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amaranthineghost · 2 months

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BUT I LOVE YOU SO (PLEASE LET ME GO) ( lando norris. )

he loved her, but knew he had to let her go even if it killed him inside. still he left a paper trail back to him.

warnings: heavy angst I suppose

authors note: wrote this with 2 am motivation. it was about time I finally gave you guys some writing after a couple of months of an absence (I sincerely apologize). I was thinking of making this one of the parts of the mini series because it sort of fits what I want to do with it, but i figured since i hadn't put anything out in a while, it'd be its own separate thing <3

part 2 found here

HE LOVED HER with every fiber of his being. every cell in his body lived for her, he told himself. the blood that ran through his veins underneath his tan skin, all the way to his heart that he had so carefully carved to be able to beat for her. she was the center of his life, he thought.

he really thought.

because now, as he sat and watched her through the fingers over his face to hide the incoming tears, he wished he knew what he should've done. because he only knew what to do.

to let her go.

surely, it wasn't easy, it was never going to be. but alas it was inevitable for the lovers to part though at the time, they wished for it to be only shortly. but they were never coming back. they didn't want to believe, but their hearts knew.

it was a long time coming, but nothing could've prepared them for the heartbreak they forced upon themselves. it was like running blindly into the brick wall they had built together.

they didn't ever fight though. that was the one thing they took pride for their relationship, but now they realize it would've been better for petty arguments. because now, they realize they just don't work.

he was social, she was a homebody. he loved the night life, jumping between different clubs across cities he'd drag her to. of course, at the time she didn't mind being pulled into a club every so often, but it wasn't her scene. the media never was.

he knew that. she knew that it was his.

her hands shook with every folded article of clothing, occasionally wiping her nose with the back of her hand as she tried to avoid his figure altogether.

it wasn't like she didn't want him, in fact she needed him. but the relationship was doomed from the start, she knew yet she didn't care because at the time, everything was tunnel-visioned and he was the light at it's end.

her best moments were the ones lived with him, yet also the worst ones too. but she didn't regret it, it shaped them for their future. one where they knew they couldn't be by each other's side.

they knew heartbreak was looming over them, though the possibility of severing their relationship at any given moment didn't dawn on them till blood was pouring out the wound and there was nothing they could do to stop the bleeding.

they wouldn't try to, they knew better than to patch a wound that would never heal. they let it bleed onto the cold floors of their apartment. the one she had to leave.

nothing had happened in the way they had wanted, but when would it ever if everything was always working against them? it was the world versus them and they lost.

they accepted that defeat.

she tried her best to keep her composure as she packed, for whatever thin thread they held onto would snap if she broke down. because they both knew he couldn't leave her if she did, wouldn't let her go.

because she knew he'd give up his career, his dream, in a heartbeat if it had meant he could still hold her at night. he said forever, and he would make it happen.

it sent her over the edge, reliving their relationship as her fingertips creased memories and packed them into a suitcase, each item of clothing holding significance from their relationship. all from the beginning, she'd kept everything, and that wouldn't change.

she broke. she recognized the textures beneath her fingertips before she could look, her favorite dress. her favorite dress that he bought for her for their anniversary. she knew it was over.

as soon as the choked sobs left her lips, the armchair he sat on creaked as he simply stood and walked to console her. his arms wrapped around her shoulders as the warmth of his chest spread across her back, which did nothing but break her heart more.

she pressed her lips against his skin, though not in an intimate manner, but to hide her struggled cries as the tears down her cheeks began to stain his skin with mascara. she gripped his forearm and bicep tightly, leaning her head further against him.

" 'm sorry," she mumbled against his skin, sniffling as she struggled to catch a breath between sobs. she clenched her eyes shut, seeing dizzying shapes underneath her eyelids. she hoped it would stop the tears.

"shh," he shushed as his lips kissed her hair, muffling his words, "i should be sorry."

still he spoke ever so softly to her as the day they'd met and she couldn't help but fold for his tone of voice every time. even when she knew she shouldn't.

" you have nothing to be sorry for, lan..."

"i should've know the media would be too much for you, love." he mumbled against her hair, "i have everything to be sorry for."

"but i handled it." she peeled his arm from her skin, the streaks of black mascara almost making her lips twitch into a smile as it brought back memories. memories of crying-laughing and smearing mascara onto his arms. still, she held his wrist as she turned to face him, yet she didn't step back.

it'd be the last time they would be this close.

but part of him didn't want her to turn around. he loved when her makeup ran down her face as she cried tears of joy, with the bright sun shining down on her, acting as her personal spotlight, because she was the center of attention, with the wind blowing her hair.

he wished he could see her like that one more time before they left for good. because now he stood, resisting the urge to wipe the tears off her face. because now it wasn't happy, it was sullen. he wanted everything to be able to take care of her, to not let her leave. not yet.

he sighed, he had to give in. he always would, he couldn't help himself when he smudged the running mascara off her face, "fuck, that never works, does it?" he muttered in a soft panic as he realized he just made more of a mess.

she chuckled. she loved whenever he lightened the mood, intentionally or not, it was something she could always count on him to do, "every time, lando, every time." she replied through soft chuckles, sighing as she calmed.

he became serious once again as the smile slowly fell from his face and he wiped the black from his fingers, "but really, did you handle it?" he asked lowly, looking down at her with the same, soft look on his face she could always count on, "i know the media really affected you."

she sighed. there was no denying the exhaustion the media and paparazzi caused. they thought they were fine in the bubble of their apartment, but that bubble had long popped.

"you were born to shine, lando." she simply responded to not give him the truth he was expecting to hear, "that's just not me, we both know it."

"i know." he whispered, biting his lip and looking at her with a gloomy expression. he felt regret and guilt, " 'm sorry."

she shook her head, raising her hand to his jaw to trace the bone under his skin, “i know, but we're both at fault here. we should've known it wouldn't've worked out."

it hurt for them to hear, but it needed to be said, and he would've never said it. it was the truth.

she sniffled, backing away with the realization of how close they had become as she wiped away stray tears and turned back to the half-packed suitcase on the bed they once shared.

he watched her face as her eyes scanned the still heaps of clothing left for her to take, and boxes needing to be filled, "do you want some help?" he offered, his hand grabbing the back of her arm, caressing the skin as she jumped slightly at the contact.

she sighed and said through an awkward chuckle, "please," she reached again for clothes to resume her packing, " 'm afraid i'll change my mind if i stay too much longer."

her words hurt, like daggers slicing through his skin. another wound they couldn't heal.

"would it be that bad?"

his response hurt more. she hadn't meant it like that, but words were subjective. it was like he had taken the knife from beneath his flesh and twisted back into hers.

"no, lan, i didn't mean it like that-" she dropped the shirt she held to place a hand on his bicep, which he shrugged off.

" 'ts fine," he spoke without a tone in his voice, which was odd for him. His focus was on her clothes in his hands and somewhat neatly packed away into one of her many suitcases.

"but i just meant-"

"listen, 'ts fine, we aren't together anymore so we don't have to fix things, or try to."

she squirmed under the dagger as it twisted deeper into her flesh. the air was tense, too silent for her liking and his new attitude threw her off.

it made her realize that maybe there was something more to them that didn't work. because surely any two people who loved each other would make it work out.

it didn't make sense though. maybe it never would.

after a few minutes of uncomfortable silence between them where the only sound was folding of cloth and zipping up certain spots in her suitcase, he turned his back and left the room.

she watched him leave from the corner of her eye, but she didn't stop him. she wanted to though. she wanted so desperately to grab him by the arm and force him to talk to her, but she wouldn't. he was right. they weren't dating.

besides they couldn't even fix what they had before.

minutes later he reemerged with a hand stuffed in his hoodie pocket and another behind his back with something he hid from her. she couldn't get a peak before he slipped it into one of the boxes. she shrugged it off as something she had forgotten.

he returned to helping her fold, but this time with his back towards her. it pained her, she didn't want him to turn his back on her, yet in a couple of hours, she would walk through their apartment door, her back turned to him. it was unfair, she knew.

the tears this time were silent as they streamed down her face, but she didn't make a sound. she watched his actions for a solid five minutes, seeing his best attempts folding her clothes, for her. he was never the best at it, as she had poked fun at him for it in the past. it hurt to think she would never see the difference of neatness in her closet anymore.

her attention was piqued when she saw his movement halt, quickly resuming with a messily put-together hoodie, one she didn't recognize to be hers.

she didn't get to look before he flipped back the top and zipped it up to go with the others.

she didn't have time to wipe the fresh tears from her face when he turned around after pulling the suitcase from the bed. he paused, dropping the handle.

in a swift motion, he pulled her into his chest. she couldn't stop herself from breaking down in his arms, his hand wrapped around her head, the other around her back. they stayed silent, apart from her sobs into his shirt. he didn't care if she ended up staining it.

they swayed for a while, longer than they should've, but at least now she had calmed down. though tears still streaming down her face and a headache forming in her head, they pulled apart slightly.

her hair was messy, her nose, cheeks, eyes and lips were red, her eyes were puffy and tears stained her face, but she was still prettier than ever.

he couldn't help but tuck the hair in front of her face behind her ear, his hand resting on her jaw.

for the last time, they kissed.

to him, it was like he was taking his last breath of air, or gulp of water for the rest of his life. he was taking what he could.

the taste of her salty tears, the wetness from her cheeks now on his, the hands in her messy hair pushing her desperately closer because he didn't want to let her go.

they sighed when they parted, his teeth grazing her bottom lip at a desperate attempt for more. more time.

they both stepped back, staying silent once again. they didn't have anything to say because their actions said it all. he stepped back to the suitcase he dropped and started moving them out to her car, which had considerably more trunk space than any of his.

it felt like when she was first moving out for college, with stacks of boxes and plenty of suitcases to make it seem like she was fleeing the country.

it all ended the second she walked out the door, but she didn't have to turn her back on him as he walked her to her car, opening the door.

one last hug between them. the last contact.

but they still followed each other's lives.

she would watch his races from the comfort of her new living room couch because she still worried about him the same amount from when they were dating. she noticed his suffering performance, though she sighed every time he crossed the finish line unscathed.

part of him knew she was watching for him.

he still followed her private accounts, liking the posts of the lifestyle that he could never live. it just wasn't his to experience, just like his was never hers to live either. most nights spent drunk in the dj booth, or out to dinner with other drivers, the social life had never been her scene.

he knew.

he knew all along that it was never going to end as they wished in the moment. they stared at their future without fully knowing what was waiting, yet they didn't step down.

months had passed. their lives were supposed to have gotten better, but they could both see they were both suffering.

boxes still unpacked from when she first left, she had never gotten around to fully moving in. still suitcases and cardboard boxes laid around the kitchen of her new apartment.

she felt like she should open them, like she needed to. if not now, would she ever?

boxes full of old memories from her childhood, or stuffed animals she had always convinced lando to buy for her. until there was one box left untouched. she hadn't remembered packing this one.

carefully, she sliced the tape and pulled back the cardboard. she was speechless.

his race helmet. his race helmet he dedicated to her.

dedicated for the anniversary of the day they met. for the race of the country where their eyes first found each other.

it had details about her. her favorite colors, places, things. it had her name, big enough to see from a while away.

he loved this helmet. and he gave it to her.

all she could do now was hug the last remainder of him and cry. she wasn't sure if letting him go was the right or wrong decision, but it felt wrong to question it now.

when she pulled away from the helmet and sniffling her nose, she noticed a piece of paper lodged into the visor. carefully, she pulled it out, unfolding it to see the familiar and horrible handwriting of lando norris.

she was lucky she learned to read it over the years or she would've been screwed.

blue suitcase. for when you're ready.

out of all of the suitcases she had taken, only one was blue. the one he had packed.

she hastily picked herself off the floor, carefully setting the helmet down on the kitchen counter before dropping back down on her knees and desperately unzipped it.

she tossed through every pocket and article of clothing packed into the suitcase, inspecting every single item. until she found it.

of course, he had given her one of his hoodies, but it was not just any of his hoodies. once again, a favorite of his he wore regularly. he gave it to her. it smelled like him still. curse him for spraying cologne on it.

she felt the fabric beneath her fingertips before slipping it on. a smile crept onto her lips as she went and sat back down on her couch, the TV had been playing FP3 in the background before quali in a couple hours time.

she pulled her blanket back over her, slipping her hands into the pockets. her brows furrowed when she felt yet another piece of paper, pulling it out to reveal even more horrendous handwriting from her beloved racer.

will let me know you're watching?

any day now love.

when the nights get lonely, i'll be waiting.

whenever you're ready.

i miss you, i'm sorry

ynusername

liked by landonorris and 4037 others

ynusername I don't know if i'm ready for this...

comments have been disabled...

proofread by @foreveralbon <333

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boiohboii · 8 months

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Vigilante Shit 《pt.1》

(max verstappen x ricciardo!reader)

Yn Ricciardo is a familiar face for every formula 1 fan, having known her since she was 10 years old as she joined her brother in the paddock over the years, she leads quite a normal life as a normal college student with her boyfriend.. well, as normal as it can be

in which yn ricciardo gets through her first heartbreak by the help of her brother's teammate?

N.B: the summary isn't the best tbh... this small series (i think 4 or 5 parts maximum) is inspired by taylor swift's reputation and midnight albums (2 of my all time favourite albums)... I hope you guys like it! Also I left a hidden message for where this is going in here, so let me know your theories in the comments, thank you for reading ♥️♥️ °ps: don't worry, pt2 of the cillian x fem driver reader is coming very soon° WARNINGS: very short, not proof read, swear words, smoking and drinking (mentioned and in pics), 5 year age gap, if I missed anything else please let me know

faceclaim: jenna ortega

masterlist

Liked by jakesven, danielricandynric, ynswife and 89,618 others

DannyRicUpdates: YN Ricciardo gone wild?? The 20 year old was seen tody smoking and drinking right before the Italian GP (not really a hot look, the youngest riccardo looks sick and tired). yn is known as quite the lovely and good girl, her older brother always supports her and takes her travelling whenever her studies allow while she has a lovely boyfriend back home who is always waiting for her with open arms(as documented through hers and Daniel's social media) so what could possibly push her to waste her life away?

ynric: this is ridiculous, first of i am 20 I can drink in Europe and second it's non of your fucking business you dickheads

Liked by danielricciardo, landonorris, maxverstappen1 and 183,627 others

ynric: Tous les mêmes, tous les mêmes, tous les mêmes

username: the only 20 year old that looks like an actual 20 year old

username: now hold up, the first picture of her and jake was captioned with not all men... now she has this caption after 3 weeks of no jake

username: you might be onto something

username: I see where this is going and I don't like it

Liked by Dannyandyn, mickschumacher, danielricciardo and 126,819 others

ynric: I regret you all the time

username: soooo, jake fucked up huh...

username: tous les mêmes indeed

username: fucking hell man

username: no cause y'all remember that video where yn and jake answered some questions and he said that he doesn't think she'd look good in short hair and that he thinks dark colors and black doesn't suite her

username: thank fuck they broke up, like sure I hate that she had to get hurt but she can only go up from here

~liked by danielricciardo~

Liked by danielricciardo, Charles_Leclerc, ynric and 1,927,048 others

maxverstappen1: I like it 🤷‍♂️🤷‍♂️

username: max listening to Taylor swift was not on my 2023 bingo card wtf

username: no cause why did he choose the one song that had shit in the title

username: no cause yn having the caption from would've, could've, should've and now max suddenly listens to a song from the same album

username: coincidence? I THINK THE FUCK NOT

username: not him having the song on repeat 😂😂

part 2

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avatar-anna · 2 months

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Pale Green Stripes

The Professor Masterlist

this takes place during The Professor Series!

"Did you know you're the only person who never tries to interrupt me?"

"What do you mean?"

Harry and Y/n lay on the carpeted floor of her townhouse. Their shoulders touched, but that was about it. Even so, Harry could feel that tiny bit of contact throughout his entire body. The professor probably had a word for that, a scientific term to explain why just the slightest graze—not even skin against skin—sent him into a tailspin that made him have to focus extra hard on what she said.

Y/n's hands knotted together on her lap, a thing she did when she held herself back. It was as if she had to physically restrain herself some way to keep her from speaking out of turn. Harry personally never thought she did, from their first meeting at the bookstore, he'd been fascinated by her, by the things she said.

"I don't mean to...impart information on people the way that I do. It just happens sometimes," she said, her eyes gazing up at the ceiling.

Harry knew he probably should've too, but he couldn't help but look at the professor instead. Her hair fanned out around her shoulders, she wore a string of pearls around her neck and earrings made to look like Salvador Dalí's melting clocks in her ears. Her jewelry was always a mix of something professional and a little quirky, Harry came to realize, as if even at work as a professor at Cambridge University she couldn't help but have a little fun.

Her wardrobe consisted of patterned socks and cherry red Adidas shoes and fun knitted sweaters and vests. Today she merely wore a cozy navy blue sweater and a flowy white skirt, her red shoes were on a rack by the door, but she still wore her ruffled socks with embroidered roses on them.

"I don't mind it at all," he replied honestly.

Y/n blinked a couple times, then said, "I know. I was surprised at first because everyone usually cuts me off. Or walks away."

Harry frowned. He couldn't help but notice how clinically the professor spoke about the hurtful things that had been done to her. By her family, so-called colleagues, the few friends she had at work. He couldn't fathom anyone finding Y/n anything less than wonderful. She was brilliant, yes, but funny, and charismatic, and had a knack for storytelling. Harry never wanted her to stop talking. Ever.

"I like listening to you," he told her, shrugging as best he could given his current prone position.

"That's probably because you never finished school and are trying to make up for lost time."

From anyone else, that would've been a joke, a jab, but Y/n took education seriously, had mentioned it numerous times since they met.

Still, Harry chuckled. "Maybe I just like the sound of your voice. Maybe I just like hearing what you have to say. Maybe I find your lectures highly arousing."

"Edward!"

Even as he laughed with her, Harry couldn't help but feel guilty. He knew he should tell her, he should've told her months ago. His middle name fired out of his mouth before he could think the first time Y/n asked him for his name. A desire for anonymity, that was all it was. He didn't think he'd see her again outside the one time, so he thought it would be harmless. Then they did keep meeting, and he didn't have the guts to tell her, and now he was too deep in the lie to find a way out.

"What?"

Harry had never been shy about his attraction to the professor, even if he'd only seen half of her face due to the mask she wore. There was so much to appreciate about her, so much to admire, and he let his own imagination do the rest. He could've, of course, looked her up online. Y/n had mentioned something about posting educational videos online, but he thought it was only fair that if she didn't know what his entire face looked like that he didn't either.

"Why do you say stuff like that?" she asked, and even without the mask, Harry could tell she was blushing.

"Like what?"

"About me. About—about your attraction to me and how you find me—or think I'm a—"

"Yes?" Harry encouraged. He could tell there was a word or phrase she had in mind but was too embarrassed to use.

"In the 16th Century, the word bellibone was first used. It's derived from French etymology using the words belle and bonne to describe a woman who excels in both beauty and goodness. There's really only one known use in the late 1500s. A poet named Edmund Spenser, though he was from Ireland. It's fascinating how a word can be used once then ceases to exist, don't you think?"

Harry blinked, not totally prepared for the tangent, though perhaps he should've been. Grinning beneath his mask, he said, "I think it describes you perfectly."

"Edward," Y/n said, now her neck was flushed too.

"Does it make you uncomfortable?" he asked. "The compliments? The—" He might as well call it what it was—"flirting?"

"N—No."

"Because I'll stop if it does," he promised. "I just think you should know how devastating you are."

One of the professor's eyebrows quirked up in confusion. "That was an interesting choice in adjective."

But it was the perfect one. Harry knew he couldn't be with Y/n the way he wanted when she didn't know the truth about who he was, and he couldn't risk losing her if he finally told her. Perhaps it was unfair to play at something he knew he couldn't have, but part of him wanted Y/n to know that she was desirable, that she was more than what her intellect offered. Sure, Harry found her intelligence sexy as all get out, but she was also beautiful, and funny, and kind, and he didn't think anyone had ever complimented more than just her brain.

He would spend an entire day complimenting her if he had the time, or if she let him.

But while Y/n was confident in many things, romantic feelings weren't one of them. Despite the obstacles he put in his own way, Harry didn't think the professor was quite ready to hear how much he really liked her.

"Tell me something."

"Like what?" Y/n asked.

"Anything," Harry said, facing her and propping his head in his hand. "A book you read, something that fascinates you, your least favorite student, anything."

She narrowed her eyes at him as she positioned her body to face his. "I don't have a least favorite student."

"I don't believe you," he replied, narrowing his eyes back playfully.

Y/n scanned his face, then up and down his body. It was casual, though Harry noticed that her gaze lingered in places—his arms, his shoulders, his face. He wore a mask, but he tried to suppress his grin anyway. Then, before he could tease her more, her eyes lit up.

"Did you know the stripe pattern originated in the Middle Ages?"

He never knew, but she always prefaced her information the same way. "Did it?"

Nodding to the green striped shirt Harry wore, she said, "Stripes were used to identify social outcasts. Prostitutes, criminals, hangmen, clowns and jugglers; they all had to wear stripes so they were easily recognizable in regular society."

"Clowns?"

"Outcasts and people who were...not society's favorites, like court jesters and such. European governments even legalized the requirement of certain citizens to wear stripes. Though now, of course, stripes are popular due to Coco Chanel wearing a striped shirt similar to French sailor uniforms, which, you know, sailors were also usually the lowest rank of the French navy. Then stripes began appearing in women's activewear in the 1920s, Al Capone began wearing pinstriped suits, and the rest is history. A long, brutal history, obviously, seeing as prisoners were later forced to wear striped uniforms, and prisoners in concentration camps during World War Two, but—there you have it. A brief, slightly detailed history of the stripe."

Harry looked down at his long sleeved shirt, the thin pale green and white striped that lined his arms and torso. "Not sure if I'll be able to wear stripes again, but... that's really fascinating."

"Thought you might like that," Y/n said with a shrug.

Harry tilted his head questioningly. "Why do you say that?"

"You like clothes."

He didn't question how she knew that. With her background, Y/n seemed to know things about him that she just happened to observe. It was a little disconcerting at first, but he came to appreciate that he didn't have to pretend around her. No airs, no personas, none of the things he'd become so accustomed to in recent years. The professor might not have known about Harry's career, but she knew him in ways no one else did.

"Well," he said, playfully sighing at his shirt. "Guess I'm never wearing stripes again."

Y/n's eyes squinted and her mask scrunched a little, the way they always did when she smiled. With an unmistakable glint in her eye, the adorable one she always got when Harry indulged in her. "Wait until you hear about polka dots!"

Harry sighed, a mix of exasperation and amusement making him chuckle a little. "Tell me more, love."

#harry styles #harry styles x professor y/n #harry styles x professor yn #harry styles blurb #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfic #harry styles oneshot #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x you #harry styles fluff #harry styles writing #harry styles one shot #harry styles fic

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riddlerosehearts · 4 months

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thinking about how people who watch the emperor's new groove and somehow come out of it shipping pacha and kuzco, or thinking yzma only became evil when kuzco fired her and that she would've been a better ruler than him, are both so wrong in so many different ways and are also missing one of the things that i absolutely love about the movie. which is that, the way i see it, pacha and yzma are counterparts. as parental figures to kuzco.

like, just to get this out of the way first, yzma was a dismissive asshole to a peasant whose family was starving. and yeah, if kuzco had been in her place he definitely would've also done that, which... is why she would not be a better ruler than him. she'd just be the same because they're both horrible people in the exact same ways. her reaction to being fired is to plot murder, and as soon as his funeral is over she sets everyone to work on replacing paintings of kuzco with paintings of herself and covering the palace with imagery that makes it clear that it's all about her now. i'm not even sure why this is a discussion tbh.

and also, kuzco is literally a teenager. he's barely 18 years old. source: in the movie, yzma says at his funeral that kuzco was "taken from us so tragically on the very eve of his eighteenth birthday." she also claims in the movie to have "practically raised" him, to which kronk replies "yeah, you'd think he would've turned out better". and sure, she could be exaggerating, but what evidence do we have that she is? we learn absolutely nothing of his parents, who are never mentioned even once in the movie, or of anyone else who could've raised him, and she's his advisor who for some reason sees no problem with attending to royal duties in his place. most likely because she's his regent. also, i'm not exactly a fan of the sequel tv series "the emperor's new school" but it does have something that backs up my point: kuzco is revealed to be an orphan and just before his father went and got lost at sea, he asked yzma (who was also his advisor) to take care of kuzco if anything happened to him. so, yeah, the writers who worked on the series clearly thought that yzma genuinely did raise kuzco, and nothing in the movie contradicts this.

and i find the idea of her being his only parental figure for pretty much his whole childhood incredibly interesting because, and this also goes back into why she wouldn't be a better ruler than him--she mirrors him as a reflection of what would've become of him if he'd never met pacha. they're both incredibly arrogant, power-hungry, selfish, and cruel, with a tendency to blame their problems on everyone but themselves. yzma was even originally going to have her own reprise of kuzco's theme song "perfect world", which i really wish had been kept:

[ID: Lyrics that read:

I'Il be the sovereign queen of the nation And the chicest chick in creation I'm the cat with all the cream and ooh-la-la This deadly concentration Will put an end to my frustration Now this perfect world begins and ends with moi

What's my name? Yzma, Yzma, Yzma Yzma (what's my name?) Yzma, Yzma (What'd you say?) Yzma (Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!) Yzma. End ID]

(this song can be fully heard in "the sweatbox", the documentary about the making of the movie, and is also on youtube btw)

anyway, i'm sure yzma would not exactly have been the most nurturing or hands-on guardian, especially given that she and kuzco don't exactly treat each other like family. but it makes a lot of sense to think that her behavior influened kuzco's throughout the years. and for the entire movie, she remains determined to kill him. when he tries to reason with her and admits that he should've been nicer, she says the same thing to him that he originally said when he fired her. she never grows or changes and in the end, she hurts the one person who was willing to stand by her (and even then, kronk had never fully been on board with her plan) and he ends up trying to crush her with a chandelier. kuzco on the other hand is able to realize the error of his ways, come to regret who he was in the past, and start taking steps toward being a better person. his theme song gets a reprise where it's changed from a song about one person being the center of the world to a Power Of Friendship song. why? because, as i've already mentioned, he has pacha.

pacha, who similarly to both yzma and kuzco is in a position of authority as the leader of the village but unlike either of them is gentle and humble. who isn't afraid to stand up to kuzco and be honest with him even though he's the emperor, who agrees to take him back to the palace but has no obligation to be so helpful, kind, and caring toward him--and just about every reason not to be--and still chooses to be anyway. pacha who is 45 years old (also stated in the sweatbox documentary) and can see that kuzco is practically still a kid, not a single day over 18, who has time to grow and change. pacha, who already has a wife and two kids with another on the way, but practically treats kuzco like one of his own. who acknowledges that if kuzco dies all his problems will be gone and then still worries about him and goes out of his way to rescue him after he wanders into the jungle. who sees kuzco shivering at night and covers him with his poncho, who carries him when he's genuinely too weak to keep walking, who refuses to give up on him even after repeatedly being betrayed by him because he believes there's good in everyone.

also, while yzma ends up repeating kuzco's harsh words of dismissal as she tells him of her plans to kill him, kuzco had previously repeated pacha's words that "nobody's that heartless" after he saved pacha's life. and as the movie progresses kuzco and pacha's relationship becomes more and more equal and is constantly contrasted by moments of yzma being cruel and unappreciative of kronk's kindness. a good example of this is how kronk is constantly being forced to carry yzma everywhere on his back while yzma literally walks all over him and steps on his hands when she gets down, whereas when pacha briefly carries kuzco after the latter collapses he tells him he'll have to walk the rest of the way later and kuzco doesn't even protest.

idk if i'm even explaining well what i'm trying to say here. but basically, if yzma actually raised kuzco and contributed to his current behavior, then she and pacha both are figures who guided him and helped him grow. only yzma helped him become the tyrant that he was at the start of the movie, who was selfish and callous and saw everyone else as beneath him. whereas pacha helped him see the value in being selfless and considerate of others. and in the end, yzma is stuck as a cat and nobody is concerned about her. kronk has found a new job that makes him genuinely happy, while kuzco has decided to build a hut on the hill next to pacha's and effectively joined his family. in the sweatbox documentary it's even mentioned that chicha and the kids were at risk of being removed from the film, but it was decided that they needed to be there because having just pacha as a single guy who lived alone wasn't interesting enough--kuzco needed to go from having basically an empty world where he had nobody to being able to come together with pacha's whole family. and i just think that's incredibly satisfying and beautiful. it also leads up to one of the few things i really do enjoy about the emperor's new school, which is the fact that during the show kuzco moves in with pacha and chicha and pretty explicitly thinks of them as basically his parents while he's like a son to them.

idk. i feel like my mind went in a million different directions while i was writing all this. but i guess i just think that for all of the praise the emperor's new groove gets for its comedy and for how hilarious yzma and kronk in particular are as a duo, the movie also has a lot of genuine heart that gets overlooked. kuzco's character growth and his unique dynamic with pacha is, for me, really what elevates the movie from just a funny movie that i like to one of my favorite disney movies. and i wish more people appreciated that aspect of it and saw it as a found family story in the same way that treasure planet, brother bear, and lilo and stitch are all found family stories.

#disney #the emperor's new groove #help i wrote a whole essay about this movie #and i didn't even mention how much i love the way kuzco's home life is contrasted with pacha's #ugh. they have one of the most interesting and unique dynamics ever in a disney movie. i love them #love how kuzco gets away from yzma's toxic influence by way of accidentally being adopted #by the guy whose village he almost destroyed for a theme park #they're ENEMIES to FOUND FAMILY.... sobs #kuzco #pacha #yzma #kronk

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muddyorbsblr · 3 months

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would've could've should've pt1

See my full list of works here!

Part of the 500 Follower Celebration Requested by: Anonymous

Summary: A careless comment from Thor calls into question the stability of your relationship with Loki

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Word Count: 3.5k

Warnings: 18+ | mature themes; the slightest bit of steam toward the beginning; angst; Tony and Thor having a very much "bro" type attitude and not in the good way; hinting at Reader's emotional baggage; the slightest mention of human experimentation [let me know if I missed anything!]

Things to be aware of: established but private/secret relationship; Reader's baggage will be explained further in part 2

There was something rather peaceful in the routine you and Loki had settled into when either of you came back from a mission. Decompressing the night before the debriefing care of Rogers that you took bets on how long this one would last. And whoever won would get to pick where to get takeout from on your next indoor date night.

Your last mission was particularly stressful, nearly losing a limb from triggering a booby trap while retrieving intel about potential human experimentation from a HYDRA base. The second Nat mentioned that little tidbit in passing while you were unpacking your equipment from the mission, the god left the common area, raiding the pantry for a selection of your favorite snacks, and queueing up one of your comfort movies.

The one about a woman that hit her head and found herself stranded in a romantic comedy only to realize that her best friend, the one that had been in front of her all this time, was her great love all along.

When you got to your apartment, Loki was already there with the movie ready to play on the screen, and he even went the extra step to open and plate the snacks on the coffee table in your living room for easier access. And the cherry on top of it all was that he brought over one of his sweaters for you to change into, something he'd been doing more and more ever since you mentioned how comfortable they were during one of your missions together where you'd shared a suite.

"You know, I'm pretty sure they're watching the same movie outside," you mentioned, speaking around the wafer stick you were munching on. "Nat just texted me that she has Netflix power considering how this mission got us stressed out to hell and back. Wanna just watch it outside with the rest of the guys?"

The god shook his head, pulling you closer to him. "If we join them outside, then I would be unable to do this." He tilted your chin up and pressed a soft kiss to your lips. "And this is my favorite part," he mumbled against your skin before proceeding to give you a series of kisses, increasing with passion in each one.

Suddenly whatever was happening in the movie didn't matter to you anymore, an army of butterflies fluttering near violently at your stomach as he wrapped his arm around you and maneuvered your positions until you were straddling him on the couch, your knees on either side of his hips. He kept his hand on your waist, holding you steady while his other hand buried itself in your hair before he licked into your mouth, letting out a decadent sounding moan when your tongues met.

He moved his hand to your lower back, changing your positions once again so that your back was flat on the couch, and he hovered over you and between your legs. You leaned into his touch, losing yourself in his attentions, until his hand moved upward, cupping your breast. That was when you broke the kiss.

"I'm sorry," he panted, immediately moving his hand away once he saw the frantic, panicked look in your eyes. "I got carried away--"

"No, sweetie, I'm sorry," you insisted, placing your hands on his shoulders, and pulling yourself up slightly to kiss him, trying to reassure your boyfriend he did nothing wrong. "It's just…I want to be ready, really, I do. And I know it's frustrating for you it's just that…every time we take a step in that direction something in me starts running and cowering in a corner, it's not fair to you that--"

"Please don't apologize, darling, you have nothing to be sorry for." He righted your positions on the couch, delicately stroking your hair and giving you a soft peck on your lips before he stood, offering you his hand. "I think we could both benefit from cooling off a bit. Would you like to join the others outside?"

Despite having offered it yourself just a few minutes earlier, your stomach dropped when the tables had turned, knowing that you'd put a stop to something that could have turned out completely mind-blowing and possibly even life changing. Only thing was, when you reached the peak of a relationship, that was it.

The only way forward was down.

"You go ahead," you told him, walking toward your bedroom. "I'll just change into my sweats first…so no one asks questions."

By some miracle, no one on the team had caught on yet that you two had started seeing each other and had been in a relationship for the better part of the year. And neither of you seemed to be itching to burst your little bubble of privacy quite yet, knowing that the second the team knew, Wanda and Nat would be down your throat with questions practically begging for every detail. And Thor would be doing much of the same for his brother.

At least that was the story you tried to tell yourself. It was better than what that little voice in your head tried to scream at you every time he didn't take the seat next to you. Or when he'd drop your hand and take a few steps back the second he heard someone rounding the corner.

Loki gave you a strained smile, starting to walk toward your front door. "I'll see you outside then." Before you could reach your bedroom, he called out to you. "I love you, little mortal."

You blinked back the tears that were threatening to come out, looking back at him with a contrived smile of your own. "I love you, too, Mischief."

A good few minutes passed before you exited your apartment, the movie paused on the TV and a rather lively discussion being had among your teammates. Something about Barnes' new girlfriend.

"Oh good you're here, jellybean, welcome to the circus," Tony greeted you, jutting his chin toward the empty seat next to Wanda. "Need your input on something."

Instead of taking the seat, you walked over to the bar to pour yourself a glass of wine. You had a feeling you were gonna need it. On your way there, you spotted Loki seated near his brother, giving you a minuscule smile and a tiny wave of his hand.

"Go ahead, I'm listening," you called out.

"Stark's trying to tell me the woman I'm seeing isn't all that interested in me because she doesn't want to spend the night," Bucky started. "Said she's just with me for the aesthetic of dating me, whatever backwards 21st Century nonsense that is. I'm trying to tell the rest of these horn dogs that maybe she's just not ready yet. Good things take time. Flowers need to blossom--"

"Sarge, don't ever say that line again, it's so cheesy you'll attract rats in here," you shot back, pointing your finger at the soldier before turning toward Stark. "That said though…I'm with Bucky on this one, Stark. Maybe she's just not ready yet I mean…not everyone's ready to drop trou and put out so easily, you know. How long have you been dating this girl anyways?" You turned back to Bucky as you asked the question.

"Three weeks? Give or take?"

"Dammit Stark, it's only been three weeks, give our boy some time." You made a show of facepalming before you picked up your glass, plopping down next to Wanda who immediately rested her head on your shoulder.

"They've been at this for the last ten minutes," she groaned. "Wake me when they put the movie back on." Meanwhile, you clocked Nat next to her, not so subtly massaging her temples in an attempt to calm herself down. You shared the feeling; this was such a common sense discussion it shouldn't have lasted thirty seconds.

"Well then perhaps you could provide some insight for another situation, Lady Y/N," Thor boomed from across the floor, swatting his brother's hand away when he tried to get the blond Asgardian to stop.

"Brother you really need not--"

"Nonsense. Lady Y/N seems knowledgeable on how timetables and relations between mortals work, perhaps she'll finally give the perspective I have been seeking."

Your boyfriend shot you a look, as if he was already embarrassed by what his brother was about to say, piquing your curiosity even more. "I'm all ears, Thunder. Ask away."

"My brother has been seeing a mortal woman for the better part of the last Midgardian year. My best estimate…eight moons," he began, your stomach once again dropping at the realization that he was about to ask your insight about…yourself. You gave him a motion to go on, placing your glass on the table to hide the way your hand had begun to shake. "And while it has been as you here on Midgard would say 'like pulling teeth' trying to get him to divulge any detail about her, something I have surmised is that she also seems unwilling to spend the night with him. Yet he claims they love each other."

"Yikes, tough break, Reindeer Games!" Tony winced. "My two cents? You're not just on the same boat with Barnes over here, you're the goddamn captain of the ship. Go on, jellybean, tell him."

"I-I…" you stuttered, your heart thundering in your chest from unwittingly having been placed on the proverbial hot seat. "Maybe she just…wants to be sure, you know? I mean…I don't know how y'all do it in Asgard but here, with some people, being intimate is…something m-more than physical."

You could see from where you sat that the raven-haired god's fingers were twitching, his leg bouncing as if he wanted to stand up and leave the room. You pretty much wanted out of this, too.

Thor waved off your explanation. "I completely disagree. That amount of time passed, I believe one should be sure lest she be wasting both of their time. Brother, much as I can tell you love this mortal, it is my expert opinion, which I believe will be backed by the men in this room, that your mortal woman does not love you. This is, as our genius friend Stark has stated earlier, all for the optics of having you at her arm."

It was getting impossible to breathe. How dare he say that about you right in your face like this? Thinking he knew everything there was to know about your relationship just because he was in one of his own?

"You know not the first thing about her, Brother," Loki hissed, speaking through his teeth as if he was readying himself to strike.

"I know enough," the blond Asgardian shot back dismissively. "You know I think the world of you, Brother, and after everything you've endured, you deserve every bit of happiness this universe will grant you." He clapped his hand on Loki's shoulder. "If this mortal shares not this sentiment, then perhaps your time is better spent elsewhere."

"He's right, Mischief," you choked out, your voice so small you were surprised it even traveled that far that it had everyone looking to you. "Maybe you are wasting your time with this one…you know, if she's making you wait so long." You stood up abruptly, making Wanda groan in protest when she nearly fell over to the spot you'd just vacated.

In what was probably your most poorly miscalculated decision for the night, you downed your wine in a single gulp, starting to walk back to your apartment.

"Hey where you going, jellybean, you just got here," Tony hollered from his seat. "Come on, I know talking about Frosty the Snowman's nonexistent sex life was a drag, how about we all drop it for now, I'll order some tacos and we can go back to grilling Manchie here."

"Or we could lay off either of us and grill someone else for a change?" Bucky groaned, throwing his human arm over his eyes as he turned his face to the ceiling.

"You know what, you are so right, let's talk about the big guy who has a lot to say about being the resident relationship expert." Stark turned to face Thor. "How is Lady Thunder lately? And how are you with the whole your old hammer chooses her over you thing?"

The conversation faded into a dulled roar in your ears as the wine begun to take what fleeting effect it would have on you, your pulse faintly thumping in your ears as you made your way back to your apartment.

You hadn't even been back two minutes before your door swung open again, the God of Mischief standing at your entryway looking a mix of concerned and distraught. "Darling, I completely apologize for my oaf of a brother, I had no idea he would--"

"It's okay, Loki," you cut him off, throwing your hands up as if to push away the conversation. "Maybe he's on to something, I mean you should be with someone who doesn't take forever and a day to be ready for something like this, maybe we should--"

In an instant, he stood inches away from you, placing his hands on your shoulders in a gentle but firm grasp. "Don't say another word, my love, please." He rubbed his hands up and down your arms in a soothing gesture; whether it was to soothe you or him was beyond you.

"You want more, I get that," you pressed on. "And I can't give that to you--"

"You are all that I want, precious mortal." He leaned in, pressing a desperate kiss to your lips before wrapping his arms around you. "I am already more than content that you've even granted me the honor to know who you are outside of our duties. This is all I need, to be able to love you as I have these past moons."

Tears began to fall from your eyes as your words weighed heavy on your tongue. "I'm sure there's someone out there more than willing to give you what I can't, it's selfish of me to keep you--"

"Stop, little mortal, I beg of you," he pleaded, repeatedly pressing his lips to your forehead. "Don't rid yourself of me like this. I don't care if there's someone else out there, they aren't you." He sat you both down back on the couch, cradling you against his chest as his hand rubbed up and down your back in soothing motions. "Please just try to put what my oaf of a brother said out of your mind. His opinion is entirely his own and it is one I do not share."

Your next question blurted out without much resistance. "Loki what if I never become ready? What if you really are wasting your time with me, you shouldn't--"

"Any time I spend with you, regardless of how it is spent, is never a waste," he whispered, stroking your face as he held your gaze. "If ever you decide to share that part of yourself with me, it will be an honor that I will cherish for the rest of my days, but I will never be the one to place pressure on you to move yourself at a pace you're uncomfortable with."

You nuzzled your face into the crook of his neck, prompting him to press a kiss to your temple when you sniffled from the tears you were trying and failing to hold back. "I do love you," you mumbled against him. "You know that, right?"

"Of course I do, my darling mortal." He pressed his cheek against yours, taking deep breaths to calm himself after the scare your words from earlier gave him. He wanted to punch his brother clean across the jaw for jeopardizing his happiness with his careless words, and the stabbing pain it put him through seeing how deeply that opinion had cut you.

He started moving toward your bedroom, carrying you in his arms bridal style. Mostly in refusal to let you go even for a fraction of a moment.

"What're you doing?" you mumbled, making a motion to move out of his arms.

"We're going to bed, darling. Just to sleep, nothing more, I swear."

"Hmph…" you shook your head, the motion making the tip of your nose nuzzle his neck in a slight tickling sensation. "Maybe…maybe you should stay at your place tonight." Your voice was so small, so unsure of what you'd just said. The god stopped in his tracks, his body going rigid and making you immediately regret your words.

"Do you want me to leave, dear heart?" he choked out, his heart at war with himself as it protested against him putting you back down on your feet.

"No," you admitted, lifting your head from his shoulder and showing him the tears that had begun to redden your eyes. "I want you to stay, I'll always want you to stay, I just don't…" Your breath hitched in the back of your throat, almost sounding like a hiccup. "I don't want you to be frustrated because of me--"

"I'm not," he reassured you, resting his forehead on yours. "Being with you like this is more than enough for me. I need you to know this, my darling."

He laid you down on your bed before his clothes changed into his own loungewear set with a wash of his green magic, settling under the covers next to you and pulling you into his arms.

"Promise me something, Mischief?"

"Anything."

"If…and when…the time comes that you get tired of waiting? And you want to be with someone else--"

"Little mortal, not another word." He tightened his hold on you, as if he couldn't hold you close enough. "Please, my love, let's just retire for the night."

"Just let me get this out," you insisted. "Let me say my piece and I'll never mention it again. Okay?"

He sighed, pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead. "Okay."

"If you want to be with someone else, just promise you'll tell me and leave me first? I don't wanna find out waking up one morning and seeing someone else with her arms around you and just waving it around for everyone to see." Your voice dwindled and wavered into barely a whisper, your arm tightening around his midsection, a part of you already refusing to give him up even if the day were to come.

"That will never happen," he told you. "Why would I ever wish to leave you?"

"Just--Just promise me anyway. Please?"

"Look at me, little mortal." He traced along your jaw with his finger, tilting your chin up so he could see your eyes. The sight of the genuine fear of that precise outcome reflected in your expression knocked nearly all of the air from the god's lungs. "On the remotest chance of that happening, I promise I will never do wrong by you. But I want nothing more than for you rest assured that I will never wish to be with another.

"Perhaps one day you'll believe it. But I will gladly spend my days proving my devotion to you. This…This I will gladly swear to you. On whatever semblance of a soul I have left." He brushed the tip of his nose against yours before pressing a tender kiss to the same spot. "I love you, my darling Y/N."

You finally settled in his embrace, resting your head on his chest as you began to let your breathing even out. "I love you, too, Loki."

Just the thought of history repeating itself one day had your blood going cold, feeling as if your very bones were shaking from the images your mind conjured of the inevitable day that Loki would leave you. Somewhere deep inside you knew it was ridiculous for you to even think that your boyfriend was anywhere even near capable of putting you through what he had all those years ago.

But that was the thing about fear. Sometimes it was rational, like jumping out of the Quinjet and having a passing scare that your parachute had a hole in it. And other times it was outright absurd. Like now. Thinking that in the morning after you first had sex, the god would have realized there wasn't anything worth spending more time with. That he'd have had his fill of you and now it was time to move on to better prospects.

It didn't help, either, that your overly cautious mind was yelling that the signs were all there. That it could tell you exactly where this was headed because of the dropped hands. The refusal to even sit near each other. The barely there acknowledgement when you were even in the same room together. Everything that had happened before with him…felt like a mirror image of what was happening now. With Loki.

And you didn't have it in you to tell him that his desire for privacy was slowly and quite surely crushing you.

A/N: Starting off another story from the request pile! This is going to have 3 parts, where both parts 1 and 2 will deliver on the more angsty part and part 3 will be the comfort/fluff. I know you asked for "90% angst", Anon, but hopefully 10k words worth of angst will do it…because part 2 is 6.5k words long 😳👀

everything taglist: @simplyholl @loopsisloops @imalovernotahater @coldnique @loz-3 @huntress-artemiss @salempoe @vickie5446 @athalialaufeyson @lokiprompts @kats72 @kikster606 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @lokixryss @thomase1 @mischief2sarawr @peaches1958 @lovingchoices14 @lunarnights95 @goblingirlsarah @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @creationsbyme @maple-seed @mjsthrillernp @ladyofthestayingpower @mygfloki @sititran @glitterylokislut @ozymdias @fictive-sl0th @lokidbadguy @mochie85 @silverfire475 @joyful-enchantress @elizabethmidnight2017 @holdmytesseract @smolvenger @gigglingtiggerv2 @lokidokieokie @lunarnights95 @superficialdomina @kmc1989 @november-rayne @goddessofwonderland @buttercupcookies-blog @peaky-marvel @lokiified @tom-hlover

#loki angst #loki x reader #loki x female reader #loki fanfiction #loki fanfic #loki laufeyson fanfic #marvel fanfiction #marvel fanfic #mcu fanfic #muddyorbs writes #fic requests #500 follower celebration

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thesoftboiledegg · 6 months

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"Unmortricken" was a lot. In fact, it might have been a little too much.

To start, I loved the glimpse of what exists outside the Central Finite Curve. The visuals were stunning and reminded me of M.C. Escher's drawings. The Jetson-like family was a nice touch--if anything can happen, who says they can't have different animation styles? All those colorful portals make me wonder what's lurking just out of sight.

It's also funny that the space outside the Curve is full of Rick's favorite thing: crystals. If he took a trip there, he'd come back with his pockets stuffed with gemstones.

Evil Morty's reappearance gave us a decent character study. Since he wasn't the antagonist, we saw him interact with the C-137s as a regular person. Morty's a little impressed, and Rick has a grudging respect for him. Others have called Evil Morty the Rickest Morty, and I agree: similar intelligence, similar technology and similar bloodthirst.

I was glad that he left in the end because that's what his character arc is about anyway. He doesn't want to be part of anyone else's story, not even another Morty's.

However, that's also part of the issue that I had with this episode. Seeing Evil Morty was great, but it was also a little...pointless? You could've had the same story without him. He's not working with Prime, and he has no ties to C-137 after "Rickmurai Jack," so it felt like the writers just said "Hey, you know what would be cool?"

I'm not against writers having fun and giving the audience what they want. "Spider-Man: No Way Home" (yeah, groan at me, Marvel haters) is fan service in blockbuster form, and it was one of the best theater experiences I've ever had.

Still, if Evil Morty came back, I think he should've had a separate episode. The episode juggled C-137 Rick, Morty, Evil Morty and Prime Rick pretty well, giving them satisfying interactions with each other, but no Evil Morty would've meant more relationship development for the C-137s.

Evil Morty's backstory also didn't reveal much about him. I mean--yeah, we all figured that he had an abusive Rick and got fed up. The fact that he had a "regular" Rick instead of a deranged lunatic does make a point about the banality of abuse. Monsters aren't always raving maniacs who torture people in their basements. Ordinary people can wear you down with a slow drip of toxicity and neglect.

I enjoyed this episode, and Evil Morty's return was exciting, but cramming the series' two biggest antagonists and storylines into twenty minutes was a little overwhelming. New plot developments kept showing up, too: Rick found Prime! Prime's various lairs! Omega device! I would've preferred a two-parter.

I'll admit that if you told me that we'd see Evil Morty and Rick Prime in the same shot, I never would have believed you, but here we are.

On that note, Prime's characterization was perfect. No attempt at a cutesy, sad backstory; he's a laughing monster until the end. And is it really the end? He has regeneration abilities, but C-137 acts like he's dead and even gives up the search. This leaves us with a few options:

C-137 killed him.

Prime fooled C-137 into thinking that he's dead when he isn't.

C-137's keeping him alive for later use.

Hopefully, this is more complicated than it looks because I'll be disappointed if this is the end of Prime. He's a brilliant reflection of C-137: the Rick he'd be without his tiny shred of humanity.

And Prime's a maniac, but he tells C-137 the truth. Rick broke into Prime's house. He pretended he belonged with this group of strangers. He latched on to Prime's grandson because he never had his own. His brutal, violent streak never went away no matter how long he tried to play house.

Prime says "Admit it! You would have been me!" In season three and parts of season four, Rick was close. His love for his family--love that he pretended he didn't have--and desire for their approval just barely pulled him back. But what kept that spark alive? How close was he to becoming a cold, unfeeling shell?

In the end, C-137's not satisfied after he destroys Prime--and weirdly, I'm not satisfied, either. Beating Prime to an unrecognizable pulp doesn't bring Rick's original family back. It doesn't erase the atrocities that Rick's committed. It doesn't make his grief go away. It doesn't change the fact that Rick teetered on the edge of turning into the monster that he despised.

What's more satisfying is that Rick didn't turn out like Prime. His Morty doesn't give two shits about Prime, but he loves him. He hugs him in relief (come on, Rick, hug him back already!), cries out "Rick? Rick!" and shakes his body when he thinks he's dead, and talks excitedly as they return home.

Rick's going to therapy, which Prime would have mocked. He went from having nobody to living with FIVE kids if you count Morty and Summer. Even he and his Jerry are pretty tight.

Rick knows this, but he still feels empty all the time. Vengeance doesn't work, drinking doesn't work...wouldn't it be easier if he just switched off his humanity and laughed at everything, even his own death?

But now that he knows how it feels to be loved, especially by his hypothetical grandson, I think he'll always find himself at the Smiths' doorstep.

#rick and morty #rick sanchez #morty smith #prime rick #weird rick #rick prime #evil morty #boy that's quite the collection of tags #unmortricken #season seven #review

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vscabarca · 1 month

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immediate regret - pablo gavi

summary: gavi and you fought after a game, so you made him leave your apartment.

genre: angst, fluff

warnings: swearing

———

„Can't you just shut the fuck up for once and not be so annoying? Bother someone else." Gavi yelled through the apartment, making your body flinch at his words.

„i'm just trying to help you!" You spoke in a distressed voice.

„i don't fucking need your help." He was still angry, yelling around the room without even looking at his girlfriend, throwing his hands into the air.

„Why does everything have to be a struggle with you?" You asked him in disbelief, your voice cracking mid sentence.

Barcelona lost against Real Madrid in el Clásico, the most important game of the season. Additionally to that, Gavi received his fifth yellow card, meaning he'll be suspended for the next game.

You knew how hot-headed he could become after bad games, but this was new. All you've wanted to do is make him feel better, so you tried to talk to him. The two of you had your arguments, yes, but he had never yelled at you before.

Gavi felt immediate regret in seeing you stand there almost in tears. He was quick in approaching you, trying to apologize to his girlfriend.

You backed up, feeling a familiar tightness in your throat as your vision became blurry.

Quietly, but with a firm voice you spoke to him.

„Leave my apartment." It wasn't much what came out, but enough to make Gavi widen his eyes in devastation.

„Pero nena... please, i didn't mean it like that." he argued with pity but you couldn't stand seeing him right now.

„No, i dont wan't you here tonight, not after what you've said." Your voice trembled but you still wanted him gone. Maybe that way you both could cool off a bit.

„Look, i'm sorry" Gavi wanted to embrace you in his arms, but you interrupted him.

„Just leave Gavi, i can't see you right now." Tears were streaming down your face, making it hard to breathe.

He looked at you once more with nothing but regret in his eyes and left your apartment with a huff.

In the car he scolded himself for being so reckless with you, trying to figure out why he said what he said. His temper after games often led to arguments between you two, always bickering about how gavi couldn't control his emotions very well.

You felt like time would do both good. You knew somehow you would fix this mess but didn't want to discuss this in the heat of the moment.

———

Both slept worse than usal the next days, and the guilt ate Gavi up alive. His practice suffered from your fight, his mind was often somewhere else, thinking how to apologize to you.

He spoke to Pedri, getting some helpful advice in return and made his way back to your apartment.

You were currently watching a series to distract yourself from having no contact with Gavi for the last two days.

The knock on your door made your head turn as you did not expect anyone today. You opened the door, revealing Gavi on the other side.

He looked at you with a warm, small smile. In his hands were tulips.

„Can i come in?" Gavi asked carefully, waiting for your answer.

„Yeah come in." You answered, smiling slightly too.

The truth is you missed him very much, you hated fighting with him.

As you got seated, he placed the flowers onto the coffee table.

„you know, buying me flowers won't make me forgive you pablo." You raised your eyebrows at him.

„i know that, but i saw them and still wanted to give you something in addition to my apology." he replied chuckling. „i behaved like an idiot. i should've never screamed at you, you just wanted to help me. You know what a hot-headed kid i can be and I'm very sorry i took my anger out on you amor." he continued, holding your hands in his.

You smiled up at him, realizing he meant it.

„i know it means much to you, but i just want to help you with whatever you're dealing with. You could've just told me to leave you alone and i would've given you some time." you replied sincerely.

„i'm sorry amor. i promise it won't happen again. besides i had the worst two days without you. Am i forgiven?" Gavi asked once more as he scooted closer to you.

„Mhm. i've missed you too." you answered and leaned in for a kiss.

Gavi leaned in too, placing his plump lips on yours.

„i've missed your cuddles." you said as he pulled you down to him and wrapped his strong arms around your waist.

„Then lets watch something and cuddle." Gavi placed a sweet kiss on your head and snuggled closer to you if that was even possible.

#gavi x reader #pablo gavi x reader #pablo gavi #gavi #fc barcelona #football x reader #barça #fermin lopez #gavi one shot #football one shot

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boldlyvoid · 6 months

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Boldlyvoid Fics set in the Winter Masterlist

Spener Reid x Reader

What To Expect - 39k

Spencer wants to be a dad. The reader wants to be a mom. They fall in love somewhere in the middle of conception and birth of their baby, it was definitely not what either of them expected. (they're born before Christmas)

Better Man (The Story Of Us Series)

When her boyfriend stands her up on her birthday, Spencer shows her he could be a better man than him.

Alone Together - 43K

Y/N took the 12 days leading up to Christmas off from work to spend time with her father, unbeknownst to her that he was planning a trip to Paris this holiday season, leaving her to spend Christmas Alone… or so she thought.(set 2013)

Not Longer Alone Together - 30k 2022 sequel

Amethyst You So Much - 6.4k (AO3)

Spencer has had a crush on Y/N since she started working at the bau. She only ever works the night shift after a case, handling all the aftermath gracefully. one night, Spencer stays back and they strike up a conversation about rocks, causing their feelings to dig a little deeper.

Mine - 3.5k

all she needs to do is give a witness statement at the station, she ends up taking care of the sweet agent who put his life on the line to avenge her sister.

Ain't it fun? - 20k

reader just needs an NA meeting before they have a meltdown, they end up with the best friend they could ever make.

Professional Hair Dresser (Ph.D) - 6.4k

after Spencer’s knee injury, he starts visiting a salon every week to get his hair washed

Lovers Quarrel - 1.4k

Request: okay! so the request i had was that you and spencer are fighting and it’s bad, you both say very hurtful things to each other, and then you argue again after everything cools down and you end up having angry makeup sex, but spencer thinks of what he said to you and he starts crying during sex but he keeps going at it and it’s angsty but has a happy ending?

Cupids Chokehold - 2k

Every morning since they started working together Spencer gets the coffee and meets her outside her apartment, today she’s not waiting for him.

Hotch x Reader

Reacquainted at Christmas - 3k

he just needs a new pair of pyjama bottoms, she just needs a sleep shirt while in town and there’s only 1 pair of pyjamas left at the store on Christmas Eve.

Cowboy Like Me - 31k (winter to spring)

Aaron Hotchner ends up in Georgia when he goes into witness protection with his son. Staying in the guest house behind a bed and breakfast in a town no one has ever heard of, run by the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen.

Bigger Than the Whole Sky (Part 1) - 39k

what could've been isn't what would've been, she realizes that when she finds everything that love should've been in her boss, Aaron Hotchner, instead of her ex-husband.

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotch hotchner #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotch x you #hotch smut #hotch x reader #criminal minds smut #criminal minds imagine #Spencer reid #Spencer reid smut #Spencer reid fanfiction #Spencer reid fanfic #Spencer reid imagine #Spencer reid x reader #Spencer reid x y/n #Spencer reid x you #Spencer reid self insert #Spencer reid request

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fazedlight · 26 days

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Why am I obsessed with the rift?

From my first fic to the many many many many season 5 fics I've written, to the fic where the whole thing could've been averted in season 2, to my no-villain-era-for-Lena in season 3 (twice) and season 4 fics......... I seem to have developed a bit of a rift pattern.

A reasonable person might ask: Why?

There's something that itches in my mind: I think either woman would've been fully justified in walking away from their friendship, and yet they ultimately didn't.

It starts with Kara, who is ultimately a fractured person. She deeply values the truth, and yet she's forced to live with various lies, unable to be her full self.

Her identity is in the in-betweens. She feels adrift between two cultures, she knows her alien state while reaping the privilege of passing, she hides core aspects of herself on a daily basis. I'm sucked into the rift, in part, because of who she is and how she struggles to put it all together. I think her frustration will resonate with anyone who's stuck in the in-betweens.

Kara's struggle for identity plants the seed for the rift. The bigotry of society meant she had to have a secret identity in the first place, and keeping the secret from Lena was certainly reasonable for a time.

We can debate endlessly about when Kara should've told Lena - I think it's really hard to find the line between "too soon" and "too late" - but it ultimately doesn't matter. Because it's Kara's kneejerk reaction to Lena's kryptonite that forms the first sort of betrayal, not the secret itself.

Kara screws up - she says something she regrets, she doubles down when threatened and scared. These are common mistakes... but we have super-level circumstances, so we get super-level consequences. And the engine she has inside her that fears loss (which she's suffered to a level that is unimaginable to anyone on Earth) kicks in. She can't lose another person she loves.

But who is she holding onto?

In the series, and in flashbacks, we watch Lena's progression from idealistic techie to cynical recluse. While she's experienced loss and isolation, that's not the cause of her shift.

It's in experiencing her idol and protector become the madman who kidnaps her. It's in realizing her best friend has betrayed her by taking the one thing that could've saved her brother. It's in moving to a new city to start over, and meeting a mentor who uses her to start a global invasion. It's in her partner in scientific discovery being a pawn to her brother, colluding behind her back.

And then there's the final downfall. Her new best friend - her trusted confidant, her hero, the one who made her feel not so alone anymore - is the super who denigrated her, maligned her, spied on her. Lena had two important people in her life at that point, and she sacrificed one for the other... only to find out the other was a lie.

With betrayal after betrayal - Lex and Andrea and Rhea and Eve and Kara - she loses faith that anyone is above their worst impulses.

So she falls to her own.

How can good people do bad things?

There's a saying I heard around MIT sometimes: there are no technical solutions to social problems. It's easy to forget - when you're surrounded by people seeking to improve the world via science and engineering - that you can't solve humanity via technology or logic or rules. Lena forgot this.

Myriad marks a shift in the rift. Kara lied to Lena, antagonized her, spied on her - but her wrongs were directed towards Lena. Lena's initial response - the petty manipulation and the plan to out Kara - were directed back at Kara.

But then the rift fundamentally shifts.

At this point, Lena's wrongs are no longer just about Kara - she's trying to brainwash the world. She mindcontrolled Malefic and enslaved Eve. This went beyond the fallout between two friends.

It's clear that her intentions are still good here. She's not a megalomaniac like her brother, she's not forming an us-vs-them mentality like her stepmother. She's an anti-villain at this point in the story - desperate to find what's true, in a world full of lies.

It's a hard line to walk, acknowledging Lena's trauma and well-intentioned motivations while realizing she's still ultimately culpable for her own actions. But it's important to try to balance, because Lena is still redeemable.

But getting back to the relationship itself - Kara played a large role in pushing Lena to the edge of her trauma, which was entirely motivated by Kara's own trauma.

You hide things so you don’t lose people. I run from people who hide things. I guess we were bound to explode.

Lena says this in my first fic mentioned earlier, and it summarizes the rift as succinctly as I can put it. Their traumas were incompatible, and their relationship should've failed.

And yet.

Delving into how the CW screwed up the rift could be its own essay. They gave us a complex and layered situation, only to gut it with It's a Super Life (beloved/beloathed), the narrative retroactively justifying Kara instead of examining her foils, glossing over Lena instead of delving into her ethical blindspots. The rift was cancelled.

What does that leave us with?

Well, I guess it left me seeking the rift, over and over again. I'm certainly not the first author to do a rift fic, and I doubt I'll be the last. There seem to be a few different approaches:

Some authors delve into the nuance, having the two characters hash out what they've been through in a way that feels balanced and real. In particular, I love the @searidings fic with the birds i'll share this lonely view. I don't think I have the skill to pull off that type of story.

Some writers lean heavily on one "side" or the other, often with lots of grovelling. This never resonates with me, because at some point in a relationship there has to be the realization that it's "us vs. the problem", rather than "you vs. me". In my mind, these fics miss the layers of trauma that led to the rift.

Some authors make the rift not matter. If you put the characters through hell and back, the anger will lose its thrust, and they'll be left wanting to heal.

I fall into the last category.

There's a moment from permanence by @itllsetyoufree that I especially love, where - in the aftermath of season 6 - Eliza asks Lena why she forgave Kara. Lena can't answer.

We like to think we're logically driven. But in my experience, forgiveness - and a host of other emotions - never work that way. Sometimes "sorry" cuts it, sometimes it doesn't. A lot of times, forgiveness comes from the realization that someone genuinely wants to connect, and that the fallout was relatively unimportant in the grand scheme of things.

Of course, when your fallout includes extra levels of gaslighting and a bit of global brainwashing, making it relatively unimportant requires something drastic.

That's where I end up landing. Putting my blorbos in Situations helps them see the other in a new light - see the other's genuineness, the other's fears, the other's love. Often times, this comes with the simultaneous threat to someone's life (though that's not necessary, especially if it's earlier in Lena's breaking point cutoff).

I do assume - and sometimes imply - that they're also having those discussions, working things out in the background. Because of what I put them through in my fics, I don't think those end up being explosive discussions. It's about figuring out the practical aftermath of what the heart already knows at that point.

Whether I deliver on that is ultimately up to the reader, but that's my approach. Because at the end of the day, love is about cherishing and understanding the person in front of you - flaws and and traumas in all. These stories are driven by loving both characters, and trying to see them the way they see each other.

The rift is a story about love and connection - how those things can't happen without embracing someone else's trauma and without understanding one's own imperfection. Because that's what's at the root of all of us.

And that's why I write the rift.

#this felt good to finally put into words #(note: this approach made writing the pre-S5 fics particularly rough but that's a tangent that didn't fit in here)#(I don't delve into every ethical question either but I wish the show had)#supercorp #headcanon #mel stuff

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wlntrsldler · 2 months

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would've, could've, should've | luke castellan

series masterlist | prev | next

series description: zeus!reader x luke castellan; the series of events that happened between you and luke before and after his betrayal. doesn't follow canon.

i. if you never touched me, i would’ve gone with the righteous.

you could pinpoint the exact moment when your world was thrown off its axis. you were fourteen. it all happened so fast. the four of you were running, trying to reach the safety of camp half-blood, the commands of your younger sister sounded like nails on a chalkboard. you hated when she yelled at you; she always sounded like she knew better than you did, as if you didn’t go through the same things as she did, as if you weren’t older than her. whenever thalia talked to you, it felt like her words were daggers digging themselves deeper and deeper into your chest. there was never a time when you didn’t feel incompetent when you were with her.

“she’s more like our mom,” you heard her say to luke once. you were sitting with annabeth a few feet away, roasting a marshmallow on the fire you made. you’d stolen a bag from the walmart you stopped at a few miles back. the young girl was talking about something beside you, but your attention was on the conversation your sister was having with luke.

“that’s not a bad thing,” he replied. “the less we’re like that parent, the better.”

you never thought that you’d miss the feeling of incompetence. you never thought you’d want to hear your sister’s criticizing voice just one more time. one minute, you were looking over your shoulder, ready to stand up for yourself for the first time, ready to yell at thalia to run faster, to catch up, while dragging annabeth’s small hand in yours, hoping that her short legs won’t give out; the next, luke was picking up the young girl and placing a hand on your back, shoving you with all his might, but thalia was nowhere to be found. the sound of your name died on thalia’s lips.

you don’t remember much after that. you could feel the specks of dirt on the side of your face and the drops of water slowly soaking the clothes you were wearing. you can hear someone crying– beth, you realized– and the whispers of someone else muttering, you’re okay. i’m here. you’re okay. we’re safe. you thought you twisted your head to look at your two companions, but the more you tried to move, the more frustrated you got. you couldn’t move. why couldn’t you fucking move?

“shit,” the same voice. luke. you heard his footsteps coming closer, beth’s tiny steps echoing after him. “fuck, beth, go call for help.”

the rain was stronger now. you hated the feeling of clothes sticking to your skin. the water was making the ground muddy and you could hear the sounds of it squelching under your ear. you felt dirty. you wanted to scrub your skin until it was raw.

“hey, hey,” luke was kneeling beside you. his voice was shaky, “y/n, can you hear me?”

you wanted to nod, but you couldn’t.

“shit,” he repeated. he stood up, cupping his hands around his mouth, “help! someone please help!”

you woke up days later, in the middle of the night, gasping for air, drenched in sweat. luke and annabeth were passed out somewhere on one of the beds lining the cabin. they’d woken up days earlier than you did, but their bodies were too weak. chiron instructed them to stay in the infirmary until they could walk again without any assistance.

it hurt to sit up. the groans that left your lips made annabeth stir in her bed, but she didn’t wake up. you envied her ability to sleep through the noise but she was just a kid, she deserved to sleep. you recalled the nights the four of you spent in the caves you considered shelter, taking guard shifts while annabeth slept through the night. the agreement to not let her take guard, she was too young, she was just a child, was one of the few times you felt thalia valued your opinion.

luke, who woke at the smallest sounds, jolted awake at your noise. even before he ran away, he trained himself to wake up at the smallest things. his mom was unpredictable. a slight breeze of air could mean that she woke up in the middle of the night to walk on their roof, mumbling incoherent words, and the faint smell of smoke could mean that his mom was trying to bake again and luke would have to put the fire out before it burned their house down; luke learned early on that he needed to be alert at all times.

you were staring blankly at the wall. the smell of wet wood made your head spin. it hasn’t stopped raining since that night. you froze at the sound of thunder. there was something familiar in the way it hit your ears. it sounded like thalia’s voice, agony and pain, gripping your heart tightly.

“hey, you okay?” luke’s voice sounded older somehow, deeper, heavier. he was standing at the foot of your bed, blocking your view of the peeling wallpaper on the wall across from you.

his curly hair was matted on his head. his left arm was in a sling, a strap slung across his chest. his lips were red and raw, as if he’d been gnawing at them. he probably was. it was disorienting for a moment because his voice didn’t match his appearance. in the dark, he looked like a kid, searching for comfort after a bad dream. sometimes you forget that he was only fourteen, that you were only a few months younger than him. sometimes you forget that you were just kids.

luke was staring at you, a part of him waiting for you to speak, the other part of him taking you in for the first time since that night. he was relieved to see you awake. he didn’t know if he could’ve handled losing you too. the minute luke met you, he knew you were different. you were more human than any of them, like you weren’t supposed to be born into this life somehow, like the gods made a mistake making you into a demi-god.

you viewed the world differently from him and thalia, but it wasn’t in a way that was naive. him and thalia accepted this world, this life, but luke knew you didn’t, not fully. there was a part of you that still held onto the humanity of it all. luke loved you for it.

“my sister.” your voice was hoarse after not using it for days. it was scratchy and you wanted to claw at your neck until it was back to normal.

luke looked away for a second, clearing his throat. he walked closer to you, sitting on your bed. he let his feet rest on the creaky floorboards. “how much do you remember?”

“i don’t think thalia liked me very much.” your reply didn’t answer his question, and if luke was annoyed by it, he didn’t let it show. he was looking down at his lap, knees bumping into each other as he tried to steady himself. he’d been practicing for days how he was going to break the news to you in case you didn’t remember, but it seemed like you did. he replayed this scenario a million times in his head, but this conversation, your words, caught him off guard.

“she loved you,” he said. “you’re her sister.”

“yeah, but she didn’t like me, not really,” you reached for the cup of water beside your bed. you didn’t know how long it’s been out there, but you didn’t care. it burned your throat as you drank. “i should’ve been the one protecting her, not the other way around. i’m her big sister.”

a small smile crept on his face, “when has thalia ever accepted help?”

you always appreciated luke. ever since you met him, he always tried his best to make you smile, even when there wasn’t much to smile about. he was the oldest of the bunch and he took the role seriously, sometimes too seriously. he had the same fighting spirit as thalia, untamed and wild. they didn’t seem to ever butt heads– not the way you and thalia did, at least. they had a mutual respect for each other, like soldiers recognizing soldiers.

“she loved you,” he said again, trying to somehow convince you. luke didn’t know what it was like to lose a sibling, and he hoped he’d never find out, so he didn’t know if his words were making the situation better or worse.

he knew it was true, though. thalia did love you, even if she had a different way of showing it. there was a night before the three of you found annabeth, where he woke up to switch lookout shifts with thalia. thalia was sitting beside you, a small knife in her hand, ready to strike in case anyone got near you.

“hey,” luke whispered, hoping that his voice wouldn’t wake you. “take a break. i got it from here.”

he’d only met the two of you the day before and he could tell thalia didn’t fully trust him yet. he didn’t fault her, he understood why.

thalia’s eyes flickered to your sleeping body, her defenses faltering for a second, before she shook her head in defiance. she stared at luke, “no, i’m good.”

“thalia, you haven’t slept all night,” he reasoned, “you won’t do any of us any good if you’re not resting.”

“don’t tell me if i’m good enough,” she sneered, eyes narrowing. she didn’t break her gaze. “me and my sister survived just fine before you.”

luke’s face softened at her words, “i didn’t say you weren’t good enough.”

the two of them went back and forth for a while until it was decided that luke was going to stay up, too, even if thalia didn’t want to sleep. they sat in silence, thalia sneaking glances at luke every once in a while. she fought to stay awake until she couldn’t anymore, succumbing to her fatigue. luke didn’t say anything when she fell asleep at your feet a few hours later.

luke was patient for his age. he wasn’t hot-headed anymore, the way thalia was, but he remembered a time when he used to be; like when he was eight and his mom bought him a piece of chocolate at the store the day after she wandered out of the house in the middle of the night, doing gods know what, and he walked for hours, exhausted and sleepy, before he found her in front of an abandoned hospital a town away. she was sobbing in front of the caduceus painted on the wall. he could barely make it out under the graffiti on top of it, but his mom was screaming, it’s your dad. your father is here, luke. look at him.

luke was livid when he woke up the next day to her keys jingling, a bright smile on her face, as she held out the small piece of chocolate she bought for him. she was acting like everything was normal, like everything was fine, as if luke’s feet didn’t form blisters from walking so far, like the tiredness in his eyes weren’t proof of his lack of sleep.

luke screamed at her then. he screamed at her until his voice was gone and his mom stood there, taking his words, not making an effort to argue. when he was having a particularly bad day, he’d think about the piece of chocolate, imagining what it would’ve tasted like if he had just taken his mom’s peace offering, if he had just been patient with her.

thunder struck again, but this time it was stronger. it shook the cabin. you placed the cup of water on the table. you nudged luke with your foot, “what did we get ourselves into, luke?”

there was a beat. luke looked up from his lap then, catching a sight of your face under the strike of lightning that illuminated the otherwise dark room. he reached over to place his hand on top of yours, giving it a light squeeze, “i don’t know, but as long as we’re together, it’ll be okay.”

neither of you could remember the last time you slept as well as you did that night. when you woke up the next day, the sun was shining brightly through the widow.

#frances song fics #frances writes #luke castellan fic #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan series #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan fanfic #luke castellan #luke castellan x yn #luke castellan x y/n #luke castellan x you #luke castellan pjo #percy jackson #percy jackson fanfic #pjo fanfic #pjo series

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itsnothingofinterest · 8 months

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I actually find it funny when people will say the heroes need to kill more villains instead of arresting them when, from where I'm looking, every instance of the heroes killing a villain(s) has led to some consequence that would've been avoided had they just been taken in alive. (Which evidence has often shown them quite capable of doing.)

Lady Nagant was made to kill loads of people, driving her crazy and leading her to kill her boss and deprive the hero side of one of it's best. Her case feels like a big reason why killing on the regular would be incompatible with the rest of the hero shtick; 'cause it turns out people with lots of blood on their hands have trouble using them to then shake the hands of children.

People say All Might should've killed AFO; but you can tell both from All Might's dialogue in Kamino & from how AFO regrew his head that that's exactly how their first fight ~7 years ago ended. AFO's brains met the pavement that day. And I can only assume this allowed his body to be easily recovered & revived, letting him lay low for the next 6 years to mould Tomura into a successor and orchestrate a good portion of the conflicts we've seen in this series. Just saying, that sounds much harder to do from Tartarus. And at least the heroes knew when he broke out of jail way faster then when he broke out of the grip of death. Heck, it could easily be argued he only broke out of jail thanks to that 6 years of set-up.

Oh and where to start with Hawks killing Twice? Maybe how it enraged Toga & Dabi to make them more crazy & dangerous, maybe how it affected people's trust in heroes? Oh but the big one has to be how leaving Twice as a corpse let his blood be collected for Toga to get a parade off anyway; one the heroes were unprepared for too, which distracted a lot of the pros meant to keep AFO in Gunga. All of which could've been avoided if Hawks had just taken Twice in alive. (Which I must reiterate he easily could have done; I mean his quirk was shown pretty easily countering a Parade.) The heroes wouldn't have had to deal with a Parade in this war at all if Twice was sitting pretty in a jail cell next to Compress & Geten.

I can't help but think those last two cases could be a surprisingly common occurrence too if heroes killed as much as some readers say they should. Like, could you imagine if every dangerous villain in Japan's history was killed and then just dumped somewhere for a guy like Dr. Garaki to get his hands on them the same way he got Shirakumo?

So anyway, between the mental health issues it causes, combined with how villains keep finding ways to perform necromancy; I'm just not seeing a lot of evidence that things go well for the heroes when they kill villains, or that they'd go much better if the heroes were kill-happy soldiers of the war on villainy all the time.

#bnha #lady nagant #hero public safety commission #all for one #all might #shigaraki tomura #twice #jin bubaigawara #anti hawks #dabi #toga himiko #pro heroes #kyudai garaki #shirakumo oboro #hero society #Hell if I wanna be petty; even Endeavor roasting Hood might’ve made him harder to study than the USJ Nomu or Kurogiri were.

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qxldnya · 1 year

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Enemies to lovers

Part 1 Part 2

Jude Bellingham x baller!reader

(ongoing series)

Wc: 800

Warnings: swearing, insults

A/n: thank you for the love since the first part this one will have a lot more jude in it though;)

"What?"

Is the only conceivable answer you're finally able to squeak out, hands beginning tp tremble at your sides.

"I- People are saying what?"

Oh no no no no....

Someone. Had fucking heard you. But how????

Jude's eyes flash annoyed, shoulders stiffening.

"People," he grits out from between his clenched teeth, like you're too stupid to properly comprehend what he's saying.

And to be fair, maybe you are.

"are saying that we are dating. And I sure as fuck didn't go around saying bullshit like that."

You can't help but cower against the wall under his scrutinizing gaze, wishing that someone, anyone, would come by and help you out of this shitty situation.

This shitty situation that you might've somehow made for yourself, yes, but dammit, you deserve to be rescued from someone like Jude.

"I-"

"Don't play dumb, cause apparently Rice heard you saying some shit like that. And now it's spreading like fucking wildfire across camp."

He leans in even closer. The close proximity has you flushing despite the tense atmosphere, and you blanch, fumbling with your gym bag as it nearly slips from your grasp. Him being all up in your personal space is seriously messing with your concentration.

"Rice?" You finally stutter, like the oblivious idiot you are. "Like, Declan Rice?"

"Who else, dipshit?"

A thousand thoughts are racing through your mind because holy shit, out of all your teamates, Rice would've been one of the last people you'd ever want to overhear that particular conversation. The main reason being that anything gossipy that anyone tells him or anything he happens to bear apparently - will be broadcasted to the entirety of the team in a matter of hours.

So if he was the one to overhear your stupid blunder of words... It's no wonder you're fucked right now. But you'd checked the room, you're positive you did, and he wasn't there. So how...? And then it hits you, like a brick in the face. You forgot to look behind you. Like an actual idiot, too hurried to properly survey your surroundings.

"No," you laugh nervously, trying to wave him off in earnest and hoping that your internal panic doesn't manifest itself onto your face.

"no that can't be true. He probably... overheard something stupid I said and, y'know, just took off running with it."

Forcing another laugh, you trail off when you realize your words have had zero effect on him. In fact, he looks even more pissed off now, which you weren't aware was even possible at this point.

"So you said something?" A sharp question, and you realize your mistake far too late. Implying that Declan could've overheard something is only bound to incriminate you further.

You should've just denied it all from the beginning. "I definitely didn't!"

Comes the feeble protest from your lips. You both are aware that it's a truly pathetic attempt to dissuade him.

"Bullshit," he snarls, and you realize you've dug yourself into an even deeper trench. "I know Declan. He's a fucking gossip, but not a liar."

Trying to backtrack, because now he's thinking you're insulting his friend, you search for another escape route from this conversation. Anything at all to end it, so you can go and put yourself six feet under the second you get back to your room.

"No! No, I'm not saying he's a liar, I just-"

"You just! what?." He's even closer now, jaw locked in. Positive that if you press any farther into the wall, you'll fuse with it, you instead try to dodge to the side again. He doesn't let you, shifting his weight to the side, and you're unable to fight back the blush that spreads across your cheeks when you realize his lips are only inches from yours.

The day you kiss Jude is the day the world splits in half and rains fire and lava across every nation on the Earth.

Today is not about to be that day.

"Jude, training's is going to start-" He positions himself to block your way again, forearm completely pressed against the wall next to your head.

"You don't get to fucking run away right now, alright? So tell me what the fuck is going on."

"Nothing!"

"Then the rumors?"

"I don't know-!"

"No, I want the fucking truth."

"It was an accident!"

You finally hiss, squeezing your eyes shut in utter mortification, because holy SHIT this could not possibly get any worse right now. The sound of footsteps from farther down the hall squeaking to a stop alert both of you to the presence of an uninvited onlooker.

Both you and jude whip your heads around to face them, and you both stand stock still as a petite girl from the media team stands awkwardly in the middle of the hallway, clutching her bag tightly in her arms.

The universe is just full of surprises: it CAN get worse! It's very possible that you might go into cardiac arrest within the next few minutes.

Jude's still boxing you into the wall his chest nearly touching yours as you both flush bright red at the sudden intrusion.

To anyone not aware of the very hostile context of the situation at hand, you've both become hyperaware of the fact that your positions probably look... far from innocent.

Eventually she just giggles bashfully and passes by the both of you to enter the pitch, but not before she could take a picture of you both in the compromised position. She then proceeded to hurriedly say something along the lines of-

"youtwomakeacutecouple!"

"hey!" Jude tried to get her attention but she had scurried away out of sight. He knew it was too late and that the picture probably already been posted on all the gossip accounts on twitter by now.

You're legitimately too scared to look back at Jude. And for good reason, because you can hear how hard he's breathing right now.

If he was pissed before, you don't want to imagine how angry he must be right now.

"What the fuck did you say," he growls, still not moving from his current position. In turn, you choose not to respond, busying yourself with the scuffed floor beneath your sneakers as your heart pounds wildly from within your chest. Ah, yes. Linoleum. Your favorite.

"What the FUCK did you-" he starts again, pushing himself off the wall to stare at you in utter disgust, and you snap.

You're not sure if it's from the adrenaline of this whole situation, or if you've just lost almost all of your braincells in the past 24 hours, but you immediately step forwards after him and hold out a finger to press it firmly against his lips, silencing him in his tracks.

A ballsy move, that's for sure. "Shut up!" You whisper-shriek, your entire body vibrating with energy. "Just- shut the fuck up! I'll explain all of this after training, but I am... NOT going to be counted tardy because.. because of this!" The floor beneath your cleats klick as you turn on your heel towards the pitch, clutching your gym bag firmly and casting one last scathing look over your shoulder.

"Next time, ask me shit like a normal human being without just- trapping me against a wall, you fucking asshole! I can have ur ass in jail for that Bellingham. It's called harassment at workplace" you shouted.

And then you walk into the pitch, as if he's not about to eventually follow you and stand right fucking next to you and listen to coaches instructions.

But damn, did that feel good. Your victory is short lived however, because instead of waiting an appropriate amount of time to enter the room, Jude instead chooses to saunter into the pitch right after you. Like. Directly behind you.

The looks that you're getting from your fellow teammates are overtly obvious at this point, and you can only imagine what they all must be thinking.

You want to turn around and reprimand the shit out of him for not realizing the awkward position he's just put both of you in, for the second time in the past five minutes, but there's already been far too much attention on you today.

Jude surprisingly says nothing, choosing instead to turn away from you and stare off into space.

He seems lost in thought, you think. And for a brief moment, you wonder if you've finally put him in his place. Your phone buzzes, and you see mason from the other side of the pitch trying to catch your eye by "discreetly" waving his phone around like a traffic flagger.

Rolling your eyes, you slide your phone out of your pocket to face the inevitable. You immediately open your phone to see the three unread messages from earlier this morning, as well as a new one from a minute ago.

From: money mase

8:12 AM

YOU'RE DATING JUDE????

8:14 AM

swear down you do!!

8:20 AM

wtf is going on? I'm hearing about it all over camp, I didn't even know that people knew ur name ;P

Ouch.

9:14

UR WALKING IN TOGETHER????? IS IT TRUE???????? How big is it.

Gritting your teeth, you type out a response, fingers tapping the screen a bit harsher than necessary.

You can feel his expectant gaze focused on your form as you answer her.

From: You

9:15 AM

It's all a big shitty misunderstanding

His next text is immediate. And at this point you had no idea how no one had clocked you two being on your phones.

From: money mase

9:16 AM

So ur not dating?

From: You

9:16

AM Ok what exactly are people saying????

From: money mase

9:17 AM

Ok so Idk how it got spread but Rice's been saying something about you two dating and finally becoming official? And that was according to you??? I didn't hear the details but everyone's kinda curious since Jude is like Y'know famous for being him and there's a lot of angry fangirls ngl but he's a good looking boy, so I'm not surprised this blew tf up.

Groaning quietly,

You'd known Jude Bellingham to be a popular figure throughout the country, but his reputation had spiked considerably after that game, with people going as far as to making thirsty edits of him

Whatever.

You had still disliked him.

From: You

9:18 AM

I forgot about the fangirls. Idk how he even has any they don't know what he really is like...

From: money mase

9:20 AM

hahaha they like the bad boy vibe But yeah since some people knew you two were uh really cold with each other like in training and team bonding activities.

It came as a big surprise and Rice took off and made it into a whole hidden romance thing so it's got people weirdly intrigued. But main thing is he's claiming you were the one who said you and Jude were dating and idk he's a gossip but a reputable source soooo what's goin on?? >_>

Your coach begins to explain session course and you tuck your phone back into your pocket, mentally cursing every god in existence. Of course Declan just had to take one out of context conversation and turn it into a whole... real life fan fiction plot. Or something stupid like that.

What on earth are you supposed to do now.

You wind up pondering over that question for almost the entire rest of training, halfheartedly dribbling the ball past the dummies as you desperately search for a way out of this mess.

On one hand, you could try and ignore it all. Go about your life like nothing's wrong. But that would probably raise questions from people that you, quite frankly, wouldn't care to answer.

The other option is just telling Rice the truth, or at least saying you and Jude definitely AREN'T involved. So maybe he can spread that around instead. But you have a feeling that somehow, the whole thing might spin around on you, and you'll be branded as a liar, or worse: a creepy fangirl. You might even get kicked out.

The imaginary accusation makes you shudder. Dragging your hands down your face in exasperation, you snag a glance at Jude through the gaps between your fingers. He appears... less angry than you'd expected him to be. Considering everything that's happened in the past 24 hours.

brown eyes snap to meet yours. You panic and look away. Slapping a hand over your mouth, you stand in stunned silence as the guy in front of you just stares apathetically back at you. "I'm sorry-" you begin, but he scrunches his nose in disgust before you can finish.

You try to apologize again, stumbling over every word that comes out of your mouth, but he just turns away from you with a glare.

"Learn to speak properly you, prick," he mutters. Walking past you to greet James.

"keep ur mouth shut. Wouldn't want your fangirls hearing their little judy using such words, now do we?" you question with a lingering smirk playing on your lips. Only to be greeted by him simply turning his head glaring at you and mouthing bitch.

Nice going.

You've got half a mind to run like hell when training is finally over. But you did promise Jude that you'd explain, well, everything. And he's definitely holding you to that promise.

He stands up seemingly prepared to follow you out of the pitch again and it takes everything in you to not turn around and bap him on the head for not realizing that him tailing you so closely is bound to solidify the rumors in your fellow peers' minds. "Follow me," he grunts, slipping past you and into the aisle walkway.

Never mind.

Now you're the one following like a lovesick puppy. The thought of being that enamored with Jude grosses you out, so you discard it. It feels like everyone's looking now, though.

But the stares don't seem to bother him as much as they bother you, because he doesn't so much as bat an eye when a few of your teammates begin to whisper to themselves as they look at him, then at you, then back to him.

You scamper along behind him, willing yourself to become as small as physically possible so you can shrink away from the curious gazes that surround you. Leaving the classroom feels like a much-needed breath of fresh air, but you still notice a few students lingering around.

Jude leads you down the hallway and to the right, and from then on takes multiple turns and twists across the building until you find yourselves in front of the doorway to an empty room. The people have completely thinned out, and this wing of the facility seems completely abandoned.

You peer around his broad shoulders to get a good look inside. It seems like it's been abandoned for years now, with thin layers of dust coating nearly every surface and with thin layers of dust coating nearly every surface and cobwebs hanging from the ceiling.

He explains stiffly. "Used to chill here with Trent and James "

And then he's walking inside without so much as a glance backwards to ensure that you're following. He probably assumes you'll go after him anyways, the cocky bastard.

But you actually do, much to your own displeasure, so maybe it's not totally unjustifiable. It still pisses you off though. He stops in the middle of the room, staring absentmindedly at the ceiling with his hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans.

"I'm sorry about earlier." You nearly pinch yourself to ensure that, no, this isn't a dream, and the Jude Bellingham is actually apologizing to you for something.

"I shouldn't have grabbed you like that," he admits, his voice low. "Shitty move on my part."

"I- You're fine," you manage to stammer out, still dumbfounded at this recent development. The tension seems to visibly lift from his body.

Then, with a glance over his shoulder, he narrows his eyes.

"So... explanation. Now." Sighing, you trod over to an empty desk and plop down. You shouldn't have expected him to truly be any different than normal, you supposed. But, there's no time like the present. Might as well get this all over with.

"Ok, so... this all started because of my aunt Sylvie's wedding."

Fifteen minutes later, you've completely caught him up to date on the truth about what happened - as well as a tiny rant about just how much you desperately hate Tom - and finally finish your story, only to be met with an awkward silence.

He's turned to face you completely by now, having been listening intently with only a few subtle shifts in his expression. None that you could read, though. For all you know, he could be mentally plotting your murder right now. Swallowing your pride, you stare down defeatedly at your hands.

"I'm sorry," you finally whisper when the deafening quiet becomes almost unbearable. Because being honest, this mess is your fault at the end of the day. The least you can do is clean it up.

"I'll tell Rice, and hopefully he can just spread the truth around this time. Or, you can, if you haven't already. I don't know. And I mean, that's fine, I just don't want to put you in an awkward position, so actually if you want me to do it instead-"

"You need a plus-one?" The question catches you off-guard, and you stop mid- ramble.

"Excuse me?"

"The wedding," he repeats, rolling his eyes. "you need a plus-one to go?"

Nodding cautiously, you shift in your seat. "Yeah, my aunt's kind of a micro-manager about that stuff. I don't know why, but now she thinks I RSVPed so... I'll probably have to just pay her back."

He stares at you for a few moments longer, before cursing and roughly running a hand through his hair. You're completely perplexed now, unsure of why he asked such a question in the first place.

Does he feel bad or something? Why would he ever feel bad though? No, it must be something else. Turning to the side, Jude clicks his tongue a few times, foot tapping impatiently on the hardwood floor. He curses once more, then wheels around to face you again with resigned scowl etched onto his features.

You raise an eyebrow.

"I'll do it."

The words are so sudden and out of place that you can't help but bark out an abrupt laugh, quickly moving your hand to cover your mouth.

"What?" He takes a few steps closer, eyes still narrowed. "I said I'll do it."

"Oh my god, you're serious," you breathe, unsure of what emotion you're exactly supposed to be feeling right now. Because elated is definitely not one of them. Why the fuck is Jude, the guy with whom you share a mutual hatred, offering to be your plus-one to a week long wedding vacation?

Your romantic plus-one? Your first thought is that he pities you, but that seems unlikely even for Jude. So is he trying to score reputation brownie points by helping you out in this situation? What is going on??

You're about to flat-out refuse, not wanting to be some asshole's charity case, when he speaks again.

"But I need you to do me a favor in return."

(a/n) - chapter 3 comes out tomorrow

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