning, static blaring from the tv and with a crick in your neck as you’d fallen asleep on the couch. Stretching and massaging your neck, you rise to your feet to clean the mess you’d left on your coffee table. You pad into the kitchen to put your dirty glass in the sink, and chug a glass of water. The amount of wine you had created a dull ache behind your eyeballs. You prepare and scarf down 2 eggs and some toast with your glass of water.

Waltzing into the bathroom, you freshen up and get ready for the day. While choosing an outfit from your closet, you realize you don’t have anything nearly fancy enough for the restaurant you’ll be going to with Chris on Friday night. You’re off today, so you decide to go shopping for a new outfit while getting dressed.

You slip on your sneakers, grab your purse and keys, and head out on your journey. You cautiously walk through the stairwell and lobby, in fear of bumping into Cassandra, or worse, Javi. Desperately fighting off any thoughts of the two of them, you stroll down to a small boutique not far from your apartment.

Sifting through the racks for what feels like hours, you begin to feel defeated as nothing has caught your eye or wasn’t what you envisioned when you tried it on. You turn to walk out the store 'til something silky shines from the corner of your eye. A satin red dress glistens in the fluorescent light. You rush to grab it off the rack before anyone else can and ask to try it on. You’re led to a fitting room and hope and pray it fits.

It’s a perfect fit, making you feel sexy - never having owned a dress like this before. You wonder what Javi - Chris. You wonder what Chris will think of it, hoping he’ll love it. You’re going out with Chris. You’re shopping for your date with Chris, not Javi. You hadn’t thought about Javi since yesterday and you’re not about to start now. Shaking him from your thoughts, you slip off the dress and hang it back on the hanger. Getting dressed, you wonder how the hell Javi managed to worm his way back into your brain. You gather your things and go to checkout, paying for the dress and making your way home.

Walking home, you spot your friend and favorite vendor, Ana. She’s the woman you buy cocadas from. You smile and wave to her. “Hola Ana!” You say, politely while walking up to her. “Hola mija! Cómo estás? Cómo estaban las cocadas?” She asks. You tense up at the innocent question, reminded of Javi again. “Bien y usted? Y las cocadas muy bien! Estaban delicioso como siempre,” you tell her, fighting back the urge to frown. “Bien mija, gracias. Y toma un poco más, para ti y Javier!”

At the mention of his name, you see a man in a pink shirt from the corner of your eye - you’d know that pink shirt anywhere. Of course he’d be here when you’re trying to avoid him. You can’t contain the gasp that escapes you as you stare at the man. “Qué pasó, mija? Está todo bien?” Ana’s voice brings you back down to Earth, making you catch a better glimpse of the man in pink. He's wearing sunglasses, but not aviators - and he's shorter than Javi.

Realizing it’s not Javi, you sigh in relief. “Lo siento, Ana. Me pareció ver algo, una niña casi se cae,” you apologize, lying in the midst to avoid explaining what’s going on with Javi. “Está bien. Bueno, toma un poco más por favor,” she tells you, holding out a fresh bag of cocadas. She is too sweet for her own good.

“Estas segura? Déjame pagarte, por favor,” “No es problema, mija. Eres mi cliente favorita,” she says with a reassuring smile and a wink. Your heart melts at her kindness, reluctantly taking the bag from her. “Muchas gracias, Ana,” you say, reaching to embrace her. “De nada, mija. Que tenga un buen día, ok? Y dale a Javier mi amor,” she says. Your lips pull into a tense smile at the mention of him again and the use of the word 'love.' “Lo haré. Que tenga un buen día!” You say, unintentionally rushing home as your feet carry you faster than normal.

You pull out your keys and open the main entrance. Sighing, you mindlessly rub your hands over your face as you try to process your almost-meltdown earlier. As you walk up the stairs and onto the second floor, you hear a woman laughing from downstairs - that same familiar laughter from yesterday. You still, tensing up in the hallway.

Your feet move before you can realize it and you peek over the railing of the stairs. There she is - the same woman who was with Javi in the lobby. A small gasp escapes you and you move to scurry away, but not before you drop your keys to the tile floor in the quiet building, causing a loud clang and garnering unwanted attention. The conversation downstairs stops, the people looking up to find the source of commotion.

The woman spots you, making direct eye contact with you. She gives you a blank stare while the man she’s talking to says hello to you. “Hola, mija. Estás bien?” Your downstairs neighbor, Mr. Sanchez, greets you. “Hola señor Sanchez. Sí, estoy bien. Lo siento para el ruido,” you politely say, flashing him and the woman an apologetic smile as you pick up your keys. “Está bien, mija. Esta es mi sobrina Cassandra.”

You shoot her a polite smile. “Hola Cassandra.” “Hola,” she bites, glaring at you. Her coldness catches you by surprise. You suspect she remembers you from earlier. Her uncle scolds her rudeness, oblivious to tension in the air.

“Cómo estás, mija? Hace tiempo que no te veo.” He says with a smile, shifting the conversation towards him. “Yo sé, lo siento. Necesito visitar más pero estoy bien. Y usted?” “Bien, mija. Gracias. Y sí, ven a cenar pronto!” He says enthusiastically. “Eso estaría bien, lo haré. Bueno… que tengan un buen dia, señor Sanchez y Cassandra,” you say. “Gracias, mija. Y usted también,” Mr. Sanchez says with a smile and a wave. Cassandra doesn’t say anything, her arms crossed and her hardened gaze fixated on you.

You turn and exhale a deep sigh, making your way to your apartment. All you want to do is hide away from the world after another weird day. With your gaze turned down to the floor, you don’t see the person in the hallway before bumping into them. You stumble back, a hand catching you before you hit the ground. “Lo siento mu-,” you begin to apologize, stopping midway as you look up. Javi stands before you, funnily enough in the pink shirt you thought you saw earlier.

Gasping, you yank your arm out of his grasp as if you’d been burned. “You okay?” He asks. “I’m fine,” you bite. You want to leave, but your feet are glued to the floor. “How are you, cariño?” He awkwardly asks. The nickname snaps you out of it, taking a step forward. “Why do you care? And stop calling me that,” you grit, pushing a finger into his chest. “Why do I care? So, I can’t ask how you’re doing anymore either?” He asks. “I said I'm fine,” you seethe. “That's not what I meant and you know it. You’re my best friend, and I know when something’s wrong," he says. “Do I know what you mean?" You sarcastically ask, already tired of this conversation. "Huh? I haven’t spoken to you since yesterday morning. I’m just trying to figure out why you shut me out with no explanation,” he says firmly, genuinely offended by your words. "I don’t owe you an explanation, the same way you don’t owe me one,” you respond curtly, attempting to leave. “An explanation? What do I need to explain?” He asks, genuinely confused. You open your mouth to go off on him, but are cut off before you can speak.

“Javier!” You hear that same voice, the one you heard just moments ago. You twirl around and see Cassandra standing at the end of the hall. Javi looks like a deer caught in headlights, unsure of what to do. The bitterness creeps up in your throat like bile. “Have fun with your new best friend, since you only want to fuck them anyway,” you spit, tears welling in your eyes as you push past him. Of course she’s here to see him again. He must be on lunch, seeing her on his break.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Tears sting in the corner of your eyes, scoffing at his words as you whip back around to face him. “Please don’t play dumb with me, Javier. Oh, and these are for you, just as promised. Ana says hi, by the way,” you tell him, aggressively shoving the cocadas into his hold. You turn to storm off.

“Querida,” he says, defeat and confusion lacing his voice. “Stop! Just… please. Leave me alone, Javier,” your choke out, voice hoarse and trembling, barely above a whisper. You practically sprint to your apartment. Javi internally battles the urge to go after you, ultimately choosing to leave you alone. His brain short-circuits as he tries to figure out what your words meant. He recalls your words from Sunday night, confused as you’d said he could see other people. “Hola, Javier,” Cassandra purrs in his ear, pulling him out of his trance. “Hola, Cassandra,” he sighs, giving her a hug and a peck on the cheek. He sneaks one last look down the hall.

You reach your apartment. Regrettably, you steal a glance down the hallway. You feel your heart crack into a million pieces. Javi and Cassandra stand there in an embrace, his lips brushing against her cheek as she smiles. Javi looks down the hall and makes direct eye contact with you. Your bottom lip wobbles as his brows scrunch together and his lips droop. You run inside and throw the bag that contains your dress on the counter, finally allowing the tears you’ve been holding back to cascade down your face. Rushing to your bedroom, you plop down onto your bed and curl into a ball as sobs wrack your body.

Your mind races with a million thoughts. How did Cassandra meet Javi? She obviously has family members who live in the building, but how did they meet? How long have they known each other? Why is this whole thing bothering you so much? Do you have feelings for Javi? Is that why? And does he have feelings for her? Why does he not have feelings for you? Not that it’d matter. Are you not good enough to be in a relationship with him? Is he embarrassed to be seen with you? What does Cassandra have that you don’t? Why did he lie? Did you do something to upset him? You knew having that conversation two nights ago was a mistake - you knew it wouldn’t go in your favor.

You unintentionally sob yourself into a deep sleep, giving your brain and heart a break from everything. You stir from your slumber, glancing at the clock. It’s 7 o’clock. You accidentally slept for 4 hours. Your head throbs and your eyes burn. You rub your temples to soothe the ache. A knock at your door grabs your attention. Rising from your feet, you pad to the front door and peer into the peephole. No one is there, but you see a bouquet of flowers resting on the floor.

Reluctantly opening your door, you reach for the bouquet and see that there’s a small note attached to the flowers. You remove the note and read what it says, confused as to who would leave you flowers. Chris doesn’t have your address so you have no clue who these could be from.

“I’m sorry for whatever I did to make you so upset with me. I hope we can fix things and go back to the way things were. I miss my best friend. -Javi.”

You can’t contain the bitter scoff that leaves your lips, rolling your eyes and angrily laughing. Taking a step back, you slam the door and lock it. He thinks he can fix everything with fucking flowers? How could he be so oblivious? Rage boils in your blood, shaking as you rip up the note. You toss it in the trash along with the flowers. How fucking dare he?

Dragging yourself to the tap, you pour yourself a glass of water and chug it. While rummaging for ingredients to whip up a quick dinner, you spot the bag with the dress you bought earlier on the counter - before your day went to shit. It reminds you of Chris and the date you have with him in 3 days, a genuine smile makes its way onto your face.

You pull it out of the bag, dinner forgotten as you go to try it on again. The red satin flatters you, feeling sexy as the hem stops mid-thigh and reveals your chest and back. Javi once said red was your col-, you immediately shake that thought from your head. He doesn’t deserve any of your energy. Twirling in the mirror, you feel giddy anticipating your date on Friday. You can’t wait to see Ja - Chris… Chris’ reaction when he sees you in the dress.

Translations:

Cómo estás? - how are you?

Cómo estaban las cocadas? - how were the cocadas?

Bien y usted? - good and you?

Estaban deliciosos como siempre - they were delicious as always

Toma un poco más, para ti y Javier - take a few more, for you and Javier

Qué pasó, mija? - what happened, mija?

Está todo bien? - is everything okay?

Lo siento, Ana. Me pareció ver algo, una niña casi se cae - i’m sorry Ana. i thought i saw something, a little girl almost fell

Estas segura? - are you sure?

Déjame pagarte por favor - let me pay you please

No es problema, eres mi cliente favorita - it’s no problem, you’re my favorite customer

Que tenga un buen día - have a good day

Dale a Javier mi amor - give Javier my love

Lo haré - i will

Lo siento para el ruido - sorry for the noise

Está es mi sobrina - this is my niece

Hace tiempo que no te veo - i haven’t seen you in a while

Necesito visitar más - i need to visit more

Ven a cenar pronto - come over for dinner soon

Eso estaría bien - that would be nice

Javi is such a stupid jackass, i’m sorry y’all 😭

but i hope y'all are enjoying the buildup! the third and final chapter is when shit is going to hit the fan! 🤭

tag list: @undrthelights @gracieheartsspedro @jenispunk @nostalxgic @mandoisapunk @party-hearses @bastardmandennis @tinygarbage @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin @daydreamingmiller @javierpena-inatacvest @chaotic-mystery @amanitacowboy @factualfic @pascalpvnk @joeldjarin @kirsteng42 @pedrohoe04 @callmecath1 @sydneyinacoma @persephone-girl @suagmiller @honey-dip-24 @lizlil @thevoiceinyourheadx @harriedandharassed @xthejazzdalorianx @antifragilejpn @evangelinemedici @innerpersonunknown @vickie5446

if your name is crossed out, it means i couldn’t tag you ):

#fic: deja vú #javier peña narcos #javier peña x f!reader #javier peña x female reader #javier peña x reader #javier peña fic #javier peña #javi peña

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canonmisogynyvictimstournament · 8 months

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PROPAGANDA

STARFIRE (DC COMICS) (CW: Sex Trafficking)

1.) She is frequently put down in the og 80s comics due to being more expressive and open with her emotions, and ever since the og she has frequently been painted as just eyecandy (ignoring her sexual trauma) when her character is so incredibly complex. Special mention goes to red hood and the outlaws (2011) (written by a sexual harasser) for just terrible stand out awful reasons which will be seen in the below photos and her 2015 solo for combining her vapid portrayal there with her cartoon quirkiness to culminate in a trash comic that is just her basically being the born sexy yesterday trope.

2.) 2011 reboot, in RHATO she was turned into a walking fetish by retconning most parts of her character and erasing all personality displayed in the past 30 years of comics. in that iteration she is only interested in sex and is dehumanised and ‘exotic’. she ‘forgot’ all her past relationships because she doesn’t care about them only sex. her only purpose in that book is as a powerhouse and a sex/love interest for one of the male characters who view her as a trophy because she used to date someone he dislikes (in this continuity) let’s also not forget that she was first created just to be a love interest and although she did grow into a hood character at some point, she is treated horribly time and time again by writers because of conflicting ships. she’s written as a ‘vixen’ as opposed to another ‘good girl’ female character who is shipped with the same guy in canon

3.) Her original characterization was fairly decent, however it still had her stuck in relationships with men that weren't very good for her and had overtones of racism with how she was written. Post that her characterization was slowly chipped away at, some writers with harder sledgehammers than others, culminating in current writing where she's dismissed as "just a fling" to her original counterpart (Dick Grayson) to prop up a different ship (Dick Grayson/Barbara Gordon) and frequently has been used as eye candy in other comics. Simply open the first comic of Red Hood and the Outlaws, which obliterated her personality to make her associate/be subservient to the Red Hood, and you'll find plenty of panels of her appearing simply for eye candy in the boobs and butt pose for absolutely no reason. This is not the only time she's been used to cater to the male gaze (I'd argue even in her original context that was part of her appeal) but in this comic she essentially has no personality beyond "i want sex" as her memory of all past events has been erased. She's essentially just a tool for her male counterparts in the comic to bounce off of, and eye candy to bring more male readers in. She does eventually get more storylines later on, but that doesn't excuse the bad writing she was put through. Her own solo series also cashes in on her sex appeal, by infantilizing at the same time as drawing her in skimpy outfits + more boobs and butt poses galore to go for the "born sexy yesterday" misogynistic trope.

NYA SMITHA (LEGO NINJAGO)

1.) it would take way too long to talk abt all of it but like… in the series colors are very important for characters and everyone has their own color but from episode one for the next 8 seasons her colors were specifically tied to her brother.. and then when she finally got her own ninja outfit she wasnt given her own color the colors were specifically red for her brother and blue for her boyfriend. shes constantly diminished to just the men who are closest to her. also every time she meets someone they Must become a love interest (including the man who was significantly older than her and trained her to use her powers. and also she was kidnapped and forced to marry a thousand year old djinn (when she was like SIXTEEN) because she looked a little bit like his dead wife. weird as hell.)

2.) she was given NOWHERE NEAR as much development as the guys (except for the bullshit love triangle!!!) despite being at the time leagues more competent than her brother in their debut, was damsel’d so he had to Save The Girl. again, the Bullshit Love Triangle. even after she got her own “thing” she was just boiled down to “oh look it’s the girlboss!! she’s just as good as the guys!!” while still getting sidelined. as time went on and flanderization increased she pretty much just became The Team Girl, and she was ALREADY The Team Girl!!! they left her behind with the fuckin grandpa!!!

3.) Left behind to take care of the kid simply because “she’s the girl” for the first season and a half, is fairly blatantly excluded from the team, is believed to be unable to protect herself or others by antagonists throughout the series, and repeatedly dehumanized and referred to exclusively as “girl.” When the ninja are public figures in season 6 she is shown dealing with misogyny from the press in several ways, and in her focus season (Seabound) she speaks out against how she’s been treated as an object rather than a person. All around a girlboss who deserves better

#polls #round 1 #week 1 #new #cw sex trafficking

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tranakin-skywalker · 2 months

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Story Masterlist

Figured I should finally make one of these so y'all know what the fuck I'm talking about when I go on about my silly little au ideas. I'll be updating this list as I publish things/ come up with new ideas. Published fics have a hyperling to their ao3 embedded in their title.

THE BIG BOYS

Singularity:

Half canon re-write, half me going "hey wouldn't it be fucked up if _?" Basically I packed all my favorite little headcanons and tropes into one five-part monster of a series, featuring things like eldritch demigod Anakin, Force deities, fucked up Naboo politics, sentient droids, and a Galactic Civil War that actually feels Galactic and like a war. Somehow ended up with me both trying to make Star Wars more realistic, and leans way more into the mythological side of the story. Also features a ton of my own original concepts. A pantheon of Tatooine gods and slave culture inspired loosely by Fialleril, Sith religion and rituals, clone culture and language built around the idea that they've been dehumanized and un-personed for their entire existence, and a bunch of stuff about the Coruscant underworld. You can find more about it under my fic:singularity tag

Star-Birth:

The first part of Singularity more or less covering the events of TPM with a few... creative liberties taken. Status: Published/ Ongoing Word Count: 92,740

Accretion:

Part II of Singularity covering the years of Anakin's apprenticeship between TPM and AOTC, as well as looks into both the lives of Shmi and Padme. I took inspiration from a bunch of the stories in Legends covering this time period but most of it is my own thing. This is the one that goes the deepest into the functions and every day life of the Jedi, as well as life on Coruscant in general. An exploration of the disconnect between the governing body of the Senate and the wider galaxy, the wealth disparity on Coruscant and just how fucking dystopian it is, and generally how something like the Clone Wars could come about. Status: Unpublished

Asterism:

Part III of Singularity. AOTC if I butchered it's body and reassembled it in the imagine of my own design. Some of the movie's plot points remain but I'm attempting to get from Point A to Point B as originally as I can while still keeping with the heart of Attack of the Clones. Status: Unpublished

Nucleosynthesis:

Part IV of Singularity. The Clone Wars but not the animated version. We are going full Republic comics version baby. Ahsoka is still here tho, because I love her. Basically my idea of what a galactic civil war would actually look like, featuring space battles that last for months on end, widespread disease outbreaks, planets completely wiped out of existence, billions of combatants, and war crimes galore. The size of this war is immense. Like, there's over 1 billion active duty clones at any given time. (Which actually isn't even all that much compared to the population of the Republic at large lol) Probably the most space opera of the series. Status: Unpublished

Event Horizon:

Fifth and final part of Singularity. Essentially it's version of RotS, but with a vastly different ending. And beginning. And middle. Basically it's RotS if you squint. This I think is going to be the one that goes the deepest into the mythological/ fantasy aspects of the story. The Force and all it's weirdness is a huge aspect of this one. This is also the fic that goes the deepest into the Sith and all their awfulness. It features a much beloved headcanon of mine that when a Sith master is killed by their apprentice, part of their consciousness enters into their apprentice as a sort of living holocron. Which means that the current Sith master is essentially possessed by all the Sith that came before them and is constantly having to fight to keep control of their own body. It serves both as a way to pass on all the Sith teachings (since a living master would have a vested interest in keeping knowledge from their apprentice and thus a lot of that knowledge would be lost over time) and as an attempt at immortality. A strong enough spirit can take control of a weak enough vessel. Unfortunately for all those Sith masters, any apprentice who is able to go on and kill their own master isn't going to be in any way weak. A full, proper possession in the Sith lineage has been few and far between. I imagine y'all can guess what this means for Sidious' intentions with Anakin, a living vergence of the Force and for all intents and purposes immortal (even if Anakin won't let himself acknowledge that fact). Status: Unpublished

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Cytokinesis:

What started as me asking myself "what if the start of ANH but Vader/Anakin was trans and the twin's gestating parent and thus, recognized Leia immediately?" which then turned into something much much longer than I intended. Oops. The actual story starts during the Clone Wars when Anakin discovers he's been magically impregnated by the Force just like how his own mother was. Deals a lot with gender, parenthood, generational trauma, and repeating cycles. Also clones. Lots and lots with the clones. Their relationship with Anakin after discovering that he's basically a clone of his mother is a huge part of this fic. This particular version is going to follow along the beats of RotS and what comes after more or less (so, things are going to get a lot worse before they get better. Sorry) with some divergence here and there. This is the fic I find myself going back and rewriting/tweaking the most. Which is partially why it's taking me so long to update. I'm trying to make this next chapter one I'm completely happy with instead of having to go back and redo it in a few weeks lol. (Tho I think that's part of the fun of fanfic, the ability to go back and change things whenever you want). Honestly, this one is getting so long I might end up having to split it into two fics. fic: cytokinesis tag Status: Published/ Ongoing

Unnamed Cytokinesis Spin-off:

While Cyto is going to have a happy ending, it's going to take a lot of hurt to get there. Which is why I came up with an au to my au where the twins come early, Anakin doesn't fall, and things are happy... ish. The Republic is still a trash fire on the brink of collapse and everyone still has so so much trauma. Even when I write a happy au, things still suck lmao. I just can't imagine a RotS fix-it where things aren't still falling apart and Anakin gets off scot-free for murdering the president of the galaxy. Status: Unpublished

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Groundwater:

Ah yes, the fic that is really three differnt aus in a trench coat. 1. In the midst of galactic instability and the seceding of dozens of planets from the Republic, a revolt begins to spread in the Outer Rim. A revolt led by unknown masked force users, and a suspected Sith known only as Vader. The Jedi scramble to uncover the identity of these new enemies, only to discover a plethora of unpleasant truths that make them begin to question themselves and the very Republic instead. 2. After five years with the Jedi Anakin starts to have nightmares about his mother dying and they. just. won't. stop. He asks Obi-Wan for help, begs him for the chance to go to Tatooine and make sure she's alright. He isn't allowed to go. So he takes matters into his own hands. He leaves in the middle of the night, nothing but a note and a cut padawan braid left behind, and he goes to save his mother. Anakin ends up finding more than just his mother. There's a freedom network, one that Shmi is part of. There is a rebellion brewing, stolen weapons and stolen ships. There is a city in the desert, a paradise made by the hands of escaped slaves. And there are things, old things, powerful things, that he never new existed on Tatooine. Like deep ancient caves carved by the planet's mythical groundwater where kyber crystals grow wild and undiscovered. 3. Darth Vader lived, and then he died. In his son's arms he died, but that wasn't the end of it. There is no death, there is only the Force. And the Force was not done with him yet. He returns, four decades in the past, as a ghost haunting his younger self. Forced into the role of a passive observer, no power, no voice, seen only by one little boy and unable to change anything. Cursed to watch history repeat itself. Or at least that's what he thought. fic: groundwater tag Status: Unpublished

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I Wonder Which One Has My Eyes:

There was something achingly familiar about the pair of droids following the young princess around, Pooja thought. Or Pooja Naberrie, junior senator of Naboo, is invited to a senatorial event on Alderaan. There she meets and befriends young Princess Leia Organa. A few things click into place. This one is actually inspired by @keistance fic Uncle Ani, where the Naberries knew about the Anidala marriage. I thought it would be so so fun if Pooja realized that Leia was her baby cousin and secretly tells Leia all about her birth parents. Which means she goes into ANH knowing all about Padme Amidala and Anakin Skywalker, something that completely derails a certain interrogation with a certain Dark Lord when he stumbles over that particular fact. I'm fascinated by the idea of Leia coming from a similar place as Luke in canon, where she knows her father as a good man named Anakin Skywalker before she ever knew him as Vader. I think that change in perspective would give her the same belief and drive to bring her father back to the Light that Luke has. Also I think both twins ganging up on Vader to bully him into redemption is very funny. Status: Unpublished

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Unnamed Togruta AU:

Or Togruta!Skywalkers. Shmi and Anakin are Tatooine togruta, a rare population of togs that were ensalved from Shili dozens of generations ago and slowly grew to adapt to the desert environment. A characteristic of the Tatooine togs is the forward facing montals, which Anakin has. It's a trait coveted for gladiator slaves since they can be used to pin down/gore opponents. Anakin was occasionally entered into matches as a child where he was forced to fight and kill animals. Had he not been taken by the Jedi, he would have eventually been put in death matches against other sentients. (because I'm lazy I'm just copy/pasting this part from an old ask)

A lot of the ideas are coming from the hyena discord, so I can’t claim them as my own. But they are just too good to pass up. Like togruta making infrasound with their montrals and constantly projecting their moods. So when Anakin first gets to the Temple he’s constantly screaming for him mom at a pitch that only other togruta can hear. I’ve decided that that’s actually how he first meets Ahsoka. She hears him making his lost, scared, where’s mom, where’s family sounds and seeks him out to comfort him. Ahsoka would be about four here, and would have left Shili recently enough that she could still remember what those noises mean, even if Tatooine togruta sound different from Shili togruta. (to a Shili tog Anakin’s distressed noises sound like he’s being maimed, but that’s just because of the generational trauma and general awfulness of being a togruta on Tatooine. What they would think of the vocalizations he makes when actually being maimed we will not think about)

So Anakin and Ahsoka end up growing up together right from the start, and the main reason Anakin is so insistent on being knighted early is so that Ahsoka can be his padawan. It’s a private thought he has to himself at first, but as Ahsoka gets older and no masters are showing any interest in taking her on she starts to panic. Anakin tells her that he’ll just have to get knighted before she ages out so that he can be her master. And then the Clone War starts and he realizes that keeping his promise means bringing her onto the battlefield with him where she could die and he’s not sure if he’ll be enough to keep her alive :) Because Shmi is a togruta too she does not get bought by Cleigg Lars. I am just. not dealing with the implications of that. (Listen. I want to read Shmi’s marriage to him as a good thing, but I have a very hard time doing that.) Now, there’s actually a comic (Legands, I think, not Disney canon) where Gardulla goes to Watto and tries to buy Anakin back after he wins the Boonta Eve Classic. So have some fun thoughts about what would have happened to Anakin if he hadn’t gone with Qui-Gon. In the fic, Gardulla goes to buy Anakin but of course he left with the Jedi, so Gardulla decides she’ll take Shmi as payment for Watto’s debts. After all, if Shmi already had one child who turned out to be a talented podracer, well, she might have more. Hence the younger sibling that comes about shortly after Anakin leaves.

When Anakin goes back to Tatooine because of the nightmares about his mom he finds out that Watto sold his mom back to Gardulla and has to go to her to buy his mom’s freedom. Which would be traumatic, on multiple levels. Anakin finds out that a month before he arrived, Shmi tried to escape with the sister Anakin didn’t know he had, and Gardulla had their chips detonated. Gardulla even gives him their triggered remotes as proof. (Of course unbeknownst to Anakin, Shmi and the sister survived and are living with a village of other escaped togruta.) A lot of canon still happens the same, including Anakin’s fall, Order 66, Mustafar, etc. But when Bail Organa sees Ahsoka at Padme’s funeral he tells her that he can take her to a mutual friend of theirs. Ahsoka thinks (hopes) it’s Anakin at first, and is devastated when she realizes it’s Obi-Wan (and then hates herself for feeling disappointment because she should be happy that Obi-Wan is still alive, but he’s not Anakin, and this means that Anakin must be dead). There’s no Lars family and the Organas would have a harder time explaining a non-human daughter, so Ahsoka and Obi-Wan end up taking care of the twins. They eventually find their way to Tatooine because it’s out of the Empire’s notice and, well, because it’s a connection to Anakin (Ahsoka’s trying to hold onto anything she can that connects her to her brother and Obi-Wan is in his self-harming phase.)

And it’s there that they eventually run into a little community of togruta and a woman who looks suspiciously like Anakin who has the last name Skywalker. But hey, Shmi gets to meet her grandkids at least. Even if it happens at the same time that she finds out that son she thought she’d sent away to a better life and hasn’t seen in 13 years is dead. (Obi-Wan sees how much Anakin’s death destroys Shmi and decides to never, ever tell her what he became. Vader will be his burden and it’s a secret he will take to his grave. Anakin Vader is dead, and he’ll save them from ever finding out how it really happened) Of course, 15 years later Ahsoka goes to rescue some rebels from a walking death omen in black when she realizes the infrasound calls he’s shrieking out of his mangled montrals is devastatingly familiar.

togruta au tag or togrutakin tag Status: Unpublished

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Anachromism:

Anakin ends up twenty three years in the future, Vader ends up twenty three years in the past.

So you’ve got Anakin just fresh off the child murder suddenly flung into the Rebellion era and being faced with how much he supremely fucked up. Meanwhile Vader like not even a week after Bespin suddenly back in the Jedi Temple in the middle of the Purge. And because his vision is shit he doesn’t realize at first that it’s a bunch of clone troopers shooting at the big black angry mass that suddenly appeared. Which leads him to accidentally saving a bunch of baby Jedi, who of course imprint on him like orphaned ducklings. Vader figures he must had died at some point and this is a divine punishment for all the atrocities, trapped in a purgatory of reliving all his greatest mistakes. So in a bit of an uncharacteristic move for him, he doesn’t murder to death the gaggle of preschoolers he’s accidentally collected, and instead, in a series of absurd events sort of unintentionally helps to start the Rebel Alliance in a bit of cosmic irony.

Status: Unpublished

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War Machines (title pending):

Jedi are living weapons. Far into the Outer Rim, the Hutts obtain a planet killer. Dystopian au where the sith empire was never wiped out and controls half the galaxy and the Republic is more of an authoritarian dictatorship that uses teh Jedi as living weapons of mass destruction. Force sensitive children are taken from their families and trained as soldiers, raised with a cloned ‘handler’ who was designed specifically to be able to keep their Jedi in line. The Jedi are eldritch, incredibly powerful beings that are forced to wear suppression gear that keeps them confined to their physical form. Only the handler is able to turn it off the gear and allow the jedi the full use of their abilities. Some force sensitives are wired into ships or turned into actual weapons. On Tatooine, Gardulla realizes one of her slaves is a powerful force sensitive and begins having him trained like a jedi to be her own personal one man army. Status: Unpublished

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the thing that lives in dead stars (title pending):

A gambler Watto may have been, but stupid he was not. Anakin Skywalker was too great a prize to risk losing, not when the man betting had the gleam in his eye that told of a winning hand. Not that it mattered in the end. The boy won, and Watto lost, and the hutts got themselves the only human in the entire galaxy that could win a pod race. At least the outlander didn’t leave with the boy as well as his pretty Noobian ship. Or Anakin wins the race but not his freedom. Six years later, the circuit brings him to Coruscant, and the attention of a Sith Lord. My very fucked up Anakin raised as a Sith AU. Status: Unpublished

Shapeshifters AU:

aka space vampire Vader aka sun dragon Skywalkers. So I think we've established by this point that I can't get enough of Eldritch Skywalkers. They are my JAM. So of course I made another eldritch Skywalkers au. There's a few main points to this one. 1. Anakin, and subsequently Luke and Leia, being freaky part-Force abominations, can shapeshift. However, they cannot shapeshift into anything they like. This isn't FMA Envy/ Mystique/ whatever. They can't just look at a person and copy their face. Instead they have to have a deep emotional connection to what they are transforming into, and that transformation is always accessed by strong emotion. While they could theoretically shapeshift into a person they care very close to, the thought of doing so is very unnerving and almost violating, so they don't. Instead, all three Skywalkers have a habit of changing into creatures from Tatooine mythology. 2. Anakin and Beru are half siblings. I love this idea. I cannot express to you how much I love this idea. It just scratches something in my brain so well. Beru is Anakin's younger sister by about a year, and got left on Tatooine with their mother when Anakin was taken by Qui-Gon. She is not a part-Force abomination, but grew up knowing all about Anakin's weirdness. 3. Luke AND Leia are both given to Beru (and Owen) because of said knowledge about Anakin's weirdness. She is probably the best and safest option for raising two baby shapeshifting half-Force abominations. And thus the twins grow up on the same stories Anakin did, with the added knowledge that he could turn into those creatures, and thus, so do they. 4. At some point Anakin found out he could consume the midi-chlorians of other Force sensitives on account of the whole half-Force abomination thing. And since midi-chlorians exist in a persons blood, well. Space vampire. Sidious has a lot of fun feeding Force sensitive people to his pet monster. 5. Speaking of- Vader is more often than not a fuck off huge black hole of a sun dragon. Like, legitimately. In this, sun dragons are essentially living stars in the shape of massive serpents. Vader is what happens when one of those living suns becomes a black hole. 6. Vader is just all around fucked up honestly. He no longer gets to decide what form he takes. His body and everything about it is determined by Sidious' will. His master decides what he turns into, and Vader was always meant to be a monster on a leash. So of course that's what Sidious keeps him as. 7. The twins somehow get roped into the Rebellion. Don't ask me how, I haven't figured out that part just yet. Status: Unpublished

SHORT FICS & ONE-SHOTS

For a Son:

He could not bring her son back to her. Could not even return his body to lay to rest. The least he could do was bring her the grandchild she never even knew she had. He knew it could never forgive what he had taken. Obi-Wan finds out what happened to Shmi Skywalker. Word Count: 4,018 Status: Published

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Lessons the Desert Gave:

No one ever understood how the sand would sink into open wounds. How, no matter how much you scrubbed and washed and clawed, the sand always found its way into your blood. The desert has a way of sticking with you, even long after you left it. (Turns out growing up a slave can really fuck a guy up.) Ficlet/ one-shot collect of character studies looking at all the ways Anakin's childhood would have really messed him up. I'm open to prompts/ requests for this one. Word Count: 1,820 Status: Published / Ongoing

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Dead Letters:

Post RotS. Obi-Wan gets drunk and messages Anakin on his old comm from the war, forgetting that Anakin is dead. For some reason, he keeps on doing it. What could it hurt? Anakin is dead, his comm destroyed on Mustafar just like his body. So he keeps sending messages, because for just a second, it means he can pretend that Anakin is still alive out there somewhere. Then he discovers he doesn't have to pretend. This one could so easily be a crack-fic. Darth Vader gets drunk texts from Obi-Wan telling him all about how awful Tatooine is and that he'll never make fun of Anakin again for hating sand and he keeps getting sunburnt and also Anakin's son is so sweet and cute and just like him until he turned into a surly teenager, why couldn't he just stay an adorable little boy forever? Status: Unpublished

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Jewel Box:

Sidious’ obsession ran deep. What he wanted, he would have- wholly, utterly, and completely. His want for the boy was no different. Sidious POV of Anakin through the years featuring all the horrible messed up things he thinks and does. Big BIG warning for child abuse, grooming, and rape/non-con in addition to Sidious' all around awfulness. This is probably the most awful thing I've ever written. Like holy shit it's fucked up. It's taking me ages to finish because I keep having to take breaks from it. And I'm not even going into any graphic detail. Title comes from that one line in the RotS novel where Sidious calls Vader's suit a jewel box. Status: Unpublished

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kay-elle-cee · 9 months

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My Jily Week 2023 Master Post!

A HUGE thank you to @thegobletofweasleys for another FANTASTIC Jily week! I had a blast participating and reading everyone's fics!

I posted more than I expected to, so figured a nice little consolidation is in order (lest my drabbles be lost to the depths of tumblr)

Day 1 Fluff/Angst to ache, to hope || Daily Drabble

Day 2 In Any Universe I'd Fight Evil With You And The Roar Will Rise

Day 3 Fuck JKR Daily Double Drabble

Day 4 Tropes Galore! Daily Drabble

Day 5 Meet Cute Daily Drabble

Day 6 Your Field AU Daily Double Drabble

Day 7 Fake Dating Daily Drabble

Thank you again, Hafsa, for a wonderful event! I'd love to see some other Jily Week master lists for people who posted multiple fics!

#jily week 2023 #jily #james potter #lily evans #jple #kelsey writes #kay elle cee

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lottiesacolyte · 5 months

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lottienat days, day three: tropes galore

got lovesick all over my bed

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Yellowjackets (TV) Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Lottie Matthews/Natalie Scatorccio, Minor or Background Relationship(s), Van Palmer/Taissa Turner Characters: Lottie Matthews, Natalie Scatorccio, Van Palmer, Taissa Turner, Shauna Shipman, Callie Sadecki Additional Tags: Adult Timeline (Yellowjackets), Wedding Date AU, Fake/Pretend Relationship, fake dating au, Ex-Friends With Benefits, Idiots in Love, Fluff Summary:

“Natalie,” Lottie says sweetly in a tone that hints she’s about to ask for something she knows is likely going to be rejected.

Nat keeps her amused smirk to a minimum, raising an eyebrow at her, “Yes?”

“Will you come to the wedding with me? I don’t want to go alone.”

Nat thinks it over for a moment, and, if she’s being honest, it’s longer than she really needs. She just likes watching Lottie squirm. She doesn’t mind attending the wedding of some strangers. Lottie’s told her about them enough that she knows it’s going to be a drama-free event, and it’ll at least be some entertainment for a night.

#lottienatdays #lottienat #lottienat fic #lottie x nat #lottie matthews x natalie scatorccio #lottie matthews #natalie scatorccio #lottie matthews x natalie scatorccio fic #yellowjackets #yellowjackets fic

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geminicollisionworks · 5 months

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After an offhand line in an old ask of yours, I (with my Althaar-grade understanding of human intimacy) have been trying to work out who in the main cast had the mentioned brief offscreen sexual relationship that will never be acknowledged in-show but regardless affects how these characters are written.

There are easy exclusions, of course, but still many candidates. My current top candidates are Chip and Torianna, because this is something they would, I think, both end up doing, immediately regretting, and mutually swearing never to speak of ever again (though I have to wonder if Fraall, who enjoys flotting with them both, would've mentioned it by now if they had).

Now, I am not asking for an answer (unless my assessment is correct), but how would you feel about humoring me with a clue, namely between which episodes this regrettable encounter has occured?

Hmmmnnn...

Berit & Ian put a few things in Life With Althaar here and there that are... not exactly just to amuse ourselves, but as we've said, as flavor. Though it is also to amuse ourselves. And we've often wondered if any of our listeners will "figure [this background running gag] out."

But we've never actually discussed how to respond if someone does figure out one of our silly things, or comes close enough to want or warrant hints.

Like... the one thing that a certain set of non-recurring characters have in common (which, if you noticed it, would allow you to predict certain things about events involving these characters immediately upon their being introduced).

Or... the [who/what] that is quoted in every episode of Season Three (granted, there are quotes galore in all episodes, we just decided after randomly quoting the same source in 3.01 and 3.02 that we'd keep it up for the season and see if anyone noticed).

But the past "secret" relationship is considerably less random, and while not originally conceived for the show, happened organically in the writing and acting and helped in creating a dynamic between the characters that just felt right.

It is not Chip and Torianna. Though your thoughts on the "why" for them make perfect sense, and it's absolutely in character for them to have had that happen as you laid out (both Chip and Torianna have somewhat long histories and numbers of past brief unsuccessful love affairs). Alt-Universe slash-fic writers, have at it if you like! But in canon Althaariverse, nope, didn't happen. It certainly would fit a number of classic sitcom tropes, but no.

As to Frall's take on it if it had happened, yeah, they might give both parties grief about it, but I like Berit's idea that Frall wouldn't explicitly hassle Chip about the relationship specifically, but if it had happened, that would be the reason behind Frall's constantly flotting with Chip (since Torianna is Frall's closest friend, insofar as an inexplicable, nigh-omnipotent energy being has friends). Frall's actual reasons for needling Chip are, of course, thoroughly Frall-ish and inscrutable.

As to hints to what we have layered in...

It didn't happen between episodes. It happened before the show begins. Years before, in fact.

It was not a one-night-stand, but actual open dating for a short time. It was not "regrettable," but rather nice and sweet, just, in the end, not really right for either in the longer term. It ended very amicably.

Frall, of course, knows, but would never mention it to either, let alone tease. But some others know too, and it has been whispered about, but it never comes up because it would just not be cool.

There are slight verbal felicities between them they don't allow from many others, if any at all, and both have occasionally mentioned personal idiosyncrasies of the other that a friend might know, but an ex would be more likely to.

And that's enough hints. Too many? Is it obvious now?

Personally, as one of us two creators has old flames, preceding our 23 years together, who we remain close to, with no weirdness or tensions, we thought it was a nice, real dynamic that actually happens in our world that isn't so often found in the sitcom form (pace Chloe and James in our beloved Don't Trust the B---- in Apt. 23), and wanted to explore it, quietly.

Thanks for asking!

#life with althaar #gemini collisionworks #audio drama #podcast #science fiction #behind the scenes #questions #answered #we should maybe give out prizes #but what?

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i-did-not-mean-to · 1 year

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Fic-year in review

Thank you @cilil for tagging me. I've taken some days so think about it...so, here we go.

Rules

post the top 5 works you're most proud of that you released in 2022 (not necessarily your most popular)

your top 4 current WIPs that you're excited to release in the new year

your top 3 biggest improvements in your writing over the past year

your top 2 resolutions (ways you wish to improve your writing/blog) for the new year,

and your number 1 favorite line you've written this year!

Tagging: @lordoftherazzles, @laurfilijames, @last-capy-hupping, @lathalea, @polutrope, @cuarthol, @heilith, @mismaeve, @scyllas-revenge and everyone else who wants to do this. (Again, I've tagged a few people who I think might tag all the others :) )

Five works I'm proud of

The Silm/Hobbit crossover because it shows the change I've undergone this year. (Maglor & Ori)

Sic vita est because it is - in my opinion - one of the best representations of who I am as a writer. (genderbent Fëanorians, multi-ship)

Some say the world will end in fire because it was one of the hardest things I've ever written. (In-universe Russingon with a twist)

Blood because it is very different from what I usually write as well. (Vampire Elves)

Song as old as rhyme because it proves that I can update and adapt my HCs and the way I write characters according to new stuff I wanted to try out.

Four new WIPs I am excited to release next year

My (as of yet) untitled MSV fic (I am sweating bullets over it, but I am giving it my best shot)

My art exchange fic with @sortumavaara (Glorestor)

My calendar fic for @frosticenow's calendar event

Different Disney/Musical AUs where I don't know yet which one will make the cut. Depends on how I feel and what people would want to see the most.

Top three improvements

I've taken part in about every event I could get my hands on and I've worked hard on overcoming (or at least challenging) my profound fear of being impertinent by being everywhere all the time.

I don't know if that is an improvement (some people might disagree), but I've taken on a whole slew of new characters. I now write canon x canon, LGBTQ+, queer smut, and an alarming number of elves and Valar.

I have ventured into new (and sometimes uncomfortable) styles, genres, tropes this year. I've dared trying to write some really explicit smut and some profound angst for example.

Top two resolutions

Actually finishing something (really, I just want to bring 1! of my longfics to a close without it fizzling out, lol)

Furthering my nefarious AU propaganda...and maybe letting people in on a broader All-Tolkien (timeline what timeline) AU where I get to play with ALL my blorbos.

Favourite line

How easy it had been to give up the crown of fire and wrath and hand it over to temperate wisdom instead; he could never have been the king Fingon had become and his ultimate failure to defend the one who had shielded him through perils galore was a proof of his ineptitude too terrible to bear.

(I chose one at random, even though I dare say that my favourite line is probably: I love you)

Masterlist

Ao3

Lots and lots of love from me!

#og post #ask game #IDNMT answers #thank you so much #this is a long one

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abookishdreamer · 2 years

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Writeblr Intro!!!

A quick run down & random facts (lol!):

My name is Paulina. I'm 26 and I’m a fellow Brooklynite!

I'm black (Haitian-American)

Red velvet cake is the best cake out there! No one can convince me otherwise!

I'm an aspiring writer with dreams of being traditionally published one day.

I have too many WIPs to count! (50 or so, to be exact)!

For a potential follower, if you like diverse, nuanced, complex character driven stories with plots galore, I'm your gal!

I'm also a mythology nerd (my fav. being Greek mythology), but I'm interested in learning about other mythologies out there! (Norse, Japanese, Mayan, African, etc...)

Night owl, bibliophile, bookworm- that's ME!

I'd totally wear a book scented perfume!

I love reading YA & Adult books. My go-to genres are contemporary (love, love, love character driven stories that pack an emotional punch! I'm also a sucker for love stories (fav. tropes include, but not limited to- enemies to lovers, best friends to lovers, found family, second chance romance...), literary fiction, historical fiction (pirates, queens, royal intrigue, vikings, major historical events- the world is my oyster!), historical fantasy, fantasy (I love extensive realized worlds!!!), & science fiction (cyborgs, A.I., robots, oh my!)

On this blog, I'll share character profiles, worldbuilding stuff, and snippets of my WIPs. I'm also a fan of reblogging fashion, gorgeous artwork, & other images that I connect with! I'm looking forward to getting to know more people in the writeblr community & hopefully getting more followers as well! My ask box is always open!

Some of my WIPs:

My main WIP is a YA contemporary fantasy series titled Kingdom of Ichor (new & improved title!!!). Think Greek mythology mixed with the TV show Euphoria & a small dash of Gossip Girl. It's a modern retelling or "remix" of Greek myths. Each book will be dual POV, third person. I'm currently working on a 1st draft on the first book- Of Flowers and Darkness, a Hades & Persephone retelling

My Life is a Telenovela!- a standalone YA contemporary following the misadventures of an aspiring screenwriter named Lucia at her performing arts high school in Miami. Her parents are well known telenovela stars.

The Rat Pack- a standalone YA contemporary about five Florida teens (who are best friends) that go on a road trip across the United States before going their separate ways for college.

Gorgeous Gems- a YA contemporary companion series following three sisters (who are also identical triplets!) and their lives in Cleveland, Ohio. The first book will follow the eldest triplet. The title is Shine Bright Like a Diamond!

Kissing in the Dark- a YA historical fiction story following a gay Jewish teenage boy named Max. It takes place in 1969 in NYC against the backdrop of the Stonewall Riots.

The Zenith Chronicles- a YA science fiction trilogy that's set in the futuristic cyberpunk city of Zenith. The first book is gonna be a retelling of Little Red Riding Hood titled Savage Red.

One of my Adult WIPs is about a young Mexican woman who makes the drastic choice to work for a ruthless cartel, bringing forth all her dark & deadly desires. The working title is Sicaria.

#writers on tumblr #aspiring writer #aspiring author #writeblr #writeblr community #new writeblr #new writers on tumblr #writing #writing community #my writing #writers of tumblr

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giantmushyfriend · 4 months

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One thing about me is that I collect special obsessions like they are antiques. Quite literally, you could catch me in an alleyway wearing a trenchcoat like a cartoon villain, except when I open it up the pockets are full of drugs they're full of the oddest assortment of shit. Do you want TV? I have Good Omens out the fucking wazoo, Supernatural if you're feeling a little burry your gays trope, and pirated Dickinson because your girl does not have the money or the will to get an Apple TV subscription. Books? Hell yeah, I work in a bookstore, babes. I have gut-wrenching classical mythology retellings, soft homosexual romances, dragons, lesbians galore, and the occasional Wilde and Austin. Music? I have all Hozier and Hozier adjacent artists that you could even picture. Historical events/archeology? Pockets are stuffed to the BRIM. I've got em' all, however, I am always looking for more. I am a HORDER. I am like a feral little crow that just goes around snagging different pieces of media that I find shiny and neat, and then stuffing them into my metaphorical trenchcoat until I simply collapse in on myself in my inevitable death. That being said, I decided, hey, lets try out Fleabag. I've heard nothing but good things alongside those who were permanently emotionally scarred by it- but even they have said nothing but amazing things. So, I log onto my student Amazon Prime Video, ready to spend my Tuesday binge-watching some British folk be British. Press play and BOOM, flashback. I'm a little taken back, I don't know these people. And yet I'm given this run down of past events, and I'm a little confused. Who are these people? I don't know! But I decide to live, laugh, love and just accept that this is a stylistic choice that I'm oddly okay with. So anyway, I binge that show like it is crack, and decide it is definitely going into the ol' trenchcoat. By the end I am crying so violently that I need to go sit in a church and contemplate what in the fresh fuck I just witnessed because I am in PAIN with that "it'll pass" fuckery that this man just laid on me. Anyway, I go to exit out to the main page for the show and low and behold my eyes are drawn to this little white button that tells me tHAT I'VE BEEN WATCHING SEASON TWO THIS ENTIRE TIME. It wasn't a style choice- I'm just illiterate. So now I'm contemplating watching season one, but I can't handle that pain. I feel like I just underwent a glitch in the matrix.

What do I do?

Do I go back to the church? Because low-key it was a vibe when I was going through it, definitely should have went there after Good Omens, but the last time I went in there and just sat I got this weird look from this one lady and I don't think I can handle that again.

#fleabag #fleabag season 2 #what the fresh hell

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canonmisogynyvictimstournament · 7 months

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PROPAGANDA

STARFIRE (DC COMICS) (CW: Sex Trafficking)

3.) Her original characterization was fairly decent, however it still had her stuck in relationships with men that weren’t very good for her and had overtones of racism with how she was written. Post that her characterization was slowly chipped away at, some writers with harder sledgehammers than others, culminating in current writing where she’s dismissed as “just a fling” to her original counterpart (Dick Grayson) to prop up a different ship (Dick Grayson/Barbara Gordon) and frequently has been used as eye candy in other comics. Simply open the first comic of Red Hood and the Outlaws, which obliterated her personality to make her associate/be subservient to the Red Hood, and you’ll find plenty of panels of her appearing simply for eye candy in the boobs and butt pose for absolutely no reason. This is not the only time she’s been used to cater to the male gaze (I’d argue even in her original context that was part of her appeal) but in this comic she essentially has no personality beyond “i want sex” as her memory of all past events has been erased. She’s essentially just a tool for her male counterparts in the comic to bounce off of, and eye candy to bring more male readers in. She does eventually get more storylines later on, but that doesn’t excuse the bad writing she was put through. Her own solo series also cashes in on her sex appeal, by infantilizing at the same time as drawing her in skimpy outfits + more boobs and butt poses galore to go for the “born sexy yesterday” misogynistic trope.

BUMBLE (WARRIOR CATS) (CW: Domestic Abuse)

1.) Back with another Warriors submission, I bet you’ll be getting a lot from other people too LMAO. Bumble is a kittypet (housecat) who befriends the male protagonist Gray Wing’s girlfriend, Turtle Tail, and lets her stay in her house. This gets Gray Wing all pissy because he’s controlling of Turtle Tail and shares most of the wild/clan cat’s proclivity for looking down upon kittypets. Turtle Tail gets pregnant by another kittypet, Tom, who tries to control her by hiding the fact that humans take away kittens after they’re born. Eventually Bumble comes clean about it so Turtle Tail returns to the forest. Some time later, Bumble is found in the forest seeking refuge because Tom has been physically abusing her, scratching her where the humans can’t see. So, she’s CANONICALLY ACKNOWLEDGED as a domestic abuse victim (unlike Squirrelflight who meets all the textbook signs but the narrative and authors deny it). How do you think our good guy protagonists, i.e. Gray Wing “The Wise” and Turtle Tail, respond to an abuse victim seeking refuge? They tell Bumble to go home, thinking to themselves that she’s fat and soft and therefore would be useless in their group. Bumble stands up for herself and asks to speak with the leaders of the group. One of them asks if Bumble could just get along with Tom better (bro???) and when Bumble says it’s not within her control, the leader suggests being nicer to the humans instead. Another rival leader butts in and verbally abuses Bumble again by ripping into how fat and lazy and useless she would be. Despite Turtle Tail having been friends with Bumble and Bumble had helped her through her own hard times, to Gray Wing’s approval Turtle Tail chooses not to intervene as Bumble is forcibly escorted back to her abuser. But that’s not all. Later Bumble is found in the forest maimed and dying, and it seems likely that Gray Wing’s brother Clear Sky, a male with a long history of violence, is the culprit. Rather than mourn the dying innocent cat, Gray Wing’s primary concern is how other cats might be mean to Clear Sky if they think he’s a murderer, and reassures himself that refusing to help Bumble in her time of need was still the right decision.

2.) I have no idea how she managed to be written so horrifically from an abuse victim and woman (/she-cat I guess) standpoint but here we are. Okay so my memory is a bit fuzzy but basically Bumble was a character in Dawn of the Clans and a close friend to Turtle Tail, a major character, as well as a character who lived close to Tom, an abusive dickhead of a cat. Bumble was largely depicted as just a really sweet cat. Turtle Tail was very briefly the mate of Turtle Tail, but once she got pregnant, he became super violent towards both her and our gal Bumble. Tom actively hid the fact that, once her kits were old enough, Turtle Tail’s kits would probably be taken from her, and made Bumble keep quiet about this too, but Bumble eventually told Turtle Tail the truth, Turtle Tail left and Tom became extremely violent towards Bumble because of this, and was extremely abusive towards her. Eventually, Bumble ran away from him to where Turtle Tail and co were and begged to stay, since the wilderness as a whole was genuinely more safe than being around Tom was. Naturally, this meant kitty xenophobia from cats who had only arrived in that area recently, because everybody was insistent than, since she was a kittypet/house cat, things wouldn’t work out, and even her friend Turtle Tail denied her on this, insisted she was too soft to live in the wild and only sent her towards a cat Bumble wanted to convince because she was absolutely certain she’d be denied. Also our good old protagonist Gray Wing got to spend this scene being all upset about this soft cat wanting to join them to escape an abuser and was all bitter about the fact that Turtle Tail lived with her for a short period of time, and he also got to have a sweet romantic moment with Turtle Tail after denying an abuse victim an escape from her abuser. Also as much as I like Tall Shadow usually she sucked ass in the following scene because she was essentially telling Bumble to go find a way to make peace with Tom as if she was not the one being abused (Bumble pointed out that Tom was the one who would need to make peace for it to happen, not her) and that she should just make life better by going back to being a housecat and being spoiled despite the fact that she was actively at risk with her owners because of Tom. Then she leaves after being threatened by several cats there and is called soft on the way out. The next time she appears she is literally dying, and her death is just a plot device to create a stupid little mystery which is solved in a very stupid way. Also her abuser does continue to be a shithead and for some reason is fully permitted to kidnap his own children but he also gets a heroic death and the only reason I will not rant more about him is because this is too long already. Long story short Bumble deserves the world and everybody who decided not to let her escape her abuser just because they thought she was soft sucks

3.) Is nice to the group of starving, feral wild cats that left the mountains so their friends and family could have more food to eat and befriends one of them to the point of opening her home to her after she leaves the group because the guy she likes is too dumb to notice she likes him and keeps falling for his brother’s love interests.

Unfortunately, because Bumble is a house cat who lives in a house with people and not a Wild and Free cat, this is a grave and horrible crime (luring a wild cat into the safety and comforts of domesticity) and is villainized for the rest of the arc, including for things wildly out of her control

I.E.

Her owners taking in an aggressive male cat that bullies and abuses the two female cats already living there

When Bumble’s friend leaves and goes back to the wild cats, Bumble leaves her home (as the abuse as has gotten worse) to see if she could either get help or have her friend return so the abuse isn’t as bad again)

Bumble eventually dies in the wild because the feral cats all hate her for ‘stealing’ their friend and tricking her into becoming a kittypet for awhile and refuse to help Bumble adjust to wild life or even teaching her how to hunt.

They are littl e to no hard feelings at her death beyond ‘good riddance’ but the aggressive tomcat that chased her out of her home is later regarded with good feelings and regret at such a ‘good, heroic cat’ passing when he dies despite him literally never doing a good or kind thing in his life and actually causing trouble for the wild cats right before dying

#polls #round 4 #week 7 #new #cw sex trafficking #cw domestic abuse

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