#all my ideas and aspirations could go to someone else

[russellsppttemplates]

I'll never give up on you (Franco Colapinto)

You think your age is an obstacle, but Franco is set on proving you otherwise

Note: english is not my first language. It's the big doe eyes, the curly hair and the fact that he's very funny, isn't it? It's a very crappy situation for everyone how they got here, everyone recognises that. This is also the first time I'm writing for him 🤍 I always feel and know I have to put this - for those who are here and have stayed, thank you for being so patient and for staying - I hope this is good enough ✨️

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm not taking requests right now, so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to send them in but know that I don't know when I'll be able to get to them!

my masterlist

Cw: reader is slightly older than Franco (three years), alludes to previous bad relationships, alcohol consumption, relationship insecurity, reader gets accidentally hurt

Tag list: @myloverjk-blog @hiireadstuff @c-losur3 @sltwins

"You look gorgeous, Y/N! I love love love this!", Olivia squealed, clapping her hands when she got to your bedroom.

"It's nothing special", you blushed at her compliments.

"It will catch some eyes, you will catch some eyes!", she smiled, "can you help me with my dress, please?", she turned around so you could zip her up.

You and your bestfriend Olivia shared an apartment in university, and once you entered into the job market, you quickly realised that it would be best to keep the same living situation, knowing you'd save some money in a beginner salary and you both felt comfortable about eachother. Her boyfriend Mark had just got a work promotion and he wanted to celebrate it with his friends, so you had been invited.

"Who else is going to be there?", you mused as you packed the essentials on your small purse.

"Some guys from the new department he's in now, Luke - the one we met a couple of weeks ago at the shops -", she began listing the names she recalled, "Amber, and Franco, I think - he doesn't have a race this week", Olivia said.

"Oh, okay", you smiled.

Franco Colapinto knew Mark from one of the teams he had driven for, and despite his career, he was an incredibly down to earth guy. You had met him in a few other occasions and he was funny, kind, always up for a challenge and not easy to persuade out of things. "Things" including flirting with you. At first, you thought it was just his nature and posture towards new people, but after realising he only acted like that towards you, and the fact that he kept making advances and going as far as talking to Olivia about it, you knew it was something else.

"You still haven't changed your mind about him? He's such a good match for you, Y/N/N", Olivia pouted.

The premise was simple - Franco was younger than you, and as much as he seemed interested, it would never lead to anything good. He was young, aspiring an amazing career you were sure he would achieve, and frankly, you couldn't see you in there. He would like to party all out, not have responsibilities and certainly not have to date someone older than him. And this was just at the top of your head - if you let your insecurities really work you up, there were many other reasons.

"We are not! If we did date, it wouldn't last long and I'm not up for that - I've learned my lesson", you tsked.

"You know he's very into you, I'm not sure you can get him to back down", Olivia advised, "I get that you have your walls, but maybe you could give him a chance?".

"He'll probably find someone else, if he hasn't already - now let's go!", you pulled her with you, not wanting to arrive late.

Once you were inside, you quickly spotted the group, greeting everyone and ordering some drinks.

"You're sure you don't want anything else?", Mark wondered.

"I don't feel like drinking anything strong today, but I'll toast to your promotion - congratulations again!", you hugged him.

"Careful, everyone!", you heard the argentinian accent call out, getting you to make room on the table so the bartender could set the tray with all the drinks, "Hello, Y/N, how are you?".

Turning to face Franco, you were instantly met with his bright smile, shiny eyes and wavy hair perfectly tousled, "Hi, I've been good, and you?".

"Even better now that you're here", he winked, "you look amazing by the way, that colour looks beautiful on you", he complimented.

Hoping the dim lighting hid your blushing cheeks you nodded, taking the coaster to our your drink on before looking at him, "thanks, it's not new or anything", you brushed him off.

The night was on a good roll until you came back from freshening up in the bathroom - just as you were about to sit on the high stool, a guy pushed his friend in a playful manner, only for him to accidentally hit you and making you hit your knee on the piece of furniture.

"Fuck", you mumbled, bracing yourself against the table as the sharp pain climbed up your leg no matter how much your hand tried to soothe it.

Before you could process the whole thing, a large hand was placed low on your back, "are you okay, Y/N? What happened?".

"It was us, I'm so sorry", one of the guys apologised as he carried his friend to their table, "do you want me to get something? Again, I'm so sorry".

"It's fine, I've got her", Franco dismissed them before looking at you again, "are you okay?", he asked worriedly.

"Of course", you attempted to speak firmly even though you were sure your face said it all. Your mother always told you you weren't a great liar.

Franco didn't seem to be convinced either, and ignoring your words, he bent down to check your knee, "you should sit so it doesn't swell up, and ice it too", he stated, tapping his shoulders for you to support your weight in them and help hoist you up on the stool.

"I'll go get some ice", Olivia offered.

As she excused herself, Franco gingerly touched your knee, fearing that he would hurt you even more, "is this fine?".

"It's not terrible, but it's hurting, like, it's a pulsation", you winced as he squeezed.

"I'm sorry, Y/N", Franco apologised, "just needed to check that it's not broken".

"You don't need to stay here, Olivia is coming back already", you added, watching the rest of the guys back on the pool table after you assured you were fine all things considered.

"You're the only one I care about, the rest can wait", Franco spoke.

"Look at that group over there", you pointed with your eyes, "wouldn't you prefer to hang out with them?".

The balloons let you know it was one of the girl's 20th birthday, and judging by the way they were looking in your direction, they noticed you too. Or Franco, you assumed.

"I've told you, I don't care about them, now where is the ice?", he muttered, looking around in hopes of spotting your friend in the darkened room.

"She's coming back", you pointed out.

The ice pack seemed to help relieve the pain and perhaps help with the bruising you were sure was going to take over your knee, "Franco, you can go be with the guys, I'll be fine", you reassured him again, "or be with the girls over there, they're very keen on you", you nudged.

Franco looked up at you, his gaze intense and serious, "those girls don't interest me", he replied, "you're the only one I care about".

There it was again.

"Don't say that", you tried to push it away before it dwelled on, "they're all very pretty, your age I'm sure".

Franco smiled softly as his eyes remained fixated on you, "who I pay attention to is you, you're the one I've always paid attention to", he spoke, not caring about the fact that Olivia was right there as she seemed distracted, "I don't care about their age or what they do. They're not you, and I want to be with you, so I'll stay here with you", he stated.

You heart took a lep, and even though you wished you could say something rational, something that made sense, the way he was looking into your eyes didn't let you. There was honesty and sincerity that never seemed to fail and that you could never ignore.

"Let me help you", Franco spoke softly, "right now, you're the only thing worrying me".

Hesitating, you allowed him to adjust the ice pack and keep talking to you about random stuff to take your mind away from the state of your knee, and for the first time in a while, it felt good to let someone else take care of you.

.

"Do you really think that we won't workout because of our age difference?", Franco spoke.

Mark and Olivia went to get coffee for all of you and left you and Franco on the picnic blanket to save the spot and keep your belongings safe. The plan for the afternoon was to enjoy the sun outside and while you were sure your bestfriend had something to do with this whole arrangement, you decided to let it slip and focus on relaxing for the afternoon.

"What?", you mused.

"You always point out that you're older than me, and whenever I make any advances, which I assume you're not too blind about, you never say yes, but don't say no either", he offered, "is it an obstacle?".

"We're good, aren't we?", you spoke.

"We could be better", Franco spoke and he supported his torso on his hands on his sides, "do you know how much I care about you?".

"We're friends", you replied.

"And you're telling me we couldn't be more?", Franco wondered.

"You have so many things to do still, I can't imagine you'd want to be tied to a 24 year old with a job and mundane responsibilities", you chuckled.

"Is that what it is? Do you really think our age difference is an obstacle?", he spoke softly.

"I can't say with such certainty", you mumbled.

"Can I keep on showing you that it isn't?", Franco spoke.

"I'm very stubborn", you recalled, "and I don't want you to waste your time".

"I'm not going to pressure you, but I'm not going to stop trying to show you how much you mean to me - you're very important in my life, Y/N".

.

"Did you salt the water already?", Franco asked as he grabbed the pasta from the cupboard.

"I did", you told him as you chopped the peppers and onions to add to the sizzling pan.

Franco happened to be around the area for lunch, and after he saw your story about being on your own, playfully claiming that Olivia had abandoned you, he offered to keep you company. Taking Olivia's advice that you should give him a chance and explore what you felt for eachother, you invited him over for lunch.

"Can I ask you something?", Franco asked as he dried his hands on the kitchen towell, throwing it to you so you could do the same.

"Now I'm worried...", you joked, "but sure, go ahead".

The smell of garlic browning in the pan filled the kitchen as you added the rest of the veggies, and you could feel the driver's eyes watching you. Up until now, the atmosphere was light, but there was an unspoken tension at the prospect of the question.

Franco couldn’t take it anymore. He was spending time with you whenever he could, getting closer little by little, but he felt there was a wall. A wall that you held strong, despite your shared glances and conversations that often stretched into the night.

“Why…”, he paused for a second, as if he was choosing his words carefully, “why do you keep pushing me away?”.

You stopped stirring the pan, slowly setting down the spoon aside and turned to face him.

“What are you talking about?”, you asked even though you knew exactly what he meant.

Franco turned fully to face you, his eyes fixed on yours, “You know what I’m talking about,” he said, his voice low, almost a whisper, "I’ve been trying to… get closer to you. You know how I feel about you, but every time I take a step toward you, you back away. There’s something you’re not saying, and I want to understand why, and if it's the age thing...", Franco let it out.

You sighed, fiddling with your hands as you gathered your thoughts.

“It’s not simple", you murmured, looking down at your feet.

"Then explain it to me", Franco's voice was calm, but insistent, "because from my side, it seems very simple. I like you. You like me, or at the very least you don't seem to hate me and…”, he hesitated, leaning a little closer, "whatever is stopping you… I can deal with it, we can talk about it".

Your heart raced as you looked up at him, "the age difference", you began hesitantly, “we’re from different worlds, different lives. You have so many options, people around you who… who are more in your vibe and in the line of life you can have. I’ve been through things you haven’t even begun to experience. What makes you think this… us, would be a good idea?", you mused.

Franco took a deep breath, taking a step closer until he was almost touching you, “What makes me think this would be a good idea? That we may have something to explore here? Have a shot at something good together?”, he repeated, looking directly into your eyes, "because every time I’m with you, I feel like I’m in the right place. Because no matter how much you think age is relevant, for me, what matters is how you make me feel. I’m not interested in anyone else, because you’re the one I want to explore these feelings with".

You fell silent, feeling his words invade her defenses. No one ever stood up for you like this.

“Age?”, he continued, "That doesn’t scare me. What scares me is losing you for a reason that, in the end, has no bearing on how I feel about you. You're so amazing and I don't want to lose that".

You bit your lip, feeling yourself wavering between the logic you had always used as a shield and what Franco was doing to your heart at that moment.

He took another step forward and gently placed his hand over yours, “I just need you to tell me… is it really age, or is it something more? Because if it’s just that… then we have a lot more to gain than we have to lose.”

You looked at his hand on hers and, for the first time, let yourself relax a little, allowing your brain to consider the possibility.

“What if it doesn’t go well?”, you whispered, voice hesitant and full of vulnerability, "I don't want to make a promise I can't keep, and I haven't let myself explore these feelings yet and... I don't want to hurt you, Franco".

"Y/N", he sighed softly with unexpected tenderness, “What if it does?", he smiled, "I'm not going to pressure you, and from the moment you tell me that there's no interest, I'll stop and we can remain friends. What I'm asking you is that you consider it first... take your time, I'll wait".

In a moment of confidence, Franco cupped your cheek and kissed your forehead, and for that moment you allowed your wall to lower a little more.

.

The good thing about the hot temperatures outside was that most people had taken their Saturday plans to the beach or the pool, so there was less traffic on your way home. You parked your car in the building's underground garage and went up the stairs to the floor where the apartment you share with Olivia is. Judging by how late you left work, your best friend must be home given that she has the free afternoon on Saturdays.

Turning the key in the lock and opening the door, you find a completely dark apartment, which is strange considering you left the blinds half open this morning to let in sunlight. As soon as you step inside, closing the front door behind you, you're surprised by lights that suddenly turn on and a chorus of voices singing the Happy Birthday song.

You hadn't felt in the right mood to celebrate your birthday this year, given and the changes from studying and the stress of your new job, so to say you were caught off guard by this surprise was an understatement. You had told Olivia that you could have something special for dinner to celebrate the day, and while she insisted a little more, she ended up dropping the subject. And you thought that meant the had agreed to your simple plans - that morning, she caught you when you were having your breakfast, wished you happy birthday and gave your her gift, a very simple necklace with a medal with your initial in it, and didn't make any more fuss.

You definitely didn't expect her to be preparing a surprise like this for you.

Besides Olivia and Mark, Franco is the first person you see in the living room of your apartment - which makes you feel a little bad about yourself considering you hadn't even told him that today was your birthday. Besides the three of them, Maria and Julia, your two closest friends from school, were also present, as well as Pedro, one of your best friends from high school that moved to another city, and as it turns out, came all the way to your party.

When the chanting ends, Olivia approaches you with the cake so that you can blow out the candles, everyone's attention still on you. You know you should say something, but right now, you were completely surprised, and talking under pressure was never your strongest suit.

"Thank you everyone!", is all you can say at first, earning laughs from your friends.

You rolled up the blinds, as they had been down so the surprise had full effect and opened the windows, allowing the air to circulate as everyone gathered in the living room, picking at the foods and drinking on the table you were sure were Olivia's doing for the small celebration.

She is the first one you turn to, tapping her shoulder softly.

"I know... I know you said you weren't in the mood to celebrate, but I thought that this is actually what you need - being with the people that adore you and care about you", Olivia goes first before you can utter out a word, "so, please, just enjoy this, okay?".

"Thank you, Liv", you smiled as you pulled her into a hug, "I can't believe that you went through all this trouble".

"It wasn't too much trouble, and Franco helped a lot", she answered, "the guy didn't even know what day your birthday was, Y/N... That's cruel!", she jokes, to which you roll your eyes.

"I probably forgot about that detail", you answer with a giggle, "thanks again".

"Stop being annoying and enjoy it", your best friend says, joining her boyfriend Mark's and Pedro's conversation.

You take the opportunity to greet Mark and then Pedro, who you haven't seen in person for a long time, "I can't believe you came all this way for this!", you exclaim.

"Of course I came! Olivia told me all the news and not only could I not miss your birthday, but I couldn't not come at a time like this", Pedro explains, "besides, how long has it been since we've been together in person?".

"Too long", you reply with a smile on your lips.

"Exactly! We need to catch up!", your friend exclaims, earning your agreement, "but go greet the rest of your guests first and we'll talk more later", he squeezed your shoulder.

You approach Maria and Julia, hugging them both tight. Although you finished your master's degree as they finished their undergraduate just over a year ago, you hadn't seen each other very often since then as work kept you all busy.

"I'm so happy you're here!", you smile, feeling genuinely happy at having all your people together in one room.

"We couldn't miss it. Besides, we've been missing you so much - you were truly a mother to us and I miss being coddled by you -, and we've already noticed that there's news you haven't been telling us...", Julia comments, wiggling her eyebrows and sharing a suggestive smile with Maria.

"What are you talking about?", you wondered with a quirked brow.

"You don't know? I'll tell you then! About Franco Colapinto!", she snickered, "you didn't tell us you were that close", Maria says.

You're quick to roll your eyes - a common response at her usual antics over the years -, "I told you we were friends", you recall.

"Yes, but we didn't know you were that close!", Julia insists.

"I see your annoying curiosity hasn't ceased", you joked, rolling your eyes again, "Anyway, thanks for being here, I really appreciate it", you joined your hands over your heart before excusing yourself.

Your eyes are quick to search for Franco, but you can't find him in the room. A few seconds later, you spot him returning from the hallway, assuming he had gone to the bathroom or had to take a phone call.

"I should be mad at you for conveniently forgetting to tell me when it was your birthday...", Franco starts, to which you shrug your houlders, trying to put on your best angelic and innocent face.

"I know, I'm sorry... with everything going on, I barely had time to think what month we were on and I wasn't exactly enthusiastic about it to be honest", you explained, "but I must confess I'm happy Olivia arranged this, and I know you helped a lot, so thank you so much, Franco".

"I get, I was just messing with you", he smiles, "and you don't have to thank me for it, you know I'll always do anything to see you happy".

"I know, and that's why I am so grateful", you smiled back.

"Might as well give you the present I got you now", Franco points out, "give me two seconds so I can get it from where Mark told me to put it so it wouldn't be in the way of Olivia's plans and before she started staring at me with her 'I'm going to chop your head off' eyes", he chuckled.

You nodded and waited long enough for Franco to pick up a bag and give it to you, " I racked my brain to decide what I should gift you, because nothing seemed good enough, but I hope you like this".

Undoing the bow keeping the paper bag together, you found a copy of your favourite book with a collectable cover. The intricate detailing of the golden foil complimented the colours beautifully and there was a bookmark inside it, the little tassel falling to the side. Taking it to inspect it closely, you read the delicate lettering Don't lose the sparkle that makes you.. you.

"Wow, Franco", you gasped, completely enamoured by the beauty of it all, "this is spot on, I love it!", you exclaimed, hugging him.

"I'm glad", Franco smiles, jokingly wiping sweat off his forehead and making you laugh.

"Have you met my friends?", you wondered.

"Yes, Olivia did all the introductions", the driver answers.

"Good, let's find out what they're going on about", you suggested, setting the present back in a safe place and pulling Franco with you to join the rest of the group.

You spend the rest of the afternoon and early evening chatting, while you eat and drink the things that Franco and Olivia kindly prepared, and playing some board games. At the end of it, you end up having a really good time, in a way that you haven't in a while, feeling really grateful that Olivia had prepared this surprise. Without knowing it, this was exactly what you needed: your friends and some good moments of relaxation.

"Are you leaving already?", you ask Pedro when the young engineer announces his departure.

"I still have to drive back, Y/N, remember?", he reminds you, earning a nod, "but don't worry your heart too much, I'll keep bothering you with messages and calls and stuff... You won't get rid of me that easily".

"Fine by me!", you smiled at him, "thanks for coming, truly!".

"You have nothing to thank me for. I'll be here any time if you need me - I'm a phone call away", he reminds you, "Are you okay?".

"Of course", you smiled, "let me know when you get home, okay?".

"I will. I had a great time meeting you guys today", Pedro waves at everyone, "until next time!", before leaving the apartment.

At around 10pm, Maria and Julia also announce that they need to leave since they would have an early morning. You bid them goodbye to your friends with the promise of a lunch whenever you could find the time to catch up.

"Don't tell me you're chickening out now and going home too?", a slightly tipsy Olivia teases Franco as he got up from the his spot in the sofa.

"I've already told you that I have the day off tomorrow, my friend", Franco teased her back, getting you and Mark to laugh.

"Let's play another round then", Mark suggested, "since there's only four of us now, we can split into two teams and play Party & Co.".

"This is a recipe for disaster if I have ever seen one", you muttered, "Olivia is a terrible loser and you are a racing driver".

"That's why you should want to have me on your team, I'm used to competing", Franco argued in his favor.

"Strong point, argument accepted. Let's do it!", you declared.

During the game, Olivia ends up making up consequences for those who make mistakes, making everyone drink a few sips of their drinks and even Franco joins in with these punishments, arguing that today is an exceptional day to his usual regime.

By the end of the first game, it's clear that you're all drunk, so you make the responsible and sensible decision not to play anymore. Mark and Olivia end up retiring to the room, leaving you with Franco in the living room.

"I hope they don't make too much noise", you point out as you adjust your position on the sofa so that you're facing Franco, making him burst out laughing at your words, "What?! I'm not telling any lies! Have you imagined how uncomfortable it would be for us to be here and hear them having a baby making practice session?".

"You're right, you're right. I hope they don't make much noise", Franco repeats your words and, this time, you both laugh, "So... did you and Pedro date in high school?".

"Did he tell you that?", you ask, unable to contain your giggles.

"Yes, why? Is it a lie?", Franco asks.

"Half, half", you answered with a gesture.

"How is something half half a lie? It's either the truth or a lie", Franco states.

"I had a crush on Pedro, I tried my luck, but nothing ever happened between us", you admitted, deliberately pausing briefly before continuing, "Because Pedro is gay, Franco, and he was clearly making fun of you", you finally let out a laugh that's been bubbling up since he first asked you.

"Are you serious?", Franco mused.

"Yes. Apparently, he found a weak spot in you and decided to exploit it", you answered amused by the situation that must've enrolled when you weren't home yet.

"A weak spot? Nah... We were talking and he just dropped it, I have no idea why", Franco said, shrugging his shoulders.

"What were you talking about?", you wondered.

"Considering we were at your birthday party... We were talking about you", the brown-haired man answers.

"Please continue", you encouraged.

"Curiosity killed the cat, Y/N Y/L/N", Franco declared, but your glare was enough for him to keep going, "He asked me how we met and I told him. And then he told me about you. And he clearly told me a lie".

"Does it make you feel relieved that it's a lie?", you spoke before thinking properly about it. The sudden courage is unusual for you, but you're playing with all your cards on the table.

"I don't know what you're getting at, Y/N", the driver changes the subject, which makes you roll your eyes.

"I know you undertand it, stop acting like you don't. It's a yes or no question - are you relieved or not?!", you insist.

"Honestly? It doesn't do much. If it were true, it would be something from your past, not your present. We both have a past", Franco responds in a somewhat evasive manner.

"But it could be my present again, especially since he was here today", you decided to insist, wanting to understand how far you could push him.

You weren't sure about the game you were playing, and you couldn't quite say that you were thinking clearly, but this feeling of dominance and being in control was enjoyable. Understanding that this was making Franco uncomfortable also made you realize that he wasn't so sure about talking about what he felt for you. The part of you that wants to understand what he really feels for you is ignited, and you can't tame it down.

After the conversation you had, Franco didn't make any advances and never showed that he wanted more than a friendship, which, in a way, left you at ease, but also perhaps a little disappointed. Had he realised that you weren't worth it?

"Honestly, I don't know what you're getting at...", Franco pretends not to understand again, which makes you sigh loudly, "What's wrong?".

"What I'm trying to understand is if what he said to you bothered you or not. And if so, why. But clearly you are not ready to admit it", you state.

"You're playing a dangerous game, Y/N... You're trying to cross a very complicated line", he warns.

"Why?", you keep going.

"Because you asked for time and space and I gave it to you. And now you're trying to cross a line that I've been trying not to cross, because I'm trying to respect your wishes", Franco answers, this time sincerely.

"That's true, I asked you for time and space and you gave it to me. And I appreciate it", you begin, "but... I know I'm getting closer to that line, maybe I'm even playing a dangerous game too, but I'm doing it consciously".

"What if you're not ready for my honest answers?", Franco argues.

"Well, that's a me problem, isn't it?", you shrugged your shoulders, "can I ask my questions and get back honest answers?", and Franco's answer comes out in form of an unhappy sigh followed by a nod of agreement, "did what Pedro told you bother you? Did it bother you to think that we had dated and that he was back here?".

"Like I told you, we both have a past", Franco avoids the question. Tries to, anyway.

"Honest answers, Franco!", you exclaimed, pleading in exasperation, "of course we have a past, but I'm not going to give the past a shot and I think you won't do again what you did before! With Pedro, it would be different, because if we had dated and he was here, that would mean we had a good relationship. So, I'm going to repeat the question again, and I want you to give me an honest answer - did it bother you or not?".

"It bothered me!", Franco suddenly exclaim, "do you want honest? Here it goes! Yes, it bothered me exactly because of what you just said. Even if, by some act of the devil, your other boyfriend came back into your life, I know for a fact that he would never have another chance with you. However, if you had dated Pedro and if he was here today, it meant that he had a chance with you. And if he had a chance with you, then he was someone I would have to look at as competition".

"And now that you know that there never was and there never could be anything between me and Pedro?", you ask him.

"It makes me feel a little less worried. It means that I still have time to try to continue to mend the damage that others have caused, it means that I can still work to show you how much you mean to me and how high I hold you in my life", Franco replies in a calm and honest tone, which surprises you.

Faced with his words, this time, you are the one who doesn't know what to say. You did ask for honesty and there it was.

"You wanted honest answers...", Franco argues, as if he could guess what was on your mind. Lately, it seemed like he could do it effortlessly.

"I know, I'm not complaining", you admitted, "Does that mean that what you feel for me goes beyond friendship?", you ask directly. You needed to hear it from his mouth.

"What can my answer change in our relationship?", Franco asks, not answering your question.

"Nothing. I won't walk away from you this time, I promise. I just need to know", you clarified.

"Do you really want me to be one hundred percent honest with you?", Franco asks.

"Yes, please", you ask.

"Yes, what I feel for you goes beyond friendship. I tried not to let it be like that, I tried to pretend that I wasn't falling in love with you, but there's no way to control what we feel", he declares honestly without ever stopping to fix his gaze on yours, "Every time I look at you, I see someone with whom I can imagine a future... And I know how hasty this may seem, and I know your reservations about us, but it's simply how I feel. You asked me to be honest and I'm being as honest as I can... But I don't want to lose you, Y/N. In fact, I can't lose you, because, the moment that happens, I think I'll end up losing myself too", Franco stated.

His words leave you completely disarmed, not knowing what to say. Looking at it, you don't think anyone has ever said something like that to you. The words overwhelm you and there doesn't seem to be a right thing to tell him back.

"Can we just forget I said all this?", Franco says, "I don't want things to get awkward between us".

"But I don't want to forget it", you answer quickly, "It was the most beautiful thing anyone has ever said to me".

Judging it by Franco's expression, he was also caught off guard by your words, probably because he thought this would change your relationship again and brung unwanted distance between you.

Truth was, you weren't going to run away anymore. You didn't want to, and you couldn't do it.

Yes, you were scared, but you knew you need to move on. The comfort zone can be very good, but no boat was made to stay at the dock and you needed to drop the anchor and launch yourself into the unknown. Besides, you know that, in a few years time, you won't like to look back and regret what you didn't do.

"Can I ask you the question back, then?", Franco tries and you nod, "Is what you feel for me just friendship? Or something more?".

"I don't have an answer as assertive and confident as yours, but I know that I look at you and I don't see you just as a friend. You are very special to me, Franco. You are the person I want to talk to about everything, the good and the bad. You are the person who I know will never judge me, who will always try to understand me and help me. After all, you were the first person I was able to trust one hundred percent", you admit, "and I'm still figuring out how I'm supposed to allow myself to believe in love again after everything that happened, but I really wish you were by my side on this journey... That you would make me believe in love again", you offered.

"I don't like to make promises, Y/N/N, but there's one thing I'm absolutely sure of - I'll do everything in my power to make you believe in love again", Franco says, pulling you into his lap and embracing you in a hug that makes you feel safer than ever.

.

When Franco called you and asked if you could join him in the park, you were quick to let him know you were leaving work and heading to meet him. The past two weeks had been crazy with him travelling to races and you visiting your family, so texting had become the way you found to maintain contact.

As soon as you spot him by the trees, you walk a little faster, hugging him as soon as you are able to, "can I say that I've missed you?", you joked.

"I missed you loads, so I think it's only fair you tell me", he smiled, "Hi, how was your day?", he asked as he squeezed you against him.

"I missed you", you spoke, "and it was good, better now that I'm here".

Lately, your walls had lowered progressively - Franco's reassurance and a constant defiance of your thoughts had helped you break down the worries you had. Olivia pointed it out, everyone noticed how much happier you were, and even Franco could sense you were feeling more comfortable.

You end up sitting so close to each other that your knees touch and you rest your arm on Franco's and let your head fall on his shoulder, closing your eyes for a few seconds and just inhaling his scent.

"I...", Franco begins but soon stops before saying anything else.

"What is it?", you ask, raising your head to look at him.

"Nothing, nevermind", he shrugs.

"I don't like it when people say that to me. If you were going to say something, don't tell me to forget about it", you state firmly, "Whatever you were going to say, you can say it. Always. I will never judge anything you tell me. I know you, okay, Franco?".

"Yes, but...", he sighs, "I think I'm missing the courage".

"Please, just say it!", you exclaim, starting to get anxious and worried about his hesitation, "Is it something serious? Is there a problem?".

"No, nothing like that!", he clarified.

"Okay, then...", you encouraged.

"It's about a conversation I had with my mother", he says and, although you don't say a word, your expression lets him know he can continue, "about you".

"About me?", you ask curiously.

"She doesn't know it's you, but... It was about us and about what I feel for you", he offers.

At these words, your heart suddenly accelerates, "she told me that life is supposed to be lived and that..", he gulps.

You remain silent, because you don't know if ot what your supposed to answer. There's nervousness and anxiety as you're not sure exactly where this conversation is going to end up at.

"We can't predict the future, we don't know how much time we have", Franco spoke, "what I mean by this is that I've been thinking that, many times, we waste time on things that, perhaps, don't make that much sense. And I think I've been wasting some time in the sense that I've wanted to do things calmly, I've wanted to respect your time and I think I'm the one who's been afraid of taking the next step. I'm too afraid of losing you, but I'm wasting time and we never know when it is too late".

Part of you knows where Franco is going with this, but the other one doesn't fully understand what he's trying to say.

You're nervous, your heart feels like it's beating out of control and there's a lump in your throat. Despite not crying often, you feel the tears right at the back of your eyes, ready to fall at any moment.

"I'm not particularly good with words, Y/N, but what I'm trying to tell you is that I'm madly in love with you. Damn, I'm trying to tell you that I love you. And I know you're scared and I'm scared, because there have been bad experiences, and because what we have is very special and neither of us wants to ruin it. But I think we're wasting time apart when we could make the most of this time together", Franco continues, "I believe we were very lucky to have found each other when we did. I think we had the perfect timing. And every time I look at you, all I can think about is how lucky I am to have found you. I love you, Y/N, and I want to be with you one hundred percent", the brown-haired man stops his speech as if to catch his breath, and then concludes, "That is if you want to be with me, obviously".

What can you say to someone who declares themselves to you in this way? What do you say to someone who has told you everything? How can you say something that comes even close to what you just heard?

"Did I misunderstand everything and after all you don't like me the same way, is that it?", Franco asks, "it's just, your texts and the way you talk, feels like you do".

The insecurity in his voice is the trigger you need for the words to simply come out of your mouth without having to think much about them, "No, it's nothing like that!", you exclaim, "It's just that it's hard for me to say anything after everything you said. I don't want you to doubt for even a second what I feel for you, Franco. I know I haven't been the best person to express my feelings, because when we say things out loud, they become real. And I was so afraid to admit the truth, so much so that I preferred not to say it. But you're right. Life changes in the blink of an eye and it doesn't make sense to keep leaving things unsaid or undone and wasting time. I'm in love with you, Franco. A part of me has wished, since the moment you made an effort for me, that I could have someone like that by my side, willing to protect me, take care of me and be there for me. I have no doubt that my life has changed for the better because you came into it. And I should have told you all this sooner, because you deserve to hear all this and much more. You are an extraordinary person and you deserve to be happy. And I want to be able to make you happy", you stop for a few seconds, taking a deep breath and gathering all the courage in the world to say the dreaded words out loud, "I love you and there is nothing I want more in this world than to be with you and be your girlfriend".

Despite all the nervousness you felt when expressing your feelings, the relief that follows leaves you feeling like a weight was lifted off your shoulder. Suddenly, you understand that fear paralyzes people and prevents them from moving forward.

The fear of not being enough for Franco, that he couldn't possibly have a girlfriend older than him and the fear that he would suffer from that was what was holding you back, stopping you from being happy. Now that you got that off your chest, that you said what you feel out loud, you realise you're ready to be happy again with someone else.

The smile that appears on Franco's lips makes your day. He wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you towards him, pressing your lips together.

You close your eyes and savour every second of the moment: from the way his hand is resting on your waist, while the other caresses your cheek, to the way his lips slide over your and your tongues touch.

When you break the kiss, needing to breathe, you keep your eyes closed for a fraction of a second, enjoying the sensation his lips left on yours.

"I have something to ask of you", you say, opening your eyes.

Franco's arm continues wrapped around you and you remain very close to him without moving, appreciating the closeness.

"Whatever you want", Franco says.

"Don't give up on me. Whenever I try to push you away, pull me to you. Whenever I yell at you because I'm angry, hug me. If I don't answer your texts or calls, look for me. When I feel too insecure, remind me that I'm the only one and how lucky I am to have you. If I'm giving up on us, kiss me and remind me why I shouldn't give up. And I know this is asking too much, but I know you love me enough to do this, to stay with me. I promise to do the same with you, to never give up", you declare.

"I promise, mi amor. I'll never give up on you, not even if you ask me to", Franco smiles as you cup his cheek, bringing your faces closer once again to kiss him.

[cher-rei]

afterglow- pt 1 [ T.A.A ]

pairings: trent alexander arnold x femreader

summary: young and aspiring marketing and business major jamie carter (you) is privileged with working alongside the liverpool marketing and public relations team while also getting entangled with their star player and right back, trent alexander arnold.

[wc: 2.6k] [part 2] [part 3 ] [part 4] [part 5] [part 6] [part 7] [part 8] [part 9] [part 10] [part 11] [part 12]

genre(s): friends?? to lovers, work romance, fluff

notes: I've had this idea on my mind for months but I had no idea how to execute it at all. also instead of using the y/n insert, I gave the character a name even though it is read from your pov. It just made it easier to write lmao

"ms carter?"

your heart dropped at the sound of your name being called by an unfamiliar voice, which was something you were going to have to get used to. nonetheless, you turned around to see an older man approaching you with a warm smile and something in his hand.

when he got close enough he put out his hand and you politely shook it as a greeting, still not sure who you were talking to. before you could speak up however, you were interrupted by something being put in your hand.

"this is your staff id," the older man said and you took a closer look at the lanyard in your hand. the picture you had taken less than a few weeks ago was set neatly inside with your name, and position.

carter, jaime

[public relations manager- social media and marketing department]

public relations manager. those three words were enough to make you feel light headed.

you liked to think that your employment on liverpool fc's marketing team was nothing but pure luck. from the moment you handed in your resume for your university final year internship out of pure whim, then to you getting accepted for whatever reason until you got the email no less than a month after graduation asking you to come in for an interview.

all that lead up to the moment you were currently in. standing in the middle of the empty anfield stadium that you had visited for nearly every home game since you were a child. it was nothing but pure luck.

you were broken out of your daze by the older man chuckling about something, which showed that you hadn't heard a single word he said during the past five minutes. you mustered up a smile regardless to play it off and proceeded to follow him for what you thought was a building tour.

"I just realised that I never properly introduced myself," he laughed dryly and gestured for you to step into the tunnel before him. "I'm billy hogan- chief executive officer and I'm ever so sorry for being in a rush right now but I'd like you to be at the training center within the next 30 minutes."

your eyes widened in shock, your feet absentmindedly picking up its pace while hogan continued to speed through the building tour, leaving no room for questions but you decided to make a mental note to ask someone else when you got the chance.

you were escorted to the black s.u.v along with hogan immediately, running through the hundreds of questions you had at the moment. you know you only had room for one though before he was on another phone call.

"uhm sir-"

"yes ms carter?" the older man addressed without trailing his gaze from his cellphone screen or the pile of documents in front of him.

oh gosh.

you managed to clear your throat. "I'm not too sure why I'll be needed at the training center. shouldn't I be in the office or..."

when he heard you start to trail off, hogan shut the folder in his lap and turned to look at you with an expression you couldn't quite read. there was a moment of awkward silence that passed between the two of you in the backseat of the s.u.v, the driver not paying any mind to the conversation.

"our last marketing manager had to be fired because we found out that he was leaking information out to reporters and news broadcasters along with four other employees."

oh shit.

you shuffled in your seat as you tried to think of a response to the news but whenever you parted your lips to say something hogan would raise his finger as a sign that he wasn't done talking. so you swallowed the bitter taste in your mouth along with any comments and listened intently.

did it sound like he was targeting you and bordelined threatening you? yes, yes it did. but you were sure he meant well and was only trying to bring his point across.

"we're low on staff and that's why you were handed two very crucial roles and are expected to make up for the losses. you'll be working alongside the team as you read in the contract," he began once again with a knowing look which made your stomach drop.

because you didn't read the contract. not fully at least. your older sister was the one who urged you to sign it the second it was sent to your house. hell, it could've stated that you were required to donate an organ and you wouldn't have known all because your were too excited and didn't spare anything a second glance.

"but why didn't you just promote people that were already in the department instead of giving me the position straight away?"

hogan let out a dry chuckle and tended to his phone once again, not looking back at you. "because nobody else wanted the position. it's dangerous up there ms carter. so you may feel important right now, but if you can't handle the workload and expectations it's going to get messy."

well this is news to me.

to sum up hogan's lecture and recital of the contract off by heart, you were in fact set up to be working alongside the team as a higher ranking media representative because there needed to be more field work done. no pun intended.

but the fact that nobody else was up for the position didn't sit right with you.

"just make sure they look good for the camera and keep everyone entertained. you're an influencer yourself, so I'm entrusting you to keep everything in order. you were hired because you are young and are in the game already. so keep yourself level-headed and do your best."

no pressure I guess??

deciding to wear sneakers instead of heels today was by the far the best decision you've made in weeks. the weather in liverpool during september was nothing short of horrid. when you stepped out of the car your face was immediately hit with the harsh and crisp air that reminded you why you spent majority of your time indoors.

"welcome to our axa training center," hogan gestured to the building in front of you, it's ceiling to floor windows having you gawking in awe. "this is where you'll be spending a good amount of your time, but it's not as bad as it seems I promise."

what's so bad about watching a bunch of professional football players train half naked?

unlike your last building tour, hogan actually took his time showing you around this time. from the lobby, breakroom, staff rooms, gym and finally to the field where the team was out practicing-- or at least that's what you thought was happening judging by all the screaming.

the second you stepped foot out onto the field, klopp turned to look at you with a welcoming smile.

did he just sense my presence??

you felt frozen in your spot, the world had practically stopped spinning the second he called you and hogan over. when you made it over he halted his conversation with the person beside him to shake your hand.

"it's lovely to finally meet you ms carter," the team's manager politely greeted and it took every single nerve in your body for you to not do something stupid.

you bashfully laughed and brushed his comment off, "if anything, the pleasure is mine. I am extremely honoured to be working in this position."

after a few moments of getting to know each other and klopp giving you a bit of an idea of what he expected media-wise, you realised that you had work cut out for you, judging by klopp saying, "think of this as your second family. the team needs something different, and you ms carter, are exactly the home improvement that we need."

you felt like the weight of the world had just been put on your shoulders again, and his tone of utter sincerity wasn't making it any less pressurising. of course you wanted to do well and give your all into this role but it was going to take a bit of time getting used to.

I should have read that damn contract.

"would you like to meet the team?" klopp asked with a smile and lightly patted your shoulder.

the gesture alone was enough to render you speechless, and you weren't quite sure if you heard him correctly. "would I like to do what?"

"boys!"

your eyes widened in shock as he called the team over. you didn't know what to do or say, your fight or flight mode had nearly been activated and you swore you were about to sprint out of the training center, all the way back home.

you anxiously fiddled with your fingers, not knowing what to do with your hands as you watched the group of soccer players head your way with little to no care to which klopp gave you a reassuring pat on the shoulder. "don't worry, they won't bite."

you mustered up an awkward laugh, muttering under your breath as you mentally prepared yourself for the moment. you obviously hadn't met any of them before, the closest you had gotten was going to the stadium to watch their matches.

the closest you had gotten to any interaction with any professional soccer player in general however, would be at the beginning of the year when jude bellingham followed you back on Instagram. which was still the best day of your life up to date.

you were awestruck, words unable to form as they all huddled up in front of you. you could see the sweat beading on their foreheads which caused a shiver to travel down your spine.

"boys this is ms jaime carter." klopp gestured to you and you managed a small wave, trying to ignore the sound of your heart beating in your ears. "she'll be working with us from now on, as manager of the pr manager for both the marketing and social media departments."

you were greeted with a choir of 'hello's' and listened to klopp give everyone the run-down and a little enlightenment into the situation regarding the last bundle of staff that had to be cut off so abruptly.

"pfft, snitches."

you head turned to look in the direction of the comment, that was immediately reprimanded.

"curtis," klopp started and the soccer player pursed his lips apologetically.

"sorry boss."

"aren't you a little too young to be the manager of two departments?"

your eyebrows raised at the question from harvey. klopp and hogan had to attend to a last minute call from the clubs directors so you were left with the team to "get to know each other", but most of them got back to training which left you with harvey, curtis and trent.

you shifted your weight to your right leg, your head tilting to the side challengingly as you eyed the boy. "well you're younger than i am and playing professional football. what does me being a pr manager make any difference?"

trent and curtis couldn't help but snicker at your counter, jokingly mocking their younger teammate until he got visibly irritated.

"you can't deny us the right to laugh at you," trent said jokingly and kicked the ball to harvey, who passed it to cutis again.

their banter went on for a few minutes as you watched the ball pass between the three of them until harvey spoke up again.

"you're straight out of university though so--"

his sentence was cut off by someone yelling, "ball!", to which you all instinctively looked up only to realise a little to late that it was headed in your direction.

shit.

you backed away just in time to get the ball before it hit the ground. the second it came into contact with your foot, you sent it back virgil's way to which he gave you a smile.

a familiar feeling stired up in your stomach after, but you pushed it aside and for back to your train of thought. "and you're straight out of high-school. so i rest my case."

a moment of silence took over, trent and curtis both shifting their gazes from you and all the way over to virgil who was over at the goal post.

harvey was taking the moment to recollect your high school comment. it was because he was short wasn't it? that's all people had to throw at him these days.

it was trent's turn to speak up, his eyebrows raised while curtis muttered to himself about the distance or something like that. "have you played before?"

before you could answer, your name was being called by hogan since it was time to get back to the office building. you huffed out a breath and sent the three boys a smile.

"looks like today's 'q and a' was cut short." you took a few steps back, stuffing your hands into the pockets of your puffer jacket. "you might as well stock them up for next time. I'll be more than happy to feed your curious minds."

[into-the-lokiverse]

Who You Really Are (Loki, God of Stories x Reader)

Summary: When all appears lost to an aspiring novelist, the God of Stories sends a message of hope.

(credit to @lokitvsource for the gif)

You weren't sure how much further you could go on, or if you could go on.

For years, one of the biggest things you desperately wanted in life was to be a novelist. To entertain with stories of magic, power, action, romance, and a little nonsense.

But lately, as you sat before your desk, exhausted from the day job you relied on to pay the bills, you just couldn't bring yourself to move forward with your debut story. The plot felt too twisted to the point even you could barely comprehend it at times. The characters once vivid, were fading into shadows and dust of their former selves. And the scenes you envisioned in detail started to feel...unreachable.

And yet, you couldn not stop scribbling notes at every random moment of inspiration. You clung to the memory of your characters.

Like a parasite or an infection, the idea of your story plagued your mind for weeks, months to the point where it never seemed to leave you. You could barely think straight about anything else, even cleaning.

Half-drank cups of coffee at every corner of the desk, loose napkins with random thoughts written on them, a garbage can full of tissues, candy wrappers, and tea bags, a folder filled with printed images of your dark-haired, blue-eyed muse, and a stack of books that you checked out for "inspiration" but hardly touched.

The floor surrounding your desk had a thin layer of dust, wherever there weren't fallen pens you hadn't the heart to pick up, or papers you abandoned.

Am I meant to be a writer, or am I simply possessed?, you contemplated over a cup of stale coffee. Am I truly, clinically insane with obssssion? Am I doing the right thing, or have I finally lost my mind? Maybe I'm just crazy...maybe I'm wasting my time, doing the wrong thing that was never meant for me.

Or maybe I'm just not worthy of being the person who...does things. The person who flourishes in doing something they love.

But just as you were about to put your head down on the one free space on your cluttered desk, you spotted a mysterious note in parchment.

It read,

I believe in you.

I believe in every part of you, even in that couple of paragraphs you've stuffed in your desk (which honestly should be cleaned, but you won't do it.).

I believe in you because I know who you could become.

Because I know who you really are. You're a talented, blessed individual burdened with a glorious compulsivity to write and far too much fear for your own good.

But who you really are, it does not matter. It is all about the stories. The adventures.

There is a last refuge for the unloved and the desperate, and the persecuted.

When life gets too impossible, when life gets too terrifying, find hope in this, my talented scribe. That when all else fails, remember that you are a branch on the tree of life.

And in the center of that tree, there is someone watching over you, protecting you like he's always done before, and will continue to do so.

Your branch is just beginning. So marvel me, and marvel yourself with all you do. My blessing is with you.

For all time always.

Loki

[esamastation]

hi!!! i just wanted to pop in after reading some of your AC fics (ones where desmond, ezio, and/or altaïr are at the forefront so in this case: i was born for this, terrible two, stone angel, gift of living well, impermanence, three fold, & earthly scene) and say that you're a brilliant writer. as someone who's trying to write longer, more impactful stories, it's admirable how you prioritize the plot and how romance is a sweet part of it. (this is part 1 of this message bc of the word count!)

you construct romance in an original, cathartic way that feels effortless. i just finished 'i was born with this' and the romance that forms between the characters feels so natural and unforced. another thing i love in your fics is that when desmond goes back in time, he always (unintentionally at first) makes an impact in furthering knowledge, inventions, etc centuries ahead of when they were supposed to happen. more importantly, desmond finds his well-deserved happy ending.

your fic ideas are also so creative and out of the box. i'm currently going through the games right now and desmond has been so so much shit (unwillingly) and he deserves some rest and happiness :,) another thing i love is how you always leave a hopeful ending that makes me ache to know what happens after!! you flesh out the characters so much over the span of + 100,000k words, tie things wonderfully at the end, and make me feel out breath (in a good way)

yeah, to sum that up, you're an amazing writer!! i also wanted to ask you some questions about writing. i aspire to write long fics, but i struggle with plotting out events =( i feel like i rush the events in how i want to get to the end where the characters are happy! do you have a writing process? do you plot out your stories or kind of go with the flow? do you have any tips on improving your writing? i totally get if you don't have any advice! have a great day!

-

Thank you for your nice comments, sorry it took so long to reply, I was feeling very antisocial. Anyway.

I do not have a writing process - I'm what they call a gardner writer, I take characters and I put them into situations and see how things develop and plot either happens or it doesn't. Maybe I have vague plans like "here's a scene I want to see in future" and "this is a result I want them to come to" and then try to write towards those goals, but they don't always pan out. It's all very chaotic and leads to lot of dropped fics, but it's how I enjoy writing. (It really helps having someone reading your stuff and poking at the plot holes though, I got a lot of fics that only got as far as they did because nimadge or someone else was there along for the ride.)

I dunno if there's anything other that just practice that can improve a person's writing. Some people recommend writing short stories and flash fiction, some people say your should write X amount of words every day. If all else fails there's thousands YouTube videos on subject.

Personally I'm a huge advocate of taking ideas from other people and putting your own spin into them. Derivate, rehash, put them in a blender, see what comes out. Like, don't copy Lord of the Rings word for word and publish it as your own work, that's bad - but maybe dwarf and elf going on adventures together is a idea that could go places. Fanfiction is all derivation upon pre-existing ideas.

Related, I whole heartedly endorse anyone who wants to take plots and ideas I've written and taking a crack at them with their own style. It's pretty much how I learned to write as wee bab on a typewriter, stealing from the books I enjoyed. And hell, if you don't have a style, try someone else's. One is my most popular fics started with me trying to emulate the style and cadence of narration of a completely unrelated TV series I was watching at the time. I don't think anyone even noticed.

Once you have enough practice under your belt, your style will develop on its own.

[funnycreatortimetravel]

So the Madoka Magica movie is coming out and there's a lot of speculation about how it's going to end (or rather, be the start of a new series of movies/a show? Idk, it was extremely vague.)

And while I love the idea of Homura and Madoka ending up together because they both deserve some happiness, I can't help but feel like the best ending for Homura at this point is letting Madoka go so she can become a healthy adult (which, let's be real, that's not possible in this world.)

And by "letting go," I don't mean cutting contact or abandoning her, I mean they can still be friends while Homura can become a person who sees herself worthy of living with or without Madoka. Because as much as I love my favorite tragic lesbians, Homura isn't her own person in the relationship with Madoka.

Like, Madoka has a loving family, loving friends, and people cheering her on. And even if she doesn't believe she's good enough to do anything, she still objectively has things going for her, a safety net if you will. And she still has a goal in mind that doesn't involve one specific person, but rather she wants to become someone that people can depend on/wants to help other people (regardless if this is at the cost of herself.) I'm not saying it's a good or even a healthy goal but with some tweaks, I could see the goal becoming something she could work toward as a means of personal growth and not just because she thinks she's useless.

Meanwhile, Homura doesn't even have parents as far as we're concerned.

The only ties she has that we're told about are the catholic school she attended and the hospital she pretty much lives in. No friends, no family, and no aspirations of her own. And because of her circumstances, she really wouldn't be able to. It's no fault of her own. I get why, then, she attaches herself to someone like Madoka. I'm sure ANYONE would attach themselves to Madoka if they were in the position Homura was in.

And then that starts the obsession. A long, tiring journey in which this poor girl sacrifices her mental health, her youth, countless years spent trying to save this doom girl and her doomed friends while she herself is also doomed. She's pretty much made herself Madoka's sole protector while also not allowing herself to even do or enjoy the one thing she wanted in the first place; being Madoka's friend.

It's all but confirmed that Homura hates everything about herself as seen in her backstory and rebellion when she was destroying her labyrinth. Her saving Madoka is the one good thing she thinks she's associated with, so much so that she's OK with dying either to protect Madoka or in a world without her.

Like, the concept of one person being the only reason you continue existing is so unhealthy (note that I'm not saying their relationship itself is, it's just her mindset.) I completely understand wanting to help your friend you know...not die a terrible death, but Homura doesn't think she has anything going for her outside of protecting someone else and that's such a sad thought to me. She thinks of all her past friends as enemies now, and she alienated herself from everyone. She thinks, now, that it's her versus Kyubey, the other magical girls, and Madoka herself. The girl is borderline, if not entirely, suicidal.

I'm hoping so badly that in the next movie, this is the start of healing for Homura (though it probably won't be because Mr. Uro loves his sad/bitter-sweet endings.) I hope this is the start where she's able to piece together who she is outside of wanting Madoka, who she could've been had Kyubey not manipulated her and the other girls into making contracts, had her parents not died, had her body not been as fragile as it was, had her confidence been strong, had she felt she was good enough to befriend and get close to other people without fearing her hurting them or them hurting her.

Sayaka was able to let the bitterness of not being with Kyosuke go, accepting that even though she wanted him, she couldn't be with him and even if she was, she never would've been happy. She was able to realize the flaws in her "ideal magical girl" concept and accept the fact that she's just one person and even though she's not perfect and didn't get the thing she wanted, she's still able to be a hero in her own right in the company of people who actually love and support her because she's Sayaka Miki, not because she's a heroic magical girl.

Mami was able to be honest with herself, similar to Sayaka, that she's not a perfect person, that the perfect magical girl illusion was never her. She's able to admit to herself that she was inherently selfish that all she wanted was friends and family, and that there's nothing wrong with that. She doesn't have to keep up the pressures of being perfect and mature and all-knowing because, at the end of the day, she is still that little girl who almost died in a car crash that claimed her parents' lives, and she has to live with the fact that she didn't and wasn't able to save them even when she had the chance to. And she's able to come to terms with the fact that though she was alone, she didn't have to be lonely. She's able to realize that it's not too late for her and she can make her own family that will stick around with her, flaws and all. And she can be a good role model for her little sister surrogate and also orphan Nagisa, but this time, she can be a realistic big sister rather than an idealistic one.

Kyoko can move past the pain of her family's demise, and unlike Mami, feels as though she is directly responsible for it. She was a naive kid who only wanted the best for her family and yet, by doing the "right thing" her father goes on a massive suicide-homicide rampage and she's left to think that her naivety, that her wanting to do the right thing, was what killed them. But no, it wasn't. It's ok to have hope and to have the desire to help others and do the right thing. While the actions of the wish were undesirable, it didn't change the fact that Kyoko's heart was in the right place and that she could continue to try to help others without fear of it coming back to haunt her. She can let the tense guard she's had up since her family's death and enjoy the little things in life she never got to when she was too poor; food, drink, comfort, and having others around that care about you. While she thought that it was her wish and her misunderstanding of what her father wanted that ultimately killed her family, it's the same desire and intentions that push her to save Sayaka and befriend her and the other girls later on.

Now Madoka is an interesting case because she, like Homura, is sort of trapped in being who they were before they gained powers.

Now that Madoka is essentially back to where she started (unlike everyone else who at least has something/someone in their lives now in Rebellion compared to the OG series where they were missing those intimate connections) again,

she's left to feel like she's missing a key part of herself (only in the OG series, she was missing the confidence she had the in OG timeline as a magical girl whereas, in Rebellion, she's literally the missing part of the Law of Cycles) and you're left to wonder if she'll be satisfied, or will she challenge this new world that seems too good to be true, a world that was made just for her and only her?

And Homura?

Poor Homura.

Being an orphan and having no one, not even doctors or nurses it looks like, be close to you? Being unable to live comfortably due to a physical condition you had no say in? Having to be behind because of said physical condition and then having an inferiority complex WHILE teachers belittle you for things out of your control? So then you consider yourself a burden and truly believe only death and loneliness await you? AND YOU’RE ONLY 14???

And then you think you've met this amazing person, this girl who thinks you're interesting and cool with no ulterior notices, a girl with amazing powers that are as wonderful as her only to have the rug pulled under you and realize that the cost of those powers and your protection is her's and others like her inevitable demise.

So then you attempt to right that wrong because even further than your want to save your friends, you know the system that they're in is objectively terrible and needs to be torn down.

But then you try to warn said friends about the system and all they do is belittle you and admit they're comfortable in something that's designed to kill them before they turn twenty, and when (or even if) they're finally aware of the system and the terrible reality of it, they STILL blame you for not telling them sooner even though you tried your damn hardest? Or even worse, try to KILL you after they find out for themselves?

And then top that off with an oppressive alien race trying to control you and pretty much end your life prematurely or turn you into an immortal Lovecraftian Paper mache creature that looks like it was created by five-year-olds should you fall into despair at the hands of this default depressive system and you'll have to remain like that, killing and trapping people while you have no memories of your life as a human and have to live as an animal of pure instinct and evilnesses until some unknowing other magical girl puts you out of your misery, and the cycle will rise and repeat eternally.

Then not to mention other magical girls who try to "game the system" (which only leads to them dying/witching out even earlier, indirectly harming the girl you're trying to protect) or even worse, the girls see you as competition because they're insecure/power hungry instead of joining you in taking down the system set up so where death is an inevitable thing regardless, indirectly siding with the species that are literally killing them slowly but surely (and yet you're somehow still the problem in their eyes.) And then to add the shit sprinkles to this shit show of life, you have to battle this biblically accurate German clown of a witch that's a bunch of witched-out magical girls mashed together like a Cthulu-esque Ren and Stimpy-type creation (that's also pretty much invincible to everything that you and all of the nukes and missiles you store in a tiny, rinky-dink space-time shield you were pretty much cursed with while everyone else gets a built-in weapon.)

Not to mention the PTSD of having everyone and everything around you die and crumple to bits for 12 years over and over again, failing at every turn to complete the only goal you have for yourself (which isn't even for you, it's just saving another person because you believe you're extensible at that point) and at every twist and turn, you're beaten, bruised, belittled, scared, tired, pushed to the brink and all alone with no one to depend on because you're the ONLY one who can and will remember anything once you have to go back in time.

And then you learn the more you go back in time, the more fate and karma you're attaching to this girl which makes the aliens target her even more because of the level of potential she has. And even worse, you find out that the girl you've been fighting so hard to protect is now an entirely different person, lacking the confidence and outgoingness that made you fall in love in the first place, her desire to become a confident magical girl being unfulfilled because of you.

But you have to play the smaller evil. You have to deter her from making a wish, even if it means inadvertently scaring her away from the idea, even if it means being cold and calculated and harsh because she won't listen otherwise.

You have to crush that confidence because that desire will only lead to her death, but she can't know that because well, you still want her to trust you.

But because you've been trying so hard to scare her away from the idea of becoming a magical girl, she ends up becoming scared anyway and distancing herself from you, meaning you don't even have the comfort of knowing you two are friends anymore.

And even still, all of the other magical girls, including her, always end up dead or turning into witches no matter what you do, leaving you to fight the final boss witch alone and failing every single time because it's just too powerful.

But you can't stop. No matter what, you can't stop. Because stopping means death for you, the girl you love, and the entire world, whether it be because of Walpurgis or Madoka's witch which is only so powerful because of you and your time-traveling shenanigans.

So you do another timeline, and things go wrong like they have for the past 100 timelines so you're just numb to it now, and while you're fighting the boss witch, you get critically injured. And now armed with the knowledge that you'd just be putting an even bigger target on your friend's back, you resolve that your efforts were all in vain and useless and decide to just let yourself witch out because you have no other choice.

Only, you're interrupted by your friend, who's finally ready to put her fears aside and make a wish.

Your biggest fear is coming true and you're powerless to stop it.

So she makes her wish and becomes a magical girl Jesus pretty much and restores hope to every magical girl.

Every magical girl except for you.

She says your efforts are the reason why she was able to make such a powerful wish and thanks you for your service, as if you're an old veteran about to retire, and then she ejects you to a remade world, a world without her.

And you're doomed to fight in this world, the world she gave her life to protect, a world in which only you remember her. You don't let yourself become too close to the other magical girls for fear of losing that connection once the Law of Cycles takes them away.

So you're doomed, essentially. The one thing you've fought to protect is gone forever and there's no one but you left to grieve for her, and you start an endless fight against the new evil creatures in place of witches until you're about to disappear yourself.

But you don't even have the comfort of peaceful passing on because AHA!, that evil alien race wants to you use as a sadistic experiment to inflict suffering on you and the other magical girls while controlling the one saving grace you all had, to restart the terrible system you were trying to run away from in the original world.

So they place you in this fake simulation of happiness and fun and magical girl transformations all for the sake of controlling you and the girl you fought for and thought was safe.

So you take matters into your own hands and resign to destroy the labyrinth, even if it means your death, hoping the other magical girls put you out of your misery once and for all.

But if you die, then who would be left to protect that girl you love so much?

So you take matters into your own hands and override her power, creating an idealized world in which everyone can be happy at the cost of making all of your past friends your enemies later.

Even the girl you love and gave your life for time and time again.

All for the sake of keeping her safe once more from not only herself since you pulled a piece of her from the Law of Cycles, but also those terrible aliens who can only think about themselves and their sick curiosity.

I so badly want a happy ending for Homura, and I'm so hoping that that happy ending is one without magic or Karmaic fate or the weight of 26 years of repeated time travel or having to save her girlfriend from a terrible demise or dooming herself to magical Jesus type limbo for eternity all while she's the only one who can remember.

Outside of Madoka, what does Homura enjoy now in Rebellion? What were her dreams, if she had any? Her aspirations? What was her childhood like (even though we know it was lonely) was there anything in her life that even remotely made her feel that living was worth it?

If and when she becomes an adult, what will she be like? What career what she want to pursue? What interests her? What does she want the most for herself? Power? Fame? Company? Comfort?

And will it even be possible for her to enjoy anything outside of Madoka so long as she attaches her self worth to this one, ordinary girl?

Will she succeed in protecting her at the cost of herself? At the cost of anyone else excluding the kyubey?

Will she give up ultimate control over the world, or will she double down; ok with challenging her friends-turned-enemies all for the sake of her love?

And if so, will she succeed as Madoka's sole, eternal protector forevermore, or she be dethroned and killed, left to rot in a labyrinth of her self-hatred and mistakes? (God, I hope not.)

Or...will she finally be saved and released from the shackles of fate, time, and space so she can live her life as a normal girl, a life she wasn't granted even before she made her wish?

My excitement for this movie is beyond real.

[ithaquakisser]

if i can do a headcanon request could make ithaqua jealous of another hunter with you being survivor, in a two hunter match

please, if it's not in the way❤

— Jealous Ithaqua in a Duo Match...

Synopsis; Ithaqua finds himself in a pack hunter match with another masked hunter, The Ripper. The two of them agree on a friendly match. However, Ithaqua doesn't seem to appreciate your lack of attention on him.

CW; N/A

WC; ≈520

Note; This was actually on my mind for a bit! Just the other day I spoke with a mutual about Ithaqua trying to seek out the reader's attention, what a coincidence you brought this idea to mind! I also had a situation a bit similar to this in a duos match... Everyone kept crowding around the other hunter so I had to take matters into my own hands, hehe. /j

♡ Ithaqua could never bring himself to say it aloud, but he gets jealous quite easily. If he’s not wearing his mask, you could see how he’d visibly pout or grimace. He does not do well with hiding his jealousy, and often at times his actions already does the talking for him. Ask him, and he’ll never say it himself. “Me? Jealous? What makes you think that?”

♡ It’s not that he doesn’t trust you, he does not trust others to behave well with you. Despite the reassurance you’d give him, you cannot seem to tame the green-eyed demon inside of him that’d leave him in disquietude when your eyes are on someone else. His actions are subtle, but speak paragraphs upon paragraphs of words.

♡ When it came to a particular pack hunter match, he found it hard to contain himself. Being paired with another masked hunter, Jack, the two of them agreed on a friendly match for the sake of sparring themselves the trouble. Survivors would crowd the two of them with beaming smiles, yet only yours caught his eyes. Your grin was enough to make his heart jump in place, albeit seeing you pan your attention to the other hunter only shattered his aspirations. He’d hide his discontentment beneath his mask, biting the inside of his cheek.

♡ His mask shielded the moue on his face. Despite all the other survivors that’d crowd him, he still only wanted you to look at him. He made it his goal to gain your attention. Even if it were a mere glimpse of your face. Heart pounding against his chest, he’d use his ability to pull you away from Jack. His face heating up when you’d bump into him with a perplexed expression. Ithaqua would pick you up and carry you away from the hunter and the other survivors, carefully dropping you off at a cipher.

♡ He would not leave you alone, and he’d remain by your side for the rest of the match. He’d follow behind you whilst you tried to finish the remaining ciphers. Occasionally he’d jest, pulling you away from the cipher with his ability. Ithaqua would even use abnormal to reset the cipher’s progress to impede the match’s completion, all just to have some spare time with you. He knew very well what he was doing, even if he was pestering you, he at least still had your attention.

♡ He’d refuse to let you go, carrying you from cipher to cipher. Leaving the survivors tilting their heads in confusion, questioning the relationship between you two. If no one had known of your relationship prior, they’d certainly know subsequent to this match. The moment Jack would waltz close to you, he’d pull you away. The hunter heeded the message with no further questions, simply nodding his head and proceeded to go about with the other survivors.

♡ After the pack hunter match you’d definitely ask him about the events of said match. His face was flushed, he’d simply turn his head away and deny each word you spoke. “Jealous? I was not jealous.” In the end, you’d always find yourself holding his mask in hand, peppering his face with kisses. Teasing him in regards to his jealousy, whispering sweet nothings. "You know I am yours, there's no need to fret."

[sacredthethreadgvf]

Limelight |Jake Kiszka x Reader | Prologue

A/N: Hey everyone! I'm back at it..you know me, ideas pop into my head out of the blue and occasionally we go on a journey together. Please note that while this follows the band and Jake closely this is a fictional story. I currently do not have a posting schedule or a plan on how many parts this will be so bare with me !! As always, I appreciate alllll the feedback and love chatting about stories with you all ! I cannot wait to see where yet another enemies to lovers trope takes us! A very special shout out to @joshym for hyping me up over this story and being a beta reader for this upcoming series (I appreciate you so so much!!). This is just a little prologue to start us off on our journey. MINORS DNI this series !!! This will contain smut at one point!

Summary: Jake Kiszka is a pain in the ass to put it in simple terms. But you loved your job, you actually needed this job more than anything. However, shining shoes, refilling water, folding towels, applying eyeliner, etc. was not exactly on your agenda. Neither was falling in love with the type of man you usually steered far, far away from but yet here we are. Being Jake Kiszka's personal assistant has brought trials and tribulations beyond belief but maybe, just maybe, they were worth it all in the end.

Prologue Warnings: None. Unless you want to count swearing?

Limelight. 

Between both aspiring artists and fans alike, the chase and the thrill of the limelight could not be beat. 

You craved the limelight personally, more than the average fan of music. You wanted a taste of it for yourself ever since you were young but being the center of public attention? Well, scared the hell out of you. So you settled for a different type of “Limelight”. The type of limelight that brought along all of the green rooms, the thrills, the music so loud and close you wouldn’t be able to hear for days following the concert. You craved to just be close to your favorite musicians without having to pay a pretty penny. You craved the backstage limelight. 

You had applied at ReverbPR for a simple assistant job to navigate your way through the music industry to make a name for yourself. You went to college to be a producer of music but found it hard as a young girl fresh out of college with little to no experience to have anyone take you seriously in Nashville. So you settled to be an executive assistant for frontmen, guitar and bass players and drummers alike in hopes to market yourself to these artists to then eventually work with them one on one with their new albums. 

You were working away at your profile on LinkedIn in a little coffee shop early on a Monday morning when you got the call from your boss Brian. 

“Pack your bags, I found a new client for you.” 

Your heart raced from excitement. Things with your previous client did not work out well for you. You had been paired up with an up and coming rock band who’s misogynistic ways both on stage and off made it a very uncomfortable work situation for yourself that was taking a toll on you mentally. You had called Brian after a month and begged him to pair you with someone else. To your surprise he agreed and sent your replacement to the band and thankfully, that was the last you heard of them. 

So when you heard from Brian you were now paired yet again with an up and coming rock band of young men, your heart sank and your blood pulsed in your ears.  But Brian had assured you that this band was different and you wouldn’t be working with all of the band members, just one this time. 

Higher following on social media and a good reputation. 

So you agreed but had a mind to keep your guard up just in case. 

That night, following a few glasses of wine, you lifted your roommate's cat off of your lap. You ignored the soft protests that sweet little Isabel made and reached out for your laptop sitting on the coffee table. You typed ‘GRETA VAN FLEET’ into your browser and fell into a deep dive on the quartet from Michigan and their rise to fame. 

Meanwhile, thousands of miles away from you, a young guitarist was preparing for a night of revelry. 

“Why do you always have to be such a dick dude?!” Jake exasperated, shooting a glare across the room to his better half. Actually, lesser half in the eyes of Jake at this given moment. 

Jake's arms were crossed against his chest and he was leaning against a table. His hands were preoccupied with a cup of wine and a little black eyeliner pencil that was about to go to waste. 

“Because brother Jake,” Josh paused and closed his eyes as his assistant, Rose, spread silver glitter across his eyelids. “Beauty like mine takes time! My rhinestones aren’t even done yet.” 

He closed his eyes again, avoiding the sharp glare from Jake. 

“It's not going to take long to do two little black lines under my eyelids.” Jake threw a hand in the air. 

He could tell Josh was getting irritated quickly as Jake was interfering with his “Quiet Time” pre stage ritual bullshit. “Exactly. You can do it yourself.” 

“Josh,'' Rose protested softly. “It really won’t take me that long.” Josh’s eyes popped open in a warning his sweet assistant Rose then back to Jake as if to say ‘Get the fuck out of my dressing room’.

Jake rolled his eyes. “What fucking ever. I’ll get my own damn assistant then and you won’t be able to steal them.” 

As he walked back to his own dressing room clad in his silver stage suit, the faint sounds of fans chanting “GRETA! GRETA! GRETA!” filled his ears. His senses were heightened. No matter how many times he’s been on stage. No matter how many pep talks he has given himself before, he will never shake the butterflies. 

Now to add to the butterflies was pure rage. A sense of frustration with his twin and he didn’t even have time to do his goddamn eyeliner. 

He made a plan in his head to talk to his manager about it tomorrow. It was time he had his own damn help around here.

[foxalade]

"never did see one without the other, did you?"

SOBBING.

Sirius and James are just so idk how to explain it?? I can't BELIEVE Sirius went to Prison because he was framed for killing his BEST FRIEND. HIS SAVIOUR. Literally his platonic soul mate. I can't believe so many people knew them and didn't even bat an eye when he was put in Azkaban.

The fact that people were just like "How could he?" and then moved on with their lives, while Remus was distraught at losing ALL of his best friends in one single night.

SIRIUS FOUND HIS BEST FRIEND DEAD. I'm sorry but if I found my best friend dead in her house I'd die, HOW TRAUMATISING IS THAT?? Imagine going to check up on them and finding their house in pieces, and then finding them dead. His best friend. His family. HIS BEST FRIENDS WIFE. THEIR SON??? THEIR ONE YEAR OLD SON.

You know what's worse?

They probably had Sirius' Birthday all planned out. James and Lily were murdered on the 31st of October, 3 days before Sirius' Birthday on the 3rd of November. They would most likely all have bought and wrapped present, perhaps even booked a table at a restaurant or maybe concert tickets or whatever.

But they never went. Never got to do anything. Sirius spent his 22nd birthday locked up in Azkaban while James was dead and Remus was distraught and Peter was "dead".

Harry was taken away and treated like shit. James and Lily's one year old, ONE YEAR OLD, was left orphaned, with no idea about his parents or his parents friends. He could have had a life with Sirius, but that was taken away from him.

Imagine meeting a wanted Murderer, and he goes on to tell you that he loved your father so, SO much and that he saved him. Saved him from years of torture and abuse in his own household and let him stay somewhere safe. And then got FRAMED by their other best mate for his MURDER which he spent 12 YEARS in prison for.

Even when Harry did move in with Sirius during his fifth year, he didn't have very long with his father's best friend either.

Sirius died protecting the last piece of James he still had. After all of those years, Sirius still loved James, loved him so much that he died to protect his son.

"Nice one, James!"

HE DIED THINKING OF HIS BEST FRIEND. HE WAS THINKING OF JAMES IN HIS LAST MOMENTS ON EARTH. Not Harry, not himself, not Remus. JAMES.

Idc if someone thinks "It's so wrong that Sirius only saw James in Harry, and Harry only saw James in Sirius"

Okay, and? That was all they had left. Sirius was the closest thing to his dad, let the poor boy have that small piece of his life. And Sirius loved James. He said himself that he would rather have died than betray James.

And he would have too. If Sirius had been there when Peter and Voldy showed up, he would have told James and Lily to run and sacrificed himself so they could live a life full of love and raise their son.

James was Sirius' only family. Sirius had nothing without him. NOTHING. "Oh but what about Remus?" I love Remus, don't get me wrong, but Remus would never be able to live up to what James was for him. That boy saved him.

I hate it when people come after James. How could you say he was a horrible person when he literally took Sirius in. HE SAVED HIM.

And I just realised that Sirius didn't get to go to James' funeral. He never said goodbye. Remus was there, ALONE, still thinking that Sirius was the murderer and that Peter was dead too. Peter probably had a funeral too??? He wasn't even dead but because he pretended he was treated as dead.

Now imagine Peter's grave is next to James and Lily's. Think about that for a second.

THE GUY THAT BETRAYED THEM IS "BURRIED" RIGHT NEXT TO THEM. AND SIRIUS?? JAMES'S OTHER HALF???

Well. He isn't burried, is he?? WHY? CAUSE HE DIED FOR HARRY. JAMES 2.0. HE DIED FOR HIS BEST FRIENDS SON.

I can only aspire to have a friendship like Sirius and James had.

Ladies and Gentlemen and everyone else, thank you and good night

(it's not a good night and never will be a good night because James died and Sirius was locked up for it. HIS BEST FRIEND.)

[one-and-a-half-yikes]

Don't mind me but can you plz rant about colly a lil more... :3

I'll do you one BETTER @ch1-kasak0

I'm gonna talk about Colly AND do an accidental Cuphead analysis on the side lmao

I will say, it is crazy to me that years ago, one of the reasons I had for why I didn't like the idea of Cupanny was because I perceived Fanny as someone un-ambitious, who seemed to have a bleak outlook and no real hope for a better future, something that was completely antithetical to what Cuphead needed in his life.

Obviously I don't hold that viewpoint about Fanny anymore, but I do think it's funny how that critique of mine (which I never shared on here I should add and I regret it lol) came back around but in an unexpected way. The Labyrinth arc was genuinely the deepest look we've gotten into Cuphead. With the thing that hit me the most stepping into Cuphead's dream and really seeing how much of himself is consumed by the guilt he feels about making a deal with the Devil, was how that guilt had basically consumed his personhood in a way.

Mugman dreams of being a pilot for the Calix Animi, of marrying Cala and having a whole, completed family; that his parents never left, that his dad was alive; Mugman dreamed of a future for himself. A fantasy that could never really be real, at least mostly, but it was a future nonetheless. Everyone, except Felix who's a special situation given his circumstances, dreamed of a future. Something that they were fighting towards even after they left the Labyrinth.

Except Cuphead.

He could never envision a future for himself, because so much of what made up who Cuphead was as a child was stripped from him that he's essentially a husk of who he was. We saw the real Cuphead in his dreamscape. He had aspirations, and goals he wanted to reach. But when your whole is spent struggling to survive it's hard to have real goals and aspire to them. It's hard to dream a dream that you hope comes true.

And then the gala happened.

Something that seemed out of reach for someone like himself suddenly seemed like a real, genuine reality within his reach. All because of his love for Holly. His love for her made him finally see a real future. A real dream. For one second, Cuphead didn't think about a bleak horizon that he was walking towards, but instead a beautiful sunrise that he wanted to walk towards hand-in-hand with Holly and it says a lot. It really does. In my Cuphead analysis I did say that his dream was still him in the background playing the role of Cuphead the Supporter rather than playing an active role in his own future where his own ambitions and drive exist alongside Holly's. But it doesn't detract from how much his love made him see something that for the longest he never saw as possible and that means something. It really does.

But oh, bitch I'm not even done yet. Y'all asked for this!!!

There's this one scene, I'm too lazy to go back and find it again (EDIT: I couldn't find it for some reason so my source is trust me bro), where Cuphead and Holly, and maybe Mugs was there I think, were talking and Holly said something along the lines of "I like your childish side" (paraphrasing). And that stuck with me, because when, in the other previous relationships that Cuphead had, has he ever been told that being his actual true self is the part they like the most about him? That the sulking badboy persona who's all rough edges and mysterious isn't nearly as interesting as the real him.

The thing I think a lot of people sort of forget, is that for Cuphead it's not a persona, it's just who he is. Because everything else has been stripped from him via abuse and threats to himself and his brother. From unethical experiments forced on him as punishment, to beatings from the boss when they screw up a job, to being yelled and cursed out by Hat because they messed up during training, and so on. So much of who he is, who he was, was taken from him and all that's left is whatever identity Cuphead needs to put on in that exact moment. Mugman was right when he said that for Cuphead, it's always about the damn mission. Keeping him and his brother safe, desperately trying to right his wrongs, and just trying to not have anyone see his weaknesses means the Cuphead we saw before in the Labyrinth is a ghost. Someone else entirely. A speck in the distance that feels entirely out of reach now to Cuphead.

But there's this part of him that he's tried to keep safe and held close and we see that in the Wonderful Winter arc. When Cuphead and Mugman started chasing each other, throwing snowballs at one another, it's the closest we get to seeing Cup in a light where he's not putting on a persona; the real him. And Holly notices that, too. But not just that she notices that, but that she is intrigued by it enough that she wants to get to know him more.

Holly had a crush on Cuphead, but the Tree Princess chapter is where she really fell for him. Which makes sense cause that's the chapter where she truly realizes the depth there is to his character and how multifaceted he was as a person. He wasn't just a killer thug like she'd first assumed, but a true complex person, just like her and all the other Questers.

And I think that's fucking beautiful man.

Of course I'd love to gush about Cuphead's perspective on Holly, but there's not really enough to say outside of:

You know it's true love when you're willing to spill all your secrets to this one person; to bear your whole heart and soul to them if it means being able to have them back in your life.

[whumpshaped]

a concept just rammed into my head and i will now share it with my fellow Ambac Rotators on this blog: beck and helle species(?) switch

beck as a (relatively) new vampire

helle as a vampire hunter

no idea where this is gonna go. i just had the sudden image of human!helle pinning down a vampire 🛐

good day anon. i finally have the tentative spoons to engage w the fantasy (that ive been meaning to write for FOREVER and ur ask served as a good reminder of my goals and aspirations thank u)

masterlist

vampire hunter beck

tw vampire whumpee, dehumanisation, pet whump

Beck had been overly cautious every time he went hunting. He had to be, as a stupid little runt without anyone to protect him.

He had crawled out of his grave and into the clutches of a woman he barely recognised, only to immediately be discarded once she realised he couldn't use magic. He had begged her to leave him alive at least, promising to stay out of her way and go 'hunt' on someone else's territory; not his proudest moment, but then again, he had little to be proud of lately.

He hunted as best as he could, picking off lone passerby and muffling their cries as he drank his fill, too frantic and hungry to really care about causing pain. Then he disappeared for days, sometimes weeks, terrified of drawing attention to himself. And the cycle would repeat.

Until one day, he slipped up and chose the wrong target.

Beck had never seen a hunter before, especially not so up close and personal — and now that they were straddling his waist and putting a stake to his heart, he decided he didn't fucking like them. He had his hands up on either side of his head without having to be told, completely still in an attempt to appease the hunter who had caught him.

"You're the runt," they stated, not even a hint of doubt in their voice, but Beck nodded anyway.

"Yes, sir," he breathed, very aware of the sharp point digging into his chest whenever he dared inhale.

The title wasn't a conscious choice, really. He'd had to talk his way out of quite a few confrontations before, and if there was one thing he'd learned throughout all of it, it was that manners never hurt.

The hunter looked amused, leaning down a little and inadvertently placing more of their weight on the stake. Beck tensed under them, squeezing his eyes shut in anticipation of his inevitable demise. "Sir? Have I gotten myself a polite little leech?"

"I can be very polite so long as I'm alive, sir," he said hastily, and they chuckled.

"Alive... as if. Don't flatter yourself. I've seen corpses that looked better than you."

Beck pressed himself even more against the ground. "You're right, sir," he squeaked. "You're right. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

"Hey, listen." They clicked their tongue at him, like one would to get a pet's attention, and he reluctantly opened his eyes again. "I've got a deal for you."

"A... a deal?"

Was this common? He had nothing to compare this to. Were all hunters like this?

"Only because you're so well-behaved." They pressed down on the stake a little, as a gentle reminder for Beck to keep behaving, and he was suddenly very eager to nod along. "You see, runts are pretty rare. And regular vampires... they can't really be kept. It's a one and done deal, I come in, I stake them, I get my money."

That was simple enough. Terrifying, but simple. But also– "K-kept?"

"Kept," they repeated, grin widening. "Like a dog."

Beck swallowed. He had a feeling of where this was going, and he did not like the implications. "I... I see."

"And while I'm pretty successful, as far as hunters go... This is a dangerous job. I could use a buffer."

"No," he said timidly. "Please, I can't do anything, I can't– I can barely hunt, I'm starving half the time–"

"I could do with bait, too," they interrupted, shushing Beck when they saw him open his mouth to protest. "And of course, because I deal fairly, I'd let you have some blood in exchange. Can't have a pet without feeding it."

That... That made the offer sound much better, all of a sudden. He hadn't had anything to drink in at least a week, getting by on whatever dead animal he could find in the parks at night. Drinking from roadkill. His mouth was watering at the mere thought of human blood, even though the hunter hadn't yet specified what they'd be feeding him.

"Mmm, what is it? Interested?" they taunted, and Beck couldn't resist nodding a little. He wanted someone to protect him so badly; apparently even if they were a hunter.

"What... what do I need to do, sir?" he asked as respectfully as he possibly could, already wincing when the hunter pulled out a collar from their coat pocket and threw it into his hand.

"First things first, put that on. We'll discuss the rest on the way home."

~

taglist: @whumpsday @the-scrapegoat @hidden-dreamland @delicateprincepaper @whumppmuhw @florissimps @nicolepascaline @oliversrarebooks @thecyrulik @pirefyrelight @there-will-always-be-blood @pigeonwhumps @echo-goes-mmm @whumpycries @morning-star-whump @d-cs @watermelons-dont-grow-on-trees @tauntedoctopuses @blueyellow8green @typewrittenfangs @whumpsoda @steh-lar-uh-nuhs @auroragehenna @whumpedydump

[visacardteamloverrr]

i'll be waiting - c.s.

warnings!!!!!!: my first ever work, pls do not come at me, english is very much not my native language and also this is not proofread. i had this idea for a looooong time and now im sleep deprived so enjoyyy

genre: angst, sort of

inspired by cian's ducrot song - i'll be waiting

<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<

leave your keys if you're not coming home

if carlos noticed your absence at home, he would already try to confront you about it, no? after all you hadn't been in your flat for something around five weeks.

that's enough time to realize that something or rather someone is missing, right? and yet, still no call.

maybe he didn't see the blank space in your wardrobe, or the lack of your cd's collection. well he would at least see your keys laying on the table.

you were moving in, now you're moving on

carlos should've known better as to let you go. he couldn't even recall when you stopped sleeping in your, no, his bed, and when your beloved cd's collection disappeared.

it came rather natural. without big fights, without screaming and crying.

somewhere in between his races and your work, you began to lose each other. and now there was nothing else left as to move on.

he aspired to do it like you moved out - slowly but steady.

wish you'd call so I could say goodbye

no matter what, you still missed him. yes, you were enjoying yourself since you broke things off and yes he broke your heart, but there was this compulsion and you couldn't quite put a name on it. you felt as vital part of you were missing and you wanted to call, to say that you should try again, that this time it will be better. but you knew better than lowering your standards for a boy. if he couldn't give you what you wanted then you wouldn't settle for less. charles and lando had let you know how miserable carlos is, but you have put yourself first. now it is time for you to be yours number one priority.

however, you wanted closure. you wanted to know that splitting up was the right choice. you wanted to ultimately close this, his chapter of your life.

you just wanted to say goodbye.

and let you know, i'll wait for you every night

there is a saying about appreciating something when it's gone, and that's how he felt. carlos let the love of his life slip through his fingers.

the best thing that's ever happened to him were you. whenever he was winning, whenever he was frustrated about his race, whenever he felt like the whole world was against him you were there for him.

you were the light of his life, his anchor. and he still couldn't appreciate you enough. somewhere on the way he'd taken you for granted.

[alitherandom]

Bad Batch is almost over so I'm going to ramble. If anyone can relate, please reply or reblog. Share what this show has meant to you, share your thoughts, share theories, tag people. Let's give it a send off.

Star Wars has been a massive part of my life for years.

I loved everything about the Clone Wars, the world building, the character development for the jedi, but most of all the clones. As someone who finds it hard to read faces, it was fun getting to know each of the clones as individuals with their own personalities and I actually never had any issues telling them apart. It hits hard, I think that's what makes their stories even more tragic.

Echo and Fives are my favourite Star Wars characters so I was really happy when Echo came back in Clone Wars season 7. That was why I decided to watch the Bad Batch- it then became my favourite series.

I'm not entirely sure what I'm going to do when this show ends. I think the hardest part is not knowing what the galaxy has in store for the batch and where it could go from here. Whatever happens I’ll always be grateful for the experiences I've had as part of this community over the last few years.

I think that's what's great about being part of a fandom. Seeing all the different ideas and projects that get put out there every day as well as knowing everyone else is in just as much suspense as I am. I haven't interacted on here that much until the last few months, but I check the tags a lot and all the fanart has been immaculate. The writers and artists are crazy talented and work so hard, I admire the level of dedication and aspire to be like that. 😂

I'm also really grateful for the three seasons we got with Clone Force 99.

Seeing Echo go from a shiny in the Clone Wars to becoming who he is now. (I could talk about that for ages, but I'll save that for another post.)

Seeing Crosshair regain his trust in the batch and get to change.

Seeing Hunter step up for his brothers and Omega.

Seeing more sides to Wrecker's strength.

Seeing Omega go from that kid who'd never seen dirt before to learning from her brothers and proving how brave she is.

And lastly, seeing Tech make the choice he did back in season 2. It wasn't easy to watch, because he deserved more time and there was definitely a massive hole in season 3 without him.

I'm not ready to say goodbye to any of them.

My favourite episodes in season 1 were the last few, when Kamino fell. It was the end of an era as well as a new beginning.

My favourite episode in season 2 was episode 8. I was really proud of Echo, plus he got a hug from Omega which I have admittedly rewatched far too many times.

My favourite episodes in season 3 were episodes 13 and 14. The stakes have been so high and it's been great seeing Echo's ARC skills in action again. (Plus the dialogue with Rampart was top tier. Hate that guy, but it was hilarious.)

I'm well aware of all the theories for the finale. I'm choosing to ignore most of them, but I’d like to present my own.

I hope Echo gets to finish what Fives started and the clones can finally be free, including Tech if he's CX2. I hope the batch gets to burn Tantiss to the ground and fly off into the sunset with Omega and the kids from the vault, and then I hope they continue a lifetime of bullying Rampart. I also hope Emerie gets to whack Hemlock with a steel chair, and then the Zillo beast can eat him.

…After all, Star Wars is based on hope, right?

If anyone actually ended up reading this to the end you're a real one- have a great final Bad Batch eve, and may the force be with you.

[oh-yeah-i-exist]

Let me take care of you

Astarion x Durge OC (Eiji) oneshot

Author's note: the idea came to me when I realized I'd been giving all my healing potions and strong spells to Astarion.

Content warning: some gore (par for the course in this game), a bit angst but mostly fluff. Might contain SPOILERS.

Camp was more quiet than usual. Fighting a conniving wizard and his elemental myrmidons had not been an easy feat - even Dame Aylin, who had emerged victorious against yet another villain aspiring to exploit her immortality, had fallen into contemplative silence. By her own words, revenge felt... hollow. In quick succession, the proverbial "bad guys" had fallen by their swords and spells, but when would it all end? Was the end where they really wanted to be? A long road lay ahead, with the Elder Brain still writhing violently against its loosening chains. The party knew what they had to do, knew the price of being the hero, but Gods, a deep exhaustion had settled into their bones this night and none could shake it off quite so easily.

As she peeled off her dusty boots, Eiji mulled over her decisions. Though many in the group would sooner keel over and die than admit they were following anyone's leadership, the bulk of strategic planning had fallen on her shoulders. And as if resisting her psychopathic god of a father was not enough of a monumental task, she had her companions' conflicting desires to balance. Choosing Dame Aylin over the powerful wizard, who could have been a valuable ally instead of a useless, crumpled corpse, was one of those bets she was not entirely certain would bear fruit. Strong and fearsome as the Moonmaiden's shining offspring was, Aylin's temper may yet prove to be her undoing - without thinking, without a single moment of hesitation, the paladin had charged headfirst into battle, practically forcing Eiji's hand. Being referred to by the celestial being as "ally mine" afterwards was barely a reward, and it appeared that even Isobel understood the tension when she'd expressed her fear of her lover's future folly and offered her thanks.

But without any clear recollections of her bloodied past, there was not much else Eiji could rely on besides her instincts. And her first instinct was to never betray her companions, her friends, no matter their faults.

Rummaging through her pack, she was surprised to find five bottles of superior healing potion. She could have sworn her stock had been down to only one or two, especially since she had explicitly refrained from using the precious resource during battle. Even with the mysterious surplus, she figured there was nothing a night's sleep wouldn't fix. No point wasting the very thing that could save someone else's life the next day.

"You know, I do feel for the Dame, considering how revenge against Cazador gave me less catharsis than... well, emptiness," came Astarion's voice behind her back. As was natural for creatures of the night, the pale elf's footfalls were as light as a feather and made no sound, allowing him to make her heart jump whenever he drew near on his own accord.

Straightening up from reorganizing her pack, Eiji sighed in agreement. The movement caused the wound on her back to stretch and throb painfully. She tried to hide a wince, but nothing escaped her lover's blood-red gaze.

"Gods, there really is no justice in the world, is there?" continued Astarion with a frown, taking her pack from her hands. He strode towards a fallen tree trunk nearby and motioned for her to follow suit. Since that one evening in the Underdark, which felt like a century's worth of ceaseless struggle ago, they had grown accustomed to sharing these private conversations while the rest of the party hunkered down for a long rest.

"I wouldn't have gone to the trouble of sneaking these into your possession if I'd known you were too stubborn to use them," Astarion abruptly changed the subject, his tone going from contemplative to annoyed.

"I-- what?" Eiji turned to look at him, genuinely confused. It was the last thing she'd expected him to mention, given where their conversation had started. "Don't tell me you didn't even realize you had healing potion on you," the elf rolled his eyes.

"No, I... I saw them," though not quite understanding what the fuss was about, Eiji went along with his harmless banter. "But I don't think I need them, really. I'll just go to sleep and wake up tomorrow, good as new."

"By that same logic, the rest of us should just snooze our injuries off instead of using the potions you so generously lavished on us," he pointed out. "Or is there something special about Bhaalspawn physiology that I might want to know?"

"No, I don't think so..." she answered under her breath. Vaguely, she was beginning to catch the drift beneath his characteristic quips. "But I don't lavish anything on anyone. I do what is necessary," she insisted. It was not entirely the truth. Only now did it come to her attention that indeed, she'd been loading her companions with as much aid as she could, her own safety be damned. And she might even be guilty of favoritism, seeing how she invariably made it a priority to shield her lover on the battlefield. It was as though her body moved on its own, without so much as a conscious thought on her part.

"And you find it necessary to leave yourself an easy target?" Astarion retorted, almost angry at what he deemed utmost foolishness. "Gods, I should have known you were doomed when you first started feeding Gale our hard-earned loot."

"That was necessary, too. Can't have him blowing us all up one sunny day," she chuckled, half-hoping the joke would persuade him from this particular line of inquiry. But she could see it in his eyes that he wasn't going to let it go. She could see his worry behind the annoyance, his concern and affection. Hells, she could see his love that she returned in equal measure. "I just don't want to see anyone hurt. I don't want to see you hurt. I wouldn't be able to think of anything else during a fight if..."

Astarion's expression softened as he listened intently to her quiet words. Gently taking her hand in his, he asked, "And has it ever occurred to you how much it pains me to see you fall?"

She said nothing in reply, rubbing his knuckles with the pad of her thumb in an effort to soothe him.

"There has been enough pain and suffering in my life to haunt me for a thousand years. If you're really asking me to stand aside and lose the one person I've ever truly cared for, then you should just drive a stake through my heart and end it all," he said shakily, lacing their fingers together so she'd know there was no smoothing over the matter. "Let me take care of you. Please."

For a moment, she refused to look at him. But he waited. Until she finally caved and leaned her forehead against his, letting him support her wary body. "Alright," she breathed, arms circling around his midriff for an embrace.

"Alright," he smiled, his hand coming to rest at the nape of her neck. Gingerly, he pulled away just enough to be able to examine the cuts on her cheeks. "I've got you, darling."

[thethirdgenesisbooks]

How to Put Words in Your Book - 5 Tips to Actually Start Writing

There is a problem among a great many writers and aspiring authors: so many of us never actually put any words into a Word document. Some writers will spend years developing a story idea. They’ll think of everything; the world-building, the characters, moving scenes, but never actually sit down to write the story.

Sometimes this comes from a lack of confidence. Writers think, “What if my story isn’t good enough?” These writers need to realize that the only thing worse than a bad story is the story that’s never written at all. For other writers, the reason why they can’t seem to actually get anything written is because while they know where the story has to go, they don’t know how to start. For still others, the problem is simply a matter of motivation.

Here are five tips to help you get your story rolling:

1 - Read the Opening of Someone Else’s Novel.

Sometimes, it can be hard to know what sorts of details to introduce first in your story. Do you start with a physical description of the character? A quote? A scene with characters in peril? Seeing how other authors started off their books can be helpful in this regard. I’d recommend reading the opening of a novel in a different genre from the one you’re writing. That way, you aren’t tempted to borrow too heavily, and can focus on putting out your own material.

2 - Listen to Music.

My wife and I developed this game that we sometimes play that utilizes her skills as a musician and mine as an author. I’ll sit or lie down on the couch with my eyes closed, and she’ll start playing an original, improvised piece of music on the piano. As I listen to the tune, I’ll start to describe a scene that the music brings to mind and tell a short story. Similarly, whenever I sit down to write one of my books, I listen to instrumental music that’s appropriate to the story I’m working on. I recommend that if you choose to use music to inspire your writing, you make sure it has no lyrics, as your writing may start to reflect the words you hear. I also recommend not using music that you associate with a particular scene. For example, when I tried writing while listening to “The Barber of Seville,” all I could see when I closed my eyes was Bugs Bunny shaving Elmer Fudd. You want music into which you can put your own meaning.

3 - If You are Spiritual, Pray or Meditate.

This piece of advice is pretty simple. If you are a spiritual or religious person, then before you write take a moment to stop and either pray or meditate. There’s a reason the Greeks thought goddesses called “muses” inspired art. The right side of the brain is associated with creativity, intuition, and spirituality. So, activate that side of your brain by doing something spiritual. Personally, when I was writing the first novel in my Third Genesis fantasy series, I prayed every time that “words would flow from my fingers to the page.” Most days, I wrote around 3,000 words in that book.

4 - When Stuck, Get Up and Walk.

You’d be surprised what even the tiniest amount of exercise can do for you. Do you have stairs in your home? Walk up and down a few times. Do you have a stationary bike? Ride it a little. Any form of exercise, however small, can get your mind going.

5 - Act Out the Scene.

Do you know your characters well enough to know how they speak to each other, what their goals are, and what they want out of life? Then play pretend for a bit, as you might well have done when you were a child. Improvise the scene, and pretend that you are all of the characters in the scene engaged in a discussion or struggle. You may find that you’re not good at improvising their dialogue, but that’s alright. When you say it out loud, you’ll get a better idea of what’s natural conversation. You’ll also gain some insights into what the characters would or wouldn’t do, based on what they want.

These are just a few things you could try to get the creative juices flowing. All of these have worked well for me. Good luck and happy writing!

[mysticaldeanvoidhorse]

Forged in Love

Hephaestus x Aphrodite!reader

Page break credits @firefly-graphics

Master list

Part 9

taglist: @streets-in-paradise @floraroselaughter @stitchattacks

taglist open :)

     When you returned, you filled Athena in, per her insistence.  You didn’t tell her everything, saving some just for yourself.  She was very encouraging, saying that this seemed a wise match.  You had tentatively thought so as well but hearing it confirmed by the goddess of wisdom helped to seal matters in your mind.  The only thing stopping you was that you still didn’t know him very well, he was very guarded, though you knew enough to know he was more open with you than anyone.  And that made you feel really good.  Funny how you were the goddess of feelings (more or less), yet this guarded man who didn’t let anyone in made you feel better than all those who constantly tried.  The irony was not lost.  It was funny to you how you had thought he was a recluse who was not worth anyone's time, whenever you thought about him which wasn't much, until you met him just once.  However, was this a good idea?  Rushing into a marriage with someone who you hardly knew, even if he seemed like the best option?  Was another god you knew better a good idea? You were running out of time.

“The truth is, you don’t have much time to decide.  Hera likes the idea and would bless this marriage.  I am unsure if she would bless anyone else for you.  And though her marriage isn’t something to aspire to, her blessing is still very much needed.”  Athena had told you, after you confessed your doubts.

“I understand that, but is he too good to be true?”

“Everyone is on their best behavior in the beginning to be sure, but you know the other gods and they are not options.”

“But what if he turns out to be the worst of them all?”  You were starting to panic.

“It is true you do not know him well, but what does your heart say?  You of all of us would know best if love can be found from the both of you.”  You were silent for a moment, unsure what the truth was.  You thought you knew the answer but were scared in case you were wrong.  The last thing you wanted was to be trapped and even if he was a wonderful choice, you were still being forced regardless.

“Listen to me, my friend.”  She started again.  “You can talk to him and make it clear what you expect once you are married.  If not love, something where you do not hate each other. Find an agreement you can both live with so being together is not a nightmare.  I don’t want to see you wither away like Hera.”  She gave you a sad smile, and hugged you then left.  You had a lot to think about.

     A few weeks had passed and you realized that no matter what, this was going to happen.  So you needed to talk to Hephaestus and make sure you were on the same page like Athena had suggested.  He had agreed to meet at his forgery once again, not liking to leave and though you felt at a disadvantage you knew the location wouldn’t matter; the conversation was going to be difficult regardless.

“Hello Hephaestus”  You started, a little awkwardly.  He had brought you to another balcony overlooking yet another lovely piece of land that stretched for miles.  You mused to yourself how lovely it would be to spend many days out here.

“What can I do for you?”  Not one to beat around the bush, not that you had expected it of him.

“Honestly, it is a little awkward, but I think we need to talk about this forced marriage.”  His expression darkened just a bit, or maybe you imagined it.

“What about it?”  He asked, in a deeper, not as friendly tone.

“I guess I wanted to make sure that this is what you want, and if it is, what our expectations of it are.”

“Expectations?”

“Yes.”  

“Such as?”  He lifted an eyebrow.  His was an intense gaze, and the only one you ever felt the need to shy away from.  Any other god you could flirt your way around it, but not him.  You couldn’t be fake with him, even if you tried. And you didn’t want to

“I am not naive to think that though we are… getting along right now, that we still don’t know each other very well.  And I don’t want to wake up one day knowing that not only do me and my husband not get along, but that we could hate each other.”  Again no expression.  What you would give to know his mind.

“Like my mother.”  Interesting that this was the first time you had heard him refer to Hera as mother.

“Yes.”  You hated to admit it, but you feared turning into her one day.  Locked away, barely surviving, hated by her husband, respected by none.  The thought alone made you shudder.

“What is it that you want of me?”

“I want…that is I-”  You didn’t know what to say.  

“Do you want a companion?  A friend?”  He took a step closer.

“Well yes, but-”  Another step.

“You want someone who you can get along with and live amicably with?”  Another step.  He was so close you could reach up and kiss him if you wanted.  The thought shocked you.  Where had that thought come from?  And why was it the only one in your mind?

“Or do you want passion, love, fire?”  His eyes bore into your own.  You would be lying if you said you didn’t like the intensity.

“I am the goddess of love, of course I want that.”  You whispered.

“And you are worried you won’t find that…with me?”  You couldn’t read his emotions but thought that maybe there was some sadness in his eyes.

“I’m scared, Hephaestus.”  He nodded, smiling sadly, and began to back away.  The moment you couldn’t feel his heat you reached for and grabbed both his arms to which he instantly tensed up.  But you noticed he didn’t back away.  “I am scared that I won’t yes, but having met you, I am scared that I might actually get all that I want.”  He slowly brought his arms to wrap around yours.  “I am scared that you are too good to be true and once this.. Connection, this spark dies down, we will be left with nothing.  So my hope is that at the very least we can live together amicably, as you say.  That I won’t hate my very existence knowing that you grow tired of me.  That I am not at all what you want.  That you will resent me for forcing you into this marriage.”  You hadn’t admitted half of this to yourself and yet it was all the truth.  He had a way of making you be honest with yourself, a good trait since love can blind.

“This is what bothers you?”  He searches for more but does not find it.

“Yes.”  You barely whisper.

“Then let me tell you my fear.”  No sound could be heard, you held your breath knowing that whatever he was about to say would change everything.

“I fear that you are going into this blindly.  That you see an option that is the best of the worst, and will quickly change your mind and feelings.  That you will see me for what I am.”  It had hurt you to know he thought you so trivial but you knew that it was also in your nature; you were emotional and emotions change and are fleeting.

“I know that I am trivial,  but I have changed a lot.  I cannot promise I won’t become more sound, that is who I am; I am Emotion.  But I can tell you that love will not change.  Will I get upset, go crazy?  Most definitely.  But love..that does not change.”  You knew whether you loved him or not, but knew it was not the time to say yes or no to it.   “And I do see you for who you are.”  You could tell he wanted to pull away, so you moved closer, so that the rest of your bodies were practically touching.

“I see a man who has so much more to offer than others see.  More than he himself sees.  A man who would help out a complete stranger and have next to no expectations of her.  Someone who is always doing things for others and thinks he deserves nothing in return.  I see a man with so much to offer but is so humble.  I see a man that I could easily love.”  His coal eyes had a flicker of fire and you thought it was the most beautiful thing.

“Is that truly what you see?”  He asked in such a vulnerable way, your heart ached.

“I see so much more.”  Your hand reached to cup his face.  He visibly relaxed, closing his eyes for a moment.

“Then I think your fears are unfounded.”  You smiled.

“I think yours are too.”

[anxiously-sidequesting]

So I don't know if it was ever revealed how Duncan felt when we killed Malistaire all three times but I'm wondering if maybe some part of him could hate us for that too. Like you hear that and you go "but why. Malistaire was terrible and even Duncan knew that(?). Why would he hate you for getting rid of him."

But like I think it's so....... interesting in a very, very, very sad way how Duncan so easily latches onto anyone who directly feeds into his delusions of grandeur. And that's no fault of his own that he was manipulated by the nasty Schism but when you think about how desperately clung to the idea that Malistaire, easily one of the greatest necromancers any of us had ever heard of (at that time), somehow actually recognized Duncan's talents (even when canon supports that Duncan wasn't all that talented, at least no more than the next necromancer) and then praised him for it so often that Duncan believed that he would be the next Death Professor is. I mean ☹️

So like with that mindset I unfortunately feel like it would be quite easy to twist even Malistaire's death as something that's horrible and awful and all our fault. ESPECIALLY if the Schism was feeding into Duncan's already broken mind and shattered ego and was constantly telling him that everything bad that ever happened to him ever in his life was Our Fault. That's like a realistic conclusion that someone like Duncan could come to

And like, at this point in time, are Malistaire's crimes even a factor in how he thinks????? Was Duncan ever able to separate Malistaire's talent and skills and prowess from the terrible and awful things he did? If Duncan wasn't able to consciously tell that distinction in the first place I can't imagine it would be any better during the years he was being manipulated and isolated and lied to

Like in Duncan's mind it probably isn't, "maybe I shouldn't idolize a national criminal, or idolize anyone at all for that matter, and aspire to be like someone so harmful when I can recognize my own talent and build from there" it's probably more like, "you (the wizard) permanently got rid of a brilliant mind, an innocent person who just made a few mistakes, and someone who believed in me no matter what just so that you could be the better than me and loved by everyone else" and that's! very sad actually!