#please save everyone from her misunderstanding...

[thalassicradiance]

integrumsol replied to your post: There’s secrets afoot. She can feel it… Just what...

“Who’s dating?”

“Aqua and Ansem. They keep talking about stuff in secret. They probably don’t want anyone to know they’re dating.”

[viaviavie]

OPERATION CINDERELLA-SABOTAGE [HEARTSLABYUL]

in which he rescues you from your very short-lived wedding.

SUMMARY: due to a massive misunderstanding, a prince from royal sword academy is set to wed you at sunset. thankfully, your un-princely crush is here to save the day and crash this lovely wedding.

PAIRINGS: everyone x fem reader (separately)

WARNINGS: they're being a bit dramatic, characters are 18+, makeout (cater)

NOTES: this is echoes the ghost bride event, but listening to this prompted me to write out this scenario instead. i made this for shits and giggles, so have fun with this!

HEARTSLABYUL | SAVANACLAW | OCTANIVELLE | SCARABIA | POMEFIORE | IGNIHYDE | DIASOMNIA

There was no way you would be able to say 'no' now, not when there were hundreds of Royal Sword Academy students and even more members of a random royal family whose last names you cannot recall waiting outside that door. Aside from a completely oblivious Neige and Che'nya who was nowhere to be found, there was no one you could really ask for help to get you out of this mess.

You turn to your supposed betrothed with frantic eyes, shaking your head wildly. "I already told you, I'm not the one you danced with at the ball!" Your hisses fell on deaf ears. That damned prince from Royal Sword Academy was too busy making the 'goo-goo' eyes at you to even register what you were saying.

"I just happened to have the same shoe-size!"

Damn it, why did you have to agree to fitting some missing girl's shoe?!

Pierce Charmant, possibly the most delusional guy you have ever met in Twisted Wonderland, clung onto your calf with a stubborn expression. He had no intentions of letting you go, and neither did his five other guards that had blocked your way.

"You have to be her!"

"You don't even know my name!"

You were really counting on Grim to get someone, anyone, to stop this wedding. Yet, as you are walked down the aisle by the fair Neige, you are already planning out a divorce settlement plan. Based on the number of guests here, who had filled this entire venue from top to bottom, you would have guessed that this prince was rather rich. If it was to be an unhappy marriage, at least your wallet would be more than compensated.

You managed to convince this prince to send invitations to Night Raven College, but that didn't matter. He was so excited and in a hurry to marry, that your friends barely had any time to rescue you! There must have been so much traffic with the mirrors that they couldn't even use them! There was just no way that they'd make it in time now.

And so you consign yourself to readying some divorce papers within the next few weeks, and planning out how to avoid any more interactions with this guy while you were married.

You stood at the chapel's base, your expression exasperated than ever as you kept darting your gaze to the door. You've already tripped over the aisle a few times, fumbled the scripted vows, and even called for a bathroom break or two to stall.

And now comes the big moment that you were so desperately trying to avoid.

"Would you, Pierce Charmant, take the Ramshackle Dorm Prefect, as your lawfully wedded wife?"

The prince smiles so sickly sweet, and its the look of a man who won't change his mind.

"I do."

You grimace as the officiant faces you, just as blind to your annoyed expression.

"Would you, the Ramshackle Dorm Prefect, take Pierce Charmant as you lawfully wedded husband?" They didn't even use your name!

You pause, the image of your crush flashing before your eyes.

You would never see him again if you let yourself get married. Defiance returns to your face as you suck in a deep breath, ready to deal with the consequences of rejecting this delusional prince in front of hundreds of people.

"I—"

"I object!"

RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS

"Grim, please explain to me why I received an invitation to the Prefect's wedding... I am calm, Trey. I would just prefer to know the details before I go and fetch her myself... and may I ask one more thing? Yes, hoW IN THE WORLD DID THE PREFECT GET KIDNAPPED LIKE THIS?! DON'T YOU DARE TRY TO CALM ME DOWN, CATER. I AM PERFECTLY CALM."

Riddle calmly asked about your whereabouts, and it does not take him long to immediately get to work. As one of the better respected housewardens among the roster, it was easier to ask for a few favors that could get him to that damned cathedral fast. However, as the traffic did pile up to get to this accursed wedding, Riddle finds himself on horseback.

He does have this awful crush on you, but it never really crosses his mind. Even as he holds certain feelings for you, it's at the back of his mind. Riddle values your autonomy, and this marriage was a massive red flag. Surely, you cannot have possibly agreed to such a thing. It was just not in your nature. You would have protested, and the fact that you are not back in campus means that something is preventing you from speaking your mind. Riddle really respects you in this aspect!

Still, the idea of you marrying some prince who barely knew it was absolutely absurd. Riddle won't allow it, he absolutely won't!

The doors were flung open with a loud thud, revealing a red-head in a suit. Much to your surprise, Riddle isn't burning red with a fiery rage and threatening to have everyone's head off. He's stomping towards you and your supposed groom, fist clenched as he throws out an arm out of anger. He doesn't seem too angry, but determined.

"ENOUGH! SHE WILL BE COMING BACK TO NIGHT RAVEN COLLEGE WITH ME NOW."

Okay, maybe you were wrong about him not being angry.

His voice echoes throughout the entire cathedral, followed by several flinches at his sheer volume. Immediately, the crowd by the rows inch back a bit further as he continues to march forward, ignoring the guards that seemed to hesitate to approach him. Pierce raises a brow, almost annoyed rather than fearful of this disturbance.

"There seems to be a misunderstanding. You see, the Prefect is going to be married to me. You can sort out your affairs after the ceremony is over." Well, that didn't seem to help one bit, judging by how Riddle seemed to fume even further at this statement.

The housewarden comes to a halt, sucking in a sharp breath to calm his temper. The last thing he wanted to do right now was to frighten you.

He breathes out your name, sending a stutter through your heart.

"Do you truly want to marry this man?"

It almost makes you swoon, the way Riddle looks at you so earnestly as he asks for some affirmation. Had it been any other scenario, you would've taken your time to bore your eyes into his and study his expression. Instead, you shake your head wildly, racing down the aisle until you have hidden yourself behind him.

Riddle has the nerve to smirk at the shocked Prince. "And here, I thought princes had a code of conduct when it came to their ladies." He turned back to you with an assuring look. "I'll take you home, Prefect."

Truly, Riddle had no intentions of playing around. He had only one objective, to get you out of here. Just as he turns around to escort you out of the cathedral, a pair of guards had blocked the exit.

"No, I cannot let you leave!" Pierce cried out, ready to give chase. "Prefect, please! Give me a chance. You cannot possibly be ready to leave me for... this guy!"

Riddle's eye twitches as he cranes himself to look at the prince. "You have some nerve!" He clicks out, clenching his fists once more. Everyone feels the cathedral heat up, those closer to the aisles feeling beads of sweat form upon their temples. Even as you looked at Riddle so gently, a part of you was somewhat grateful that he was sticking up for you.

Just as his top was about to blow, you muster the will to tug on Riddle's sleeve. As quickly as his reddened face came, it disappears when he glances back at your soft expression. Huffing out a heavy sigh, Riddle clicks his tongue and marches towards the exit.

"Let's be on our way, Prefect. We shouldn't waste our precious time on these trifles."

Needless to say, no one really wanted to test the housewarden's patience as he escorted you out of that Cathedral. Riddle certainly doesn't waste time hoisting you onto his horse and galloping away, not giving the prince a second to try and retrieve you.

He grumbles about the entire ordeal, mostly questioning the absolute ridicule of the marriage. What kind of prince thinks he can get away with it? Riddle is certain to send a complain to Royal Sword Academy regarding their lessons on conduct if no one tries to stop him.

You could easily see Night Raven College from afar as you peeked from behind his tuft of red hair. Riddle is still rambling, a preferable alternative to losing his temper entirely. "That ruffian dares to marry you and has yet to learn your name! How uncouth!" He spat in absolute distaste, and he finds comfort in the way you giggle in agreement.

Riddle doesn't seem to take note of the way your arms are crossed around his middle, or maybe he does, and just chooses not to let his blush show. He cleared his throat, gripping the reigns a bit tighter. "You will find better suitors, Prefect. Just promise me that he wouldn't be so impulsive as that Prince."

TREY CLOVER

"Can you drive any faster, Deuce? No, I don't think we're late. Better safe than sorry! ... Suit, check. Speech, check. Myself, check. I've got everything in order, but... hah, I'd expect to do this type of thing a few years down the line, let alone object at a wedding at all. At least, it's the Prefect's wedding... That's such a weird thing to conceptualize at this point in time."

He really didn't have to be so dramatic about the entire thing, but Trey is really going all-out for this objection. Really, all he's done is seen movies where someone objects at a wedding and while he knows its entirely fictional, our boy here has to drive the point home; no one is marrying the Prefect today.

So that explains why he even bothered to dress up and rehearse a speech throughout the entire ride to the cathedral. He has Heartslabyul helping him out to secure an escape for you in case things went awry. Sure, Trey's Unique Magic won't come in handy but he's good with his words, and is relatively charismatic. He's earned that title of Vice Housewarden, after all.

All that preparation flies out the window when he sees you down the aisle, however.

"Trey?"

He's blinking profusely, almost flustered himself by how radiant you looked in that wedding dress. For a moment, Trey swears that he's had some sort of tunnel vision when all he seems to see is you. It strikes some envy in him when he reminds himself that this wasn't his wedding, and this wouldn't be yours either.

"Prefect..." Trey breathed out, struggling to recall the damn script he was supposed to follow. They are lost, just as he found himself lost in your sparkling gaze.

Screw the script, he was just going to have to wing this one.

He narrows his eyes onto the shocked prince, taking steps down that long carpet. "I've come to bring you back to Night Raven College."

Pierce raises a brow, glancing back at you and the intruder with suspicion. "On what grounds?" He questions snidely, uncertain of what to make of this new character. "If it is for anything trivial, then you may bother the Prefect later. You are obstructing a ceremony here, sir."

You recognize that dangerous glint behind Trey's eyes, and it only serves to make your heart race. Trey simply smirks, hiding away his hesitant exterior with a haughty farce. "I am afraid it cannot wait. I cannot allow the Prefect to be married without saying my piece."

He doesn't exactly know where all his bravado was coming from, but if he had to confess his feelings to you now, then so be it.

Trey looks at you, flashing a gentle yet sheepish smile. "Prefect, I fell for you. Hook, line, and sinker." You let out a dramatic gasp along with the onlookers, allowing a hand to fly to your parted lips. "I have harbored those feelings for a long time now, and I cannot bring myself to see you married without letting my heart be known."

Swallowing to himself, Trey's expression falters slightly, falling into one of softness. "Prefect, it is your happiness that I desire. No matter what happens, I will support your choice."

He didn't exactly have to tell you twice, not when you hurry yourself over to his side and latch onto his arm. You didn't have to feed his ego like that, but it isn't as if Trey had any room to complain.

Pierce is angered by the sight, glaring daggers at Trey with such envy and animosity. "Prefect, are you really leaving me on the altar?" As if to subtly annoy the prince even further, Trey hooks an arm around your waist and pivots you to turn. "It seems to be so, Prince Pierce. I fear that your beautiful bride will be stolen on this lovely afternoon."

You do not miss the way Trey smirks at your flustered expression. Just as he continues to walk you to the exit, you gritted your teeth at him. "Don't say such things!" You tell him as the heat rises to your cheeks. You hear him hum at your ear, followed by the slight press of his fingers on your hip.

"Why shouldn't I? You look beautiful in this dress," Trey murmurs in your ear, pushing the cathedral door open with his hand. "And I suppose that the prince hasn't coaxed this expression out of you. I almost feel sorry for him, that he never got the chance to see how lovely you are when you are putty in my hands."

Trey doesn't stop teasing you, even once you are back in Night Raven College. He wouldn't stop complimenting you either, aiming to have you as red as possible. He just can't help it. It's probably the high he got from confessing his feelings to you, or maybe it's the part where you're unsure if he was being sincere or not. Regardless, it was fun seeing you get all flustered because of him.

You are seated by the Heartslabyul's kitchen counter, snacking on some quick treats that Trey had prepared for you. He claims that it was a consolation for the fact you never got to taste your own wedding cake. Still clad in your grand wedding dress, you couldn't exactly care any less about the crumbs soiling the skirts. "You're no prince charming, Trey." You mentioned mid-bite, eyes glancing at the vice-housewarden who was seated across from you.

"What makes you say that?" He asks you with a slight smile, resting his chin on his palm as he shamelessly bored his gaze into yours.

You snort, rolling your eyes at his seemingly sweet disposition. "Prince Charmings don't tease the girls that they like until they're as red as Riddle." You huffed, digging your fork into the pastry. "You cruel man! You haven't stopped ever since you stole me from the prince!"

Trey chuckles, and you cannot keep yourself from gulping as he leaves his seat, sauntering towards you like a lion would his prey. "Oh? I suppose that I am no Prince Charming. I'm not a pure white knight either. If you think I am being cruel, I won't stop you, sweetheart."

Your heart stutters as he slides a finger underneath your chin, tilting your head so that your forced to look his way. Trey smiles at you, eyes twinkling with absolute mischief. "I highly doubt Prince Charmings steal kisses from their crushes either. For you, I will be kind. May I, sweetheart? I do not need your shoe size to know my feelings for you, at least."

CATER DIAMOND

"Gah, it just refreshed! They've just gotten past the walking part! Deuce, shortcut on your left! Sorry, I'm switching tabs between maps and the livestream! Prefect looks is such a cutie in that dress, it makes me so envious of the prince! Oh well, she really looks like she doesn't wanna be there anyways. I'm coming Prefect! I'll save you!"

There's just this image of Cater clinging onto Deuce on a blastcycle, raising his phone up for a signal as they attempt to maneuver their way through the streets. Everything just happened in such a rush, and Cater's scrambling to get to you. He isn't like Trey who bothers to prepare, but if anything, Cater will ramp up the dramatics to the maximum.

His real goal is just to get you out by any means necessary, and more preferably, without violence. So Cater will do what he does best; make a grand spectacle of the entire thing until the prince is forced to abdicate. Worst case scenario, he's going to drag you out the door and shove you onto the damn blastcycle.

If he has to play the part of your real paramour, then he hopes you'll forgive him. He's got the suit and the desperate look on his face ready to go!

Your jaw goes slack at the way Cater makes a dramatic run for the aisle, somewhat unused to that stricken expression on his face. You're almost concerned for him with the way he grips his knees, attempting to keep his balance as his eyes zone in onto yours.

"Prefect, you can't marry him!" It's too out of character of Cater, and you know better than to think he'd ever be this undone in public. "Is this what you really want?!" Before you could even reply, Pierce cuts in with a slight glare.

"And who are you to talk to my bride like that?" It is then when you catch wind of that mischievous glint in Cater's eye as he throws out his arm dramatically.

"I am the Prefect's sweetheart! Who are you to take my girlfriend like that?"

You have never heard the cathedral go so silent. You are utterly speechless, lips parted with absolute surprise. Clearly, judging by the way sweat had begun to form on the side of Cater's temple, you cannot help but think that this was all improv on his half.

Pierce turns to look at you, almost stricken by the ginger's declaration. "Prefect, is that true?" His voice trembles with fear. "Is that truly your... sweetheart?"

A part of you feels a bit sorry for what you were about to do, but you had to remind yourself that you had been dragged into a wedding on the same day you met this prince.

You are running now, sprinting to Cater's side as you clutch his hand in your own. Turning back to the scandalized prince, you nod firmly, playing along with the farce. "We've been dating for a long time now! And I'm in love with him!" You declare, sending gasps throughout the entire cathedral.

You glance up at Cater, mustering a smile across your features. "You came to save me!" He's almost surprised by the way you cling onto him even harder, but it only serves to sell the act even further. Cater smiles in return, holding you closely. "I'd never let you go, cutie. I love you too much to let you leap into the arms of another man."

Maybe the act is too good, too calculated. That is exactly what goes through your head as Pierce raises a brow in suspicion, narrowing his eyes onto the pair as if attempting to spot a mistake. "Is that so?" He murmurs until he crosses his arms, disbelief on his skeptical expression.

"Prove it."

Cater and you freeze up simultaneously, heads turning to glance at one another. He looked so caught off guard by Pierce's demand, and there's so many eyes on you both.

"You're both longtime sweethearts, right? I wouldn't want to split apart such a happy couple..."

Cater is staring at you, attempting to read your expression. It's difficult, especially when you look at him as your gaze gets even more glossy. He wouldn't want to do anything you didn't want to, and he's already readying himself to sprint out the door with you in tow.

"Prefect, you don't have to—mmph!"

You wasted no time in snaking your arms around his neck, pressing your lips against him with such boldness. He could feel you pour all your wants and longings into the kiss, the plush of your soft lips melding into his own. How could he not deny you his own affections, not as he cups your cheeks with his slender fingers and presses back against you.

He dares to go even further, pulling back for a slight gasp of air before diving back into you. Much to his delight, you aren't pulling away either, choosing to even entangle your fingers into his hair for leverage.

Then you hear a groan from the prince, followed by his pleas for you two to stop this display. It seems that he got the point now, at least.

Even as both of you exit the cathedral, Cater still maintains the image that he was your boyfriend. You don't exactly protest, and even then, it didn't seem to different to the way Cater had been treating you as a friend. He is still as clingy as ever, closing the physical proximities by having you hang onto his arm.

And you best believe he's snapping as much photos of you to commemorate the event. He's already updating his MagiCam account on his success, not to mention the pretty girl on his arm.

"Cater, what are you doing?" You asked, unable to hide the grin on your face as Cater sets up his camera against the tire of the blastcycle. You could see yourselves on the reflection of the device, followed by the grand beauty of the cathedral behind you both. He grins at you as he shifts at your side.

"What? It isn't everyday a cutie like you gets to look like a bride. We got the perfect backdrop!" He sings, sliding an arm around your waist as he strikes for a pose. You follow his lead, matching his energy with each shot.

"Careful! People are going to think we're dating for real!"

Cater smirks at you, leaning in closely to your ear with a sickeningly sweet tease. "Wanna make it official then, cutie? Can't have any random princes asking for your hand, not when you're dating me." He is not stranger to the way you blush, letting out a chuckle at the sight.

"Aw, cutie! Are you still thinking about the kiss? I didn't think you would be so bold about it." Pressing a quick peck on the cheek, he rests his chin on your head as he prepares for another pose. "Don't worry. CayCay's gonna initiate it next time!"

DEUCE SPADE

"Grim, which way?! I can't see the GPS! ... Don't I just have to go in there and yell 'I object'? It looks easy! I'll say it then drag Prefect out of there... Ha?! I need to prove that I have a good reason to get her out? Fine! I don't care, the Prefect needs me!"

Possibly the closest we will get to a legit Prince Charming. Perhaps Deuce is a bit on the rugged side, but he's possibly one of the most earnest and noble students from Night Raven College. He cares about you more than he cares about getting his feelings across, but that is not to say he won't be honest about it either in this confrontation.

He's not exactly sure on how to break up the ceremony. Grim and Ace are coaching him through what to say, and admittedly, the process seems too complicated. All he knows is that he has to run through those doors and convince the prince to not marry the Prefect by any means necessary.

"Deuce!"

He is the one to always come running at the sound of your name. Deuce had been someone you trusted during your stay here in Twisted Wonderland, and you never seemed to stop and think about just how attached that boy was to you. Sure, you held him closely as a friend and held affections for him, but the way he sprinted towards you was a testament to how much he cared.

"Prefect!" You are racing to meet him halfway, launching yourself into his chest. He catches you barreling into his suit, immediately wrapping his arms around you in a protective manner. Then he takes you by the soldiers, looking down at you with such concern and worry. "Are you hurt? Are you okay?" He fusses, earning a shy smile from you.

"I'm okay, Deuce. I'm okay."

"And what is the meaning of this?"

Catching sight of the infuriated prince, Deuce beckons you to stand behind him. Cerulean eyes narrow onto the groom with animosity, accompanied by the way his hands are itching towards his wand. "I can't let you marry her. The Prefect will be returning to Night Raven College with me." You can sense the nervousness in his tone, but Deuce remains firm in his words.

Pierce's eye twitches, and he scoffed in disbelief at Deuce's protective display. "I am afraid that cannot be possible. I am marrying the Prefect, and that is final." Clicking his tongue, Pierce rolls his eyes and holds out his hand for you to take. "Come, darling. I am not surprised that you have garnered the affections of an admirer, but I fancy you more than this one ever could."

Something in Deuce snaps as he lets out a cry.

"But I love her!"

You stiffen against his back, taken by surprise by Deuce's sudden confession. And the boy glares, and it almost so painful for Pierce to keep his stare, not when there was so much conviction and certainty behind Deuce's voice.

"I've loved her longer than you have, and known her much longer than that!" His voice cracks underneath the emotional turmoil bubbling within him. "Did you even stop to consider what she wants? Did you wonder if this wedding would make her happy in the first place?!"

You take note of how Deuce's fists are clenched pale, how his breaths had suddenly grown haggard. With a soft expression, you curl yourself onto his back, arms hugging him from behind in an attempt to placate him. His body stiffens against your hold, but he reaches to clasp your hands onto his own.

He is just thankful that you aren't seeing the way his eyes had begun to water at the thought of losing you entirely. "So please," He chokes out, expression twisted with a sort of agony.

"Please don't force her to marry you. She deserves so much more than that."

Thanks to the waterworks that Deuce had caused, the wedding was called off. There was just no way that the prince could marry you after Deuce poured his heart out to deter him from wedding you.

It's almost sweet, the way that Deuce lifts you onto the blastcycle and fixes the helmet onto your head. He encourages you to hold onto him tightly as he speeds away from the cathedral, all the more determined to settle you back into NRC.

By the time he's dropped you off at the Ramshackle Dorm, only then does he take the time to bask in how radiant you appeared in a wedding dress. Thinking about his crush in a wedding dress had never crossed Deuce's mind before, but this definitely gave him something to ponder about for the next couple of nights.

You are handing him the helmet, a shy smile surfacing across your features. "Thank you for saving me from that awful wedding." Deuce clears his throat, shifting his gaze as he takes the helmet from your grasp. "I didn't want you to do something you weren't willing to. It just isn't right."

He doesn't realize just how dry his throat as gotten when he cannot bring himself to keep his thoughts to himself. "I love you. I really do, and I wish I said it at a better time." He swallows to himself, letting the embarrassment burn into the back of his head as he recalls his declaration. It was only natural that 'like' would turn into 'love' after being your close confidant for this long, pining quietly during the months spent with you.

You cannot exactly blame him either, not when his feelings were entirely reciprocated. You shift on the balls of your heel, biting onto your lower lip.

And in a swift motion, you lean in to press a chaste kiss against Deuce's warm cheek. You pull away to bask upon the stunned expression on his face, only to give him a shy smile of your own.

"Would you be down to try confessing again tomorrow?"

ACE TRAPPOLA

"BAHAHAHAHA! THERE'S NO WAY THE PREFECT IS GETTING MARRIED. WHO WOULD EVER WANNA MARRY THE PREFECT? PFFFFT, GRIM, YOU'RE SERIOUSLY PULLING MY LEG HERE. YOU EVEN BROUGHT ME A FAKE INVITATION! AIN'T NO WAY THAT SHE— Oh... Wait, really? The wedding is happening right now? ... Oh."

Ace thought you were just messing him again for that one time he said that no one would ever be interested in you. He simply said that to discourage you from trying to pursue a relationship with anyone else, but he didn't mean for you to prove him wrong like that! He never believes Grim until Deuce, Riddle, and the rest of Heartslabyul receive invitations to a wedding that was meant to start in 3 hours.

This is the absolute worst time to be in denial about his feelings. The Prefect wearing a wedding gown is one thing, but another is the fact that the groom is some pompous prince from Royal Sword Academy. Does that guy seriously think he was your type? No way! Ace knows you better than anyone on this campus, so this guy can buzz off!

A part of him did think that you were serious about marrying this stranger. In all fairness, Crowley's allowance pales in comparison to whatever Mr. Money-Bags had over there. He wouldn't blame you if you were marrying the guy for money.

Still, the last thing he wants is for you to be whisked away to who knows where. Ace would never see you again, and as embarrassing as it sounds, he did get very attached to you. Yes, a part of him wants to keep you to himself, but he also values your autonomy here. And if he knew you that well, he knows that you wouldn't want to be married off like this.

"Prefect, I'm here to pick you up."

You are actually surprised by how princely Ace looked in that moment. Dressed in a suit befitting a groom, you could help but feel your breath stolen away once his scarlet eyes were pinned onto yours. You could have been fooled then, and perhaps, Ace did turn into a prince as he marched down the aisle with his arm outstretched for you to take.

Ace never realizes the way a victorious smile creeps onto his face when you break out into a grin, taking the skirt of your dress as you make run for it. The crowd gasps as you crashed into Ace's chest, and he does not hesitate to take a protective stance in front of you. With a haughty laugh, he smirks at the baffled prince. "Who are you?!"

The redhead's arm wraps around your waist, pressing your body closer to his own. "Sorry about that, but I'll be taking your bride indefinitely! Trust me, you'll be severely disappointed after spending one good day with her!" He snickered, much to your horrified expression. You lightly smack at his chest, glaring at him with that pout that he adores so much.

"Hey!" You whine, and Ace simply beams at the prince who hesitantly steps forward. The redhead snorts, rolling his eyes at the crowd that are offended at his immature display. "I'm doing you a great favor here! If you kissed those lips, she'll turn into an ugly green ogre by sunset!"

"HEY!"

Pierce's eyebrows are furrowed as he looks at you, as if pleading for you to return to his arms. "You'd best return her, boy. We can settle this maturely." Ace does not like the way that these bodyguards are eyeing him, shifting closer and closer as he backed you both towards the venue entrance. He never falters, and neither does that shit-eating grin on his face.

"Sorry, buddy. The clock's struck midnight and all your magic tricks are fading!" He barks. Now, he knows that an escape must be made. The last thing he wants is to have another Eliza-episode. He looks down at you with a wide grin, clasping you arm with a firm squeeze.

Ace sneaks into his pocket, still looking at you. "You know something, Charmant? Maybe not all the magic has gone yet." His hand reveals the Ace of Cards, and it is immediately thrown up into the air.

As the card reached its peak in height, a burst of smoke filled the air, obscuring the magician and yourself from view.

You don't exactly need a signal to start running when your feet began moving on their own, dashing towards the door followed by the Ace's laugh and the prince's demand for guards.

Ace has no white horse, but he has Deuce with his blastcycle! Who knows how the three of you managed to fit on that bike, but you made it work! The guards couldn't exactly catch up in their cars, not when Deuce was dodging vehicles left and right to make this escape. Ace did take one final look back, sticking his tongue out at the defeated prince before you all disappeared around the corner.

Ace gives you his shoes, despite how oversized they may be. You complained about those glass shoes on you, and to 'shut you up', he's given you his runners.

When you make it back to Night Raven College and all the adrenaline has died down, Ace stays by your side the entire time when you explain the entire situation to Crewel and Crowley. He acts so nonchalant about things, even as you both walk all over the campus like groom and bride.

It's a rather odd sight; you in your wedding gown, and Ace right next to you as you both sit on the bench by the Great Seven's statues. Students wandering about at night had given both of you puzzled stares, but no one is ever surprised when they realize it's you and Ace, however.

"Wow, Prefect. Not even a thank you?" He glances at your slightly annoyed expression, throwing his hands up defensively in response. "I was kidding about the ogre stuff! Really!"

You could only roll your eyes at his words, huffing as you crossed your arms across your chest. When you refuse to speak, Ace sticks out his lower lip into a pout as he leans his head onto your shoulder. "Come on, don't be like that. Are you actually that upset about it?"

There is no response from you, not even a glance as your nose is turned away from him. Then Ace sighs, practically clambering over your lap just so that you are forced to look at him. "Prefeeeect, I said I was sorry! What? Do I have to kiss you to make me apology authentic?"

Only then do you look back at him with a raised brow, almost expectant. Ace blinks with surprise, a slight blush creeping to his ears. "For real? You're serious?" He exclaimed, much to your agitation. You sigh even louder as you shove him off your lap, hastily getting up to your feet to leave him behind.

"Wait! Prefect, I said wait!" You feel a hand on your wrist, twirling you back to face the redhead. Ace bites onto his lower lip, unable to keep the red from flooding his cheeks. "I really just said all that mean stuff to get the prince off your back, you know? I didn't think you'd take it so seriously."

And when he sees that smirk creeping up onto your features, he groans as he leans in closely into your space.

"Now look at what you've done! You had me all panicked over what?" You feel his breath tickling your lips, followed by the way his hands crawl up your neck to cradle your jaw.

"If you just wanted a kiss, you could've asked..."

[dudewithastick]

Bad Luck Charm [15] - Homewrecker, Gold Digger, Burden & Bother

(Dr. Jack Abbot x Neighbor!Reader)

Chapter Summary: You’ve vanished from Jack’s life for a month, having him spiraling both at home and at work. When he tries to reach you once again, he encounters reason number two for your disappearance.

Word Count: 3.9k

Tags/Warnings: neighbor!reader, f!reader, reader uses she/her pronouns, age gap (reader doesn’t have a specific age, but the age gap will be thematized), no use of Y/N, no use of any specific physical descriptions for reader, reader has the worst luck ever, reader needs therapy, reader is a people pleaser, awkward!reader, slow burn, allusions to depression, allusions to eating disorders (not really), Miss Gertrude, Jack might go to therapy but he isn’t all that regulated, if you squint you might see Jack lowkey being a stalker

English is not my first language, so please excuse any grammar mistakes or typos.

A/N: I didn’t plan for this chapter to turn out the way it did, but at least it got me to upload the part now instead of taking even longer. The next one will most likely end the suffering!!! Yayy. If I forgot to tag you, please tell me! Also, feel free to let me know your thoughts, send me more ideas or random anecdotes :) my inbox and DMs are open!!

Masterlist | Taglist | Spotify Playlist | Wattpad | AO3

< previous part    |    next part >

Jack is in a mood.

By now everyone at the ER must know it with the glares he is sending, the constant thoughtfulness when being idle and the cutthroat energy he exudes whenever someone so much as approaches with a too inquisitive question.

Shen has become the usual suspect to get caught in Jack’s displeasure simply because his nonchalant way of probing and testing him and his equally nonchalant reaction to him being shut down are vexing to say the least. He seems to find enjoyment in Jack’s suffering, whether on purpose or not. And Jack would like nothing more than to have the same relaxed aura his fellow attending has right now.

He usually prides himself as someone able to keep calm and collected and  his work and private life separate enough–mainly having to focus on not dragging nightmares home with him instead of bringing baggage from the outside world into the ED. An advantage when one doesn’t have anything going on during the day and only lives for the thrill of saving and aiding lives.

This time it’s the other way around. All thanks to you. Or rather your absence, which has marked roughly a month by now.

It has unexpectedly become a reoccurring theme that you dictate Jack’s state of mind nowadays. The longer you keep your distance from him, the more he falls apart, not at last because he feels responsible for your sudden retreat. He should have fought for a moment of your time, to set things straight the last time he had seen you, should have run after you instead of talking himself into giving you space and respecting your boundaries.

But when it came to you, he seemed to be doing things wrong all the time. It irritates him, throws him off his game and makes him wonder if he had lost his charm after all. Maybe at some point he had become too old to be able to keep pace with someone like you.

And yet, he can’t accept defeat, doesn’t want to let you slip through his fingers. Not when there remain matters to correct. Even if your words had been final and you truly wanted Jack out of your life for good, he needed to tell you the truth and not leave you in the suffocating dark. He had been the one to tell you months ago that communication is key, that there would never be misunderstandings like this again.

But here he is now. And here you are not.

“Do you plan on clocking out anytime soon? I can’t risk the patient satisfactory scores to dive even lower and your glowering doesn’t shine a good light on us. I’m pretty sure patients are actively downplaying their symptoms just to get discharged quicker to not have to deal with you anymore.”

Robby’s voice rips Jack from his frequent musings and has him turning around to look at his friend. He is standing next to him, arms folded in front of his chest and eyebrows raised. Jack knows Robby is just as curious as to what has him in such a state lately, but he doesn’t push anymore, waiting for Jack to confess willingly after Robby’s very first attempt at finding out the issue failed a few weeks ago.

Jack knows the chief attending is concerned, just like many others are suspicious of his sudden change. While he has his off days from time to time, Jack typically finds his way back quickly, working things out or pushing them to the side far enough to ignore and deal with never. He doesn’t drag the dirt along with him for weeks on end, doesn’t let things bother him for such a long period either. Normally.

But your disappearance is anything but normal. Jack knows–blames it on his gut feeling and not his constant checking of your location tracker.

You are not well. There is no denying that, no doubt in his mind.

Since the last time he saw you, you have not once left your apartment. Not long enough for him to notice anyways. Which confirms that you have cooped yourself up for good. He would have heard you or seen it on the tracker, wouldn’t have missed it in all the hours he has the app open on his phone screen.

But despite Jack trying with all his might to get in contact with you, whether via text messages, by imitating a delivery guy by ringing your doorbell or knocking on your door, there is nothing.

In his darkest moments he wonders if you lie dead in your apartment, if your corpse is rotting away with no one other than him looking for you.

The morbid thoughts are quickly disregarded by both logic and him desperately trying to think positively.

If you were dead, your direct neighbors would report a smell. He wouldn’t hear the rare shuffling from upstairs.

Jack doesn’t want to acknowledge the fact that these two things ostensibly are the only proof of you still being around. If he allows himself to dig deeper and realize that it’s not enough prove of life for his taste, he panics. And he can’t do that. He needs to stay calm, alert, sane.

“Just waiting to do the rounds then I’m off,” Jack finally replies after a few seconds of silence in which he feels dark brown eyes examining him thoroughly. “You okay, brother? You know you can talk to me.”

It’s a nice gesture, no matter how hypocritical the sentiment is, coming from Robby. And Jack knows he can open up to him, won’t get judged or lectured unless he asks for it. But something stops him. Maybe it’s because he feels like talking about you and admitting how much he cares for you would make things too real. Or perhaps he doesn’t want help, because Jack very well knows what step to take next in order to get things back to how they were.

He just needs another opening.

“I’m fine. Nothing I can’t handle.” It’s not the whole truth, which is exactly why Jack doesn’t look into Robby’s eyes. He quickly tries to mask this abnormality by logging out of the work station and pushing past his fellow attending.

In all honesty, he isn’t sure he handles the situation all that well, can sense his nerves on fire and anticipation and dread battling each other whenever he makes another trip upstairs or so much as walks into the building. His sleep schedule is worse than ever before, he cannot relax for a single moment in his apartment and he has stopped venturing outside when not necessary, just so he doesn’t accidentally miss a movement above his head.

It does sound obsessive, maybe a bit concerning and is technically not warranted at all. You don’t have a relationship that requires him to care so much. Which makes him feel rather sheepish of his own actions. So, he doesn’t dare disclose what keeps him awake and running on fumes.

Not that it matters much. He has noticed the way security hides the betting board from his sight whenever he steps too close and the probing questions from all his colleagues don’t just drive him nuts but had him figure out quickly that his mood had become the most interesting thing in the Pitt to bet on.

He has no doubt the rumor mill is going crazy by now, especially with certain people having insider tips and spreading the news that his state stems from a problem at home. Private spectacles are always a sought-after topic of discussion and a welcome change to usual ER matters. He can’t even blame anyone for spreading his misery like a wildfire. He only wishes, he wouldn’t be at the core of the issue.

“I’m not trying to lecture you, but you need to figure things out. It’s been weeks. Everyone keeps asking me if I know what’s going on with you. People notice that you don’t stay longer or come in to help out anymore. It’s strange.”

“It’s strange that an old man decided to cut down on some hours? Really?” “I mean, we are talking about you. When have you ever picked free time over an extra shift? You’ve got everyone worried you’re thinking about retirement.”

Jack throws Robby an amused look. “I’m not gonna be the first to go. So, unless you’re planning on quitting anytime soon, I’ll be sticking around for some more time.”

Robby chuckles, the skin around his eyes crinkling despite the hint of a tortured look crossing his face. He pats Jack on the shoulder, shaking his head and following after him–both silently deciding to not investigate further into unsaid things.

Rounds take prevalence for the next few minutes, giving Jack both a reprieve from more inquiries and the whirlwind of thoughts wreaking through his brain. He had mastered the art of pushing everything else far to the back of his mind in order to let nothing else interfere with his duties and actual patient care many years ago. The past month had proven itself as one of the hardest challenges nonetheless. Even now he has to repress the uneasy feeling urging him to wrap up faster to get back home to check for any changes or news.

It’s maddening–the way time flies by and drags on at the same time. His world distorts around him, transporting him from the door of a trauma room, to the lockers, into his car and back home.

By the time the elevator doors open on your floor, he doesn’t know if hours have passed or mere minutes.

The only thing he knows for sure is that his heart is beating uncharacteristically fast and his hands are shaking with every step he takes closer to your door.

Jack’s eyes find the paper bag of food which he had ordered to your door yesterday. It’s become an unwelcome and yet frequent sight–delivered bags full of meals standing there, untouched. When it first started to dawn on Jack that you were holed up in your apartment and weren’t planning on coming out for even the most necessary things like grocery shopping, he had simply decided to take matters into his own hands and order you food regularly.

He had thought he was clever, that he would get see that you were still alive whenever he would find a bag taken inside or at least empty. But his hopes had been crushed into small pieces until there was nothing but dust left with every untouched delivery left standing.

The first few times Jack had discarded the old food, simply guessing you must have not liked what he had ordered. But no matter what he had someone else bring or put there himself in the last weeks, you never made a single attempt at accepting the gifts.

Jack could only continue on, praying that you either had a fully stocked pantry that could keep you afloat for a month or that you ordered in yourself and vehemently ignored his offerings.

He tells himself that he can live with that, that it doesn’t feel like another rejection with every bag he disposes of.

His knock harmonizes with the beat of his pulse and as always, he holds his breath in order to hear your approach. It has become wishful thinking at this point, but Jack doesn’t want to give up on you.

For a few seconds there is nothing, then the door opens.

The one next to yours.

Miss Gertrude steps into the hallway, her hawk eyes focusing in on Jack and narrowing slightly before a rather performative smile crosses her face. “Oh, Doctor Abbot! What a pleasure to see you here.”

She comes closer until she manages to squeeze into his personal space and sidle up against him, her warm hand falling onto his arm. Jack fights the urge to pull away and swallows his discomfort. He gets touched without consent by many older ladies in the ER, this is nothing new to him.

He nods in greeting, saying an acknowledging, “Miss Gertrude.” Jack is in no mood to entertain her today. He counts himself rather lucky to have avoided her for the past month even when coming up here more often than deemed appropriate. He can only guess that she is severely aware of his comings and goings, probably spying on him through the peep hole whenever the floor squeaks beneath his weight.

Still, he remains calm and cordial. “What brings you up here at this wonderful morning?” There is a clear accusation in the question, one Jack discreetly ignores. There is no way he will let himself be talked into feeling bad about caring about your wellbeing. This is important to him; he needs to know you are doing okay. Your next-door neighbor might just give him the answers he craves so badly.

The truth spills out with the sudden realization. “Have you heard anything from your neighbor? She’s been… gone for a few weeks. I’ve tried to contact her, but I’m not getting through.”

Miss Gertrude watches him with a calculating look, remaining silent for a moment. Then she waves her hand dismissively and clicks her tongue. “Oh, never mind the young lady. She is just sulking. Or rather thinking over her behavior. Really, she needed a scolding for once. Young folk these days are just so… temperamental. The last time I’ve seen her, she screamed at me and called me an instigator! Can you believe that? I’ve never been called a troublemaker in my entire life, but nowadays people curse you out the second you tell them something they don’t want to hear. She must be feeling ashamed for how she handled herself back then. I wouldn’t show my face anymore if I was her either.”

Jack frowns at that, not entirely sure what the eccentric woman is talking about. But despite her reasonings, he is more than certain that he is playing a much bigger role in your disappearance than Miss Gertrude does.

“So, you haven’t seen her then?” Disappointment makes another entrance and Jack swallows hard. “Not for a few weeks, no. But, Doctor, I’ve noticed you have been lurking around here quite often lately,” she huffs disapprovingly, “I really don’t condone this. Whatever has this girl done to you? I don’t think you should be loitering around her door so much, not that I don’t appreciate seeing you. It’s just… you know?”

Her eyes are widened in expectation, as if he can read her thoughts, and her fingers dig deeper into the fabric of his jacket. “I don’t know, actually.” “Oh, Doctor, please don’t play with me!” Miss Gertrude let’s out a hearty laugh, as if he had just told the joke of the century. “I know she must be quite the temptress to get you to fawn so much over her but, isn’t she just a bit too young for you? No, really. I mean, me and my Earl had a few years separating us and we were a fabulous match, but this neighbor of ours doesn’t have all that much to offer, does she now? If I’m honest, I had a little birdie whisper in my ear that she is rather fond of assets. As in… she likes to get with people that have the finances to provide her with a better life, if you know what I mean. You shouldn’t fall for such a scheme.”

Jack is torn between raising his eyebrows to high heavens in surprise at this unsolicited attack on you or to draw them so close that they will touch in the middle, because he is utterly confused at the absurd things Miss Gertrude spews right now. It results in him switching between both expressions and shaking his head as if he needs to dispel the accusations, so the lies don’t reach his ears. He wiggles his arm a bit to get her grip off him at last and takes a step away.

“What are you talking about?” “Come on now, you aren’t a daft one, Doctor Abbot. She obviously is a gold digger. Not to mention a homewrecker as well. You wouldn’t believe it! When I mentioned your wife to her, she didn’t care at all. I mean, look how she still clings to you. And no need to lie about her attachment, I know all about the way she comes and goes from your place and that she is always hanging around you. Not that I blame you in the slightest! Good God, no! I am aware you are only giving in to her because you see her as a young, impressionable thing and you are trying to guide her in the right direction. You have a heart of gold; I can see that. But you can say no; you should say no! Trust me, I’ve told her off already and look at her now! Hiding away, when the truth is said out loud. Really, the young folks of today, you can’t make this up. They have no manners anymore and have the audacity to be offended at every little redirection.”

Jack stares at the short woman for a handful of seconds, waiting for her to tell him she is just messing with him. When it doesn’t come, the realization sets in that she is completely serious. He doesn’t even know where to begin to untangle the mess that was just thrown at him.

“Okay, so… you need to stop. Both with making assumptions and listening to little birdies that clearly know nothing of the truth.” Everything he’s just heard has anger rising inside him, fists balled tight and jaw clenched hard. Miss Gertrude’s eyes bulge immediately at his words, her mouth opening to butt in again to defend herself. “But-“  Jack doesn’t let her finish another vexing remark.

“No! That’s enough. This is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard. Your sources must really suck, just like your observation skills, otherwise you’d know that everything you’ve just said is a lie. She isn’t a gold digger or a home wrecker, and she isn’t clinging to me! Believe me, I’d know because if she was, I’d be much happier than I’ve been the past month. I am the one finding her, seeking her out and offering myself up to be whatever she needs in the moment. She hasn’t asked for it and apparently doesn’t even want me to be around her anymore. Not to mention, that she has not once made an attempt to ask me for money. Even if she would, I’d gladly provide for her and feel honored that she sought me out.”

Jack doesn’t care how far his voice travels, no matter how harshly the other inhabitants of this floor might be woken up due to his outburst. Clearly, Miss Gertrude needs to get her reality checked and with her condescending words against you, Jack is more than happy to provide that service to her.

He sends her a withering glare, leaning closer just to look more menacing when towering above her form. There is a flicker of satisfaction coursing through his body when he recognizes a sliver of panic in her face.

“I don’t know how anything of this is your business anyway? You do not get to dictate who I meet or who I spent time with. I’m not your charge so I’d appreciate it if you could stop putting me on a pedestal like I’m some kind of saint and talk bad about people I associate with that don’t agree with you. Not sure what has ever given you the impression that you have a right to judge people you barely know, just because you have nothing better to do with your time. I’d recommend you to stop and find another hobby.”

By now it’s surprising that Miss Gertrude’s bright pink tunic hasn’t caught on fire or at least started smoking with the heated gaze Jack has fixed on her. He watches the way his words sink in deeper with every passing second, how the woman’s face falls and turns almost gray with mortification and shock.

For once Jack can’t bring himself to care nor feel pity for someone like her. She is reaping what she sowed now, and his usual willingness to be civil with his neighbors just doesn’t apply under these circumstances. If Miss Gertrude keeps on getting a pass from other people despite her spouting all kinds of nonsense about them, she will never learn. Hell, she might not even stop after Jack blows up on her. He can only hope she will at the very least stop talking bad about you from now on.

He can’t bear the thought of him causing yet another misfortune for you, purely because the ladies of the house think they have a claim on him and you are deemed a threat.

Jack exhales slowly, trying to calm himself by averting his gaze for a moment. When he feels like he won’t burst apart right on the spot anymore, he turns back, eyes not carrying any less lethal intent.

“One last thing as a well-meant tip for the future… Do not ever speak of my wife again!”

His voice is barely more than a low order yet they hit his neighbor like a slash of a sword if her noticeable flinch is any indication.

“Understood?” She nods like her life depends on it and that’s enough for him.

Jack pushes past her with an even worse mood than before, deciding that he can’t stand to stay there any longer. He will gladly be free of his aggravating neighbor and the chance of you opening the door is slim to none anyways.

Nothing is holding him here anymore.

It’s why he hears the squeaking of your door clear as day.

He instantly stills in his movement, gaze snapping to his ceiling, as if he can activate an x-ray vision and see you a few feet above him.

The squeak happens again, the door falling in the lock and while holding his breath he can make out the slightest footsteps.

Like a hound smelling blood he tries to follow them, the first actual sign of you still being there, nothing nondescript but actual familiar sounds.

Jack is so entranced and concentrated on this miracle, that he almost jumps out of his skin when his phone pings.

He waits another moment, listening for more, but nothing comes. He tries to not feel devastated. This is a win, he should be celebrating, maybe even go upstairs and see if you would be willing to see him again. But he doesn’t want to push his luck.

This is the most fragile piece of hope you have given him, there is just no way he will shatter it right away, just because he is over eager and can’t wait a little longer.

Dejected by his own decision, he accepts defeat and finally moves to grab his cell phone, expecting a random message from literally anyone but you. Which is exactly why your name staring back at him has him second guessing his vision for a second.

When nothing changes after another moment, he is quick to open the message and the warm and fuzzy feeling of relief floods his body like a lifesaving remedy.

Thanks for the food.

next part >

Taglist: @defneedtherapy @starlitflora @whenelifallsinlove @maremanomeile @pear-1206 @ihavemanyhusbandfandoms @adventure-awaits13 @aggressivelysarcasticsstuff-blog @namgification @evareader99 @yiiiikesmish @supersecretbabe246 @cats-coffeeandbooks @umaruprentiss @its-forevermore @seeminglyincurablesadness @jensonsonlybutton @poison-lotus12 @k-6196 @blueflame2778 @sns100-blog @ratlife4eva @coffeeblackandcomfortablynumb @severesunstranger @althea-tavalas @44na44 @blurryboundaries @hadewijch-of-brabant @romanticpursuit @azarisworld @moonskates @sinoxima @sophia-andr-07 @uhmmjayla @killingmesoftlybaby @prqngs @orangeoodlesofart @happyendingarentreal @desikutti @crowley--aziraphale @unlikelyprofessorhumanbear-blog @plasticbottleholder @ilovemilfsblog @angelbunny222 @xo-yells-xo @onepackfrombroke @sammiib444 @amnatreal @dangbabe-blog1 @iridescentanachronism

[salty-tang]

✉︎♡‧₊˚ dear my darling reader - event masterpost

banner credit: @superbassbuck / divider credit: @earthsmightiestbenders

hello everyone & welcome to the dear my darling reader: valentine’s fic exchange 2026 masterpost !

this started as a small idea to make valentine’s day a little sweeter, and what came out of it is this collection of stories written with care, enthusiasm, and a lot of shared love for bucky barnes ♡⸝⸝

every fic below was written as a gift for someone specific. there's been a lot of excitement, nerves, and frantic typing involved... so, a BIG thank you to everyone who joined in, and to everyone reading now!! im honoured by your presence!!

warnings: as this is an event masterpost, themes, ratings, and content will vary from story to story. please check each author’s warnings and tags before reading ! caveat emptor !

without further ado; read lots, reblog lots, and have fun, my darling readers ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂)⸝♡

ps click here to see the most updated version of the masterpost!

˚₊ · »-♡→ i wouldn't ask you @earthsmightiestbenders

⤷ avenger!reader x avenger!bucky three nights. two broken souls. one misunderstanding that might change your life forever.

˚₊ · »-♡→ cupid's favorite hr violation @heldbybarnes

⤷ stucky x reader steve and bucky swear valentine’s day is a corporate scam, but the matching heart-print ties, anonymous dirty-cute notes, and a conveniently camera-free “team sync” say otherwise—especially when they finally show you just how in love with you they really are on the conference room table.

˚₊ · »-♡→ not here @im-feeling-blue-today

⤷ 40's!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader After a long day at work, you're looking forward to your date. It's the 40s, yet not all men care about chivalry -- or even about showing up to dates. Lucky for you, a handsome man saves your date.

˚₊ · »-♡→ my girl, my home @buckybsdoll

⤷ tfatws!bucky barnes x reader Bucky's the perfect boyfriend — sweet and attentive and does anything to make you happy — so who cares that he forgets this one valentine's day? Especially when he spends the morning making it up to you, nestled between your legs.

˚₊ · »-♡→ table for two @54nboo

⤷ tfatws!bucky x fem!military!reader with a schedule as busy as yours and a boss as grueling as sam wilson, dating becomes an afterthought; so when the day comes where you actually manage to score a date, you let yourself hope— only for it all to fall apart. the last thing you expect is for your boss’ friend to slip into the seat in front of you and order a whiskey, but it’s certainly not the worst thing to happen to you that night.

˚₊ · »-♡→ LOVE ON THE CLOCK! @bedriddenbarnes

⤷college au when the clock strikes fourteen, and bucky comes home to a plethora of couples and gifts, after completely losing track of the date due to midterms, your boyfriend figures out the day of, that it's the day of displaying his love for you. desperate to make up for it, he pulls off a frantic last-minute gift scramble. the only problem now, is whether you remembered.

˚₊ · »-♡→ all my affection (is all i have to lose) @clarknsun

⤷college!bucky x f!reader Bucky’s not an affectionate kinda guy. When he meets a girl who wears her heart out on her sleeve, whose love language is quite literally telling everyone 'I love you', he's confronted with the fact that maybe life isn't so bad with affection after all. or... Five times you tell Bucky 'I love you' + the first time he says it back

˚₊ · »-♡→ Sweet Tides @indigo-jungle

⤷ Bucky Barnes x Reader You strike up an unlikely friendship with a strange man who ruined your farmer's market stand. As you spend more time together, you find yourself drawn to him.

˚₊ · »-♡→ Stand up guy @pinksplace

⤷ Bucky Barnes x Reader With your date no where in sight you’re preparing yourself for another night alone, ready to file the whole thing under your growing evidence regarding the death of romance enter Bucky Barnes, friend, obscenely hot neighbor, and *checks notes* savior?

˚₊ · »-♡→ be my valentine? @buckybsdoll

⤷ tfatws!bucky barnes x fem!reader Bucky's been your valentine for 3 years in a row — a silly tradition, two best friends making fun of a holiday you claim to hate. This year, he's got a date...and you're left alone on his doorstep — a basket full of food and all the love you didn't know you held for him.

˚₊ · »-♡→ everything she wants @spdrveil

⤷ bucky barnes x shield agent!reader normalcy isn't something you've ever thought possible in the life of a shield agent, but for the first time in his life, bucky can see right through you and your desire for a future without blood and guns.

˚₊ · »-♡→ you belong with me @elliestwoleftfingerss

⤷ bucky barnes x neighbour!reader bucky is afraid to tell you about his true feelings, scared to ruin what you have going on between you. a mishap makes him realise what he could be for you.

˚₊ · »-♡→ On the Subject of Marriage @salty-tang

⤷ wedding-hater groomsman!bucky x planning-the-wedding bridesmaid!reader It was supposed to be simple: plan the wedding, survive the vendors, don’t strangle Bucky Barnes. But perfection cracks when an unexpected disaster hits, and in the quiet aftermath you discover the last thing you'd expect - that falling in love isn't exactly what friends do.

˚₊ · »-♡→ Last Minute Gift @carvedmyheart

⤷ Bucky x Cage!Reader After the longest day of working, you sneak to the kitchen to whip up a quick gift for your Valentine, the Bucky Barnes.

˚₊ · »-♡→ Not just your neighbor @its-in-the-woods

⤷ Bucky tfatw x you (male) You were his neighbor and friend. Then somewhere along the way, one Valentine's day, it became more.

˚₊ · »-♡→ The Shape of Home @navybrat817

⤷ TFATWS!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Bucky's attempt at cooking your favorite meal in his apartment leads to an important and heartfelt conversation.

˚₊ · »-♡→ obsessed and in love @heldbybarnes

⤷ beefy!bucky barnes x reader a year on the run turns you and bucky into undefined, can’t-keep-your-hands-off-each-other lovers—until a new recruit flirts with you back at the tower, and bucky proves exactly who you belong to by fucking you loud enough for everyone to hear… then admits he’s obsessed and in love with you.

˚₊ · »-♡→ Back Soonest, My Love @quantumbarnes

⤷ soldier!Bucky Barnes x commoner!reader A lover with a sword in his hand and his heart in his eyes. A lover who promises and always fulfills. When James Barnes gets back from war, he shows you his love written in the sky.

˚₊ · »-♡→ Our Coffee Shop @buckysdecaflove

⤷ Congressman Barnes x F!Reader After a couple of encounters in your usual coffee shop with Congressman Barnes you realize both of you are getting fond of each other.

˚₊ · »-♡→ A Bouquet of Flowers @badbitchsincebirth05

⤷ New Avengers!Bucky Barnes x Wife!Reader Bucky Barnes has never missed a holiday. After Hydra, he wanted to celebrate every single one, especially once you came into his life. However, this year for Valentine’s Day, a mission pulled him away. Or did it?

˚₊ · »-♡→ The Start of Forever @dei-dreamz

⤷ Bucky x Cage!Reader You and Bucky tie the knot, let the honeymoon chaos begin.

˚₊ · »-♡→ Darling Mine @tw1sters

⤷ 40s!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader Your deep-rooted feelings for Bucky Barnes — beautiful and untouchable — were never meant to surface. However, when he kindly invites you to spend Valentine's Day with him, you also don't expect yourself to hope for more.

˚₊ · »-♡→ A misunderstanding @buckysdecaflove

⤷ Grumpy!Bucky Barnes x Sunshine!F!Reader From the first time Bucky sees you he realize you're something different, but maybe eavesdropping is not his best ally at the moment. Now he has to remind himself not everyone is an enemy.

˚₊ · »-♡→ a rose a day @juniebjonesin

⤷ thunderbolts!bucky x female reader as the thunderbolts’ overworked assistant, invisibility comes with the job—late nights, impossible schedules, no recognition. so the single red rose waiting on your desk feels like a mistake. until another appears. then another. each morning brings a quiet gift, easing the exhaustion you’ve learned to carry. by valentine’s day, your desk holds a full bouquet—and far too many unanswered questions.

˚₊ · »-♡→ Don’t Wait For the Sky to Clear @singulartoast

⤷ Farmer!Bucky x Popstar!reader A storm blew you off course and into his bed leaving an invisible string tying you to rugged farmer Bucky Barnes. Can he rodeo the red carpet while you write melodies in meadows?

loading...more fics incoming...!

[iamlins]

BATFAM × veronica!READER × HEATHERS:musical

veronica!READER × JD

Warning: death, mention of bullying, mention of suicide attempt, mention of attempted rape, neglect, illegal entry into the house, mention of sex (very vague), suicide, bombs, poisoning, staged suicide, murder, etc

Words: 1413 Letters: 7832

(English is not my native language. I translate all my texts through a translator. Please don't criticize me too much. If you find errors in my text, don't be afraid to point it out to me.)

VERONICA!reader...

Who was adopted by Bruce after her parents were killed in front of her

In which Bruce saw himself and decided to give the little girl a new home, family and support.

Who quickly opens up to a new family due to her innocence and childlike trust

Which Bruce wants to isolate from the cruel world

Which he doesn't teach to be a vigilante, protecting

Who becomes Daddy's girl

Who enchants everyone around her

Who plays with Dick, despite the fact that he is older than her.

Which Richard and Bruce carry on their shoulders

Which Alfred feeds with cookies or cakes

Which is called bird-like and cute

With whom her Dick plays knights and princesses, each time saving her from a terrible dragon

Who believes in people, love and a second chance

Who doesn't know how to stay angry for long

Who is incredibly excited to go to a new school and make new friends

Which one is loved by both teachers and children

Who is an excellent student

Who can easily copy other people's handwriting

Who quickly becomes attached to Jason

Thanks to which he quickly gets used to a new life.

Who plays superheroes with JJ

Who supports his love of books and discusses them with him

Which changes a lot with his loss

Who is closing down, but is trying to support her family, knowing that it's hard for them too

Which Bruce is kicked out of his office after she comes to him with a cup of tea and cookies

Who is not mad at him for this, because it is very hard for him.

Who loses the love of her family quietly but quickly

Which fades into the background with the advent of new brothers and sisters

Who is trying to make friends with a new family, but remains rejected, for lack of a secret nightlife that unites everyone around

Who gets lost among the many other children

Which Bruce reassures by saying that he is busy with others and soon they will be together again as father and daughter.

Who is not invited to a family movie screening

Who loses all her friends, except for Martha, with whom they watch "The Princess Bride" together and rejoice at the happy ending

Who stops taking care of herself

Who's not Daddy's little girl anymore

Who dreams of an ideal world where everyone loves each other

Who finds herself in a real, violent world where there are popular beauties, bully jocks, and nerdy nerds.

Which belongs to the third caste

Who happens to be among Heather's most popular and mean bitches

Who gets into a sweet story where she becomes loved and cherished by everyone around her, where everyone wants her.

Who is starting to lose her only true friend

Changes that are not immediately noticed. When someone notes at one of the dinners that she has become quite popular at school and everyone is talking about her. Bruce is glad that his daughter is returning to her former sociable nature after a long time.

Who asks for permission to bring her new "friends" to their garden to play croquet.

Who is glad to be needed by Heathers , because next to them she feels loved by everyone again .

Who starts wearing more blue colors

Who still dreams of love

Who meets the coolest guy in her life in the cafeteria of her school

Who falls in love with him after he fights for her honor

Who throws Martha an invitation to a party, setting her up

Who is incredibly happy when she is invited to a party in an elite country cottage

Who, on her way to the party, meets JD, the guy of her dreams from the cafeteria,

Which is imbued with his sad story about the loss of his mother, misunderstanding and neglect of his father

Who understands him and sympathizes with him, telling him her story.

Who is happy to flirt with a cool guy she likes

Who feels like a part of society at a party, is no longer alone

Who sees all the vices of teenagers at a party and is horrified and disheartened

Who's fighting with Heather Chandler, throwing up on her

Who understands that her popularity and happy life are over.

Who thinks about running away

Who decides to spend her last hours enjoying life

Who decides to get in to JD, through the window

Who spends the best night of her life with her new boyfriend

Who decides to play a prank on Chandler with Jason

Who accidentally kills her

Who writes a farewell letter on behalf of Chandler along with JD, in which the deceased tells that it is also hard for the popular and beautiful, and they also have their own problems.

Who begins to see and hear the ghost of the dead Heather

Who sees that after death, everyone loved Chandler even more.

Who is pitied in the mansion, but no one tries to ask or listen to

Whom McNamara invites on a double date with Kurt and Ram and she reluctantly agrees

Who was almost raped on this date

To which JD makes his way through the window

Who can only trust him and tell him about all her feelings

Who tells him about the dreams, the happy life of an ordinary teenager

Who still believes that love can win

Who agrees to her boyfriend's proposal to take revenge on two athletes

I ask her who she was talking to in the room, to which she replies that she was on the phone. The others are worried, but they don't pay much attention to it.

Who calls Kurt and offers him a threesome to make up for her "guilt"

Who, along with Jason, goes to the woods where she meets two guys

Which helps to kill both bullies and imagine that they committed double suicide, unable to reveal their feelings for each other to the world.

Who begins to see and hear the two boys who have just been killed.

Which is gnawed by guilt

Who might be trying to tell her family something, but they won't let her.

Who notices that something is wrong with her family

Who finds out that they live a night life saving people

Who understands that they understand that all suicides were not like that

Who abruptly withdraws from everything, fearing that she will be discovered and hated.

Who saves Heather McNamara from a suicide attempt

Who understands that all deaths were undeserved and unnecessary

Who hears about Martha's suicide attempt and insanely regrets it.

Who comes to the hospital to Martha and asks her for forgiveness

Who decides to tell everyone the truth and tells JD about it

Who notices strange looks when she gets home

Who finds out that her boyfriend came to the mansion and told her about her alleged problems and dreams of suicide

Which denies everything

Who is put under house arrest and they begin to monitor her very much

Who waits for the moment when everyone leaves and wants to escape

Who hears the voice of her "kind" boyfriend breaking into her, confessing his love for her and his decision to blow up the entire school and all the students who, in his opinion, were going to separate her from him

Who doesn't think of anything better than pretending to be hanged

Who hears all of JD's pleas not to leave him alone, but escapes through the window when she hears Alfred's voice from the hallway

Who takes the veil off her neck in front of her family and runs off to school, ignoring the protests in order to stop Jason

Who everyone at school considers a dead

Who finds Jason in a room under the gym, where bombs have already been planted.

Who persuades her boyfriend not to do this, that they can still fix everything and be happy together like ordinary teenagers, despite the problems with their families

Who hears his refusal

Who gets out of school with him

Who admits that she still loves him

Who decides that death with a loved one is the best outcome she has.

Who dies with love in her heart

Whose diaries did her family find after her death

Whose problems, experiences, and feelings will be discovered only after suicide

Whose family will regret their actions and subsequent neglect for a long time

Whose father will blame himself for letting down another of his children

[I love Heathers and I also love crossovers and that's what came out of it. What is your favorite musical? Favorite song from Heathers. When writing, I took images from the movie and from the musical. What do you like more?]

[dilaurentispuckbunny]

Quietly Yours {Dean Di Laurentis x mute!reader} Part 17

Masterlist

Summary: Everyone at Briar knows Dean Di Laurentis. Nobody knows you. Not because you aren't friendly, but because people tend to make assumptions the moment they realize you don't speak. Some think you're shy. Others think you're rude. A few even assume you're deaf. You're used to correcting people with a tired smile and a note on your phone. Dean is no different...at first. Until he realizes your silence never stopped you from laughing, teasing, arguing, or caring. He starts discovering that you've always had a voice. It just isn't spoken.

Warnings: mentions of being mute, misunderstandings

The morning after the game, Dean sent you a video at seven-sixteen.

You were still in bed when your phone vibrated against the mattress.

His name appeared across the screen, followed by a thumbnail of him standing in the hockey house kitchen with his hair sticking up in several different directions.

You opened it.

Dean lifted his hands.

Good morning.

That part was perfect now.

Then came a pause while his eyebrows drew together in concentration.

You. Proud. Me.

You frowned.

Dean apparently realised the sentence made no sense because he stopped signing and looked off-camera.

“Tucker, what did I just say?”

A voice answered from somewhere behind the phone.

“You told her that she’s proud of you.”

Dean looked horrified.

“That’s not what I’m trying to say.”

“You reversed it.”

“Why didn’t you tell me before I started filming?”

“Because this is funnier.”

Dean sighed and turned back towards the camera.

“Okay. Attempt two.”

His hands moved again.

Slower this time.

I am proud of you.

Then, after thinking for a second, he added:

Very.

His hand dropped.

“That better?”

Tucker’s voice came from behind the camera.

“Understandable.”

Dean glared towards him.

“Good enough.”

He looked back at you.

The irritation disappeared almost immediately.

“I know you said you were okay last night, and I'm believing you.”

A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

“See? Growth.”

You smiled.

“But I still wanted to say that.”

He lifted his hands again.

Proud.

Then the video ended.

You watched it twice.

The second time mostly because Dean's hair was ridiculous.

You saved it anyway.

Briar was strangely quiet on Saturday mornings.

Most students were either sleeping off Friday night or unwilling to venture outside before noon. The paths between the residence halls were almost empty when you crossed campus a couple of hours later, coat pulled tightly around yourself against the cold.

Dean had asked you to meet him at the hockey house.

He hadn't told you why.

That alone made you suspicious.

The front door opened before you had the chance to knock.

Dean stood there in sweatpants and an old Briar T-shirt.

“You came.”

You stared at him.

He immediately winced.

“We've established that I keep saying obvious things when I'm happy.”

You signed:

Dramatic.

“I knew that one before you finished it.”

You stepped inside.

The house was unusually peaceful. No television blaring from the living room. No Logan shouting from upstairs. No Garrett arguing with someone over a missing protein shake.

You glanced around.

“They're gone.”

You lifted an eyebrow.

“Garrett's with Hannah. Tucker had an early shift. Logan…”

Dean looked towards the ceiling.

“I genuinely have no idea.”

You started towards the kitchen.

Dean caught up.

“Coffee?”

You nodded.

“Caramel.”

Another nod.

“I know.”

You smiled.

He opened one of the cupboards, then pointed towards the kitchen table.

“Sit.”

Your eyebrow rose higher.

“Please sit.”

Better.

You complied.

Dean poured coffee into two mugs instead of using the paper cups he usually brought you. He added caramel to yours without asking and somehow managed to make it exactly the way you liked.

When he placed it in front of you, you looked at him approvingly.

“Yes.”

He pumped one fist.

“I've achieved boyfriend-level coffee knowledge.”

Your fingers tightened slightly around the mug.

Dean froze.

You looked at him.

He looked at you.

Then his eyes widened.

“I didn't mean—”

You started smiling.

“Okay, you're smiling. That's good.”

You reached for your phone.

Boyfriend?

Dean's face went red.

Actually red.

You had never seen that before.

“I was making a joke.”

Were you?

“Yes.”

You stared.

Dean rubbed both palms down his thighs.

“Mostly.”

Your smile widened.

He pointed at you.

“Don't enjoy this.”

You absolutely did.

Dean sat opposite you and picked up his own coffee.

“Forget I said it.”

You shook your head.

“Please.”

Another shake.

“Y/N.”

You laughed silently.

“This is bullying.”

He changed the subject so quickly it was almost impressive.

“So, I wanted to ask you something.”

Your smile softened.

Dean had learned enough over the past several weeks that you could hold short conversations without constantly reaching for your phone. His vocabulary was still limited and his grammar occasionally spectacularly bad, but he could understand more than he spoke.

You waited.

He didn't sign immediately.

Instead, he looked down at his coffee.

“Yesterday, after the game…”

You tilted your head.

“You said something.”

You waited.

He looked back at you.

“When you said you were louder.”

Understanding dawned.

Your fingers curled around the warm mug.

Dean continued before you could become uncomfortable.

“You don't have to explain what you meant.”

You relaxed slightly.

“I think I understood.”

You nodded.

He hesitated.

“And it made me think about something you told me.”

Your stomach tightened again.

Dean noticed.

He raised one hand.

“Nothing bad.”

You waited.

“You said you were singing.”

The kitchen changed.

Only slightly.

The clock above the oven kept ticking.

The refrigerator continued humming.

Dean remained across from you.

But your fingers became cold around the mug.

He saw it immediately.

“We don't have to talk about this.”

You looked down.

The memory was always clearest at that point.

Not the cupboard.

Not your father's hand around your arm.

The song.

You remembered sitting cross-legged on the floor of your bedroom, arranging dolls in front of you as though they were an audience. You had been singing along to something playing softly through your little radio.

You couldn't remember every lyric anymore.

You could remember the feeling.

Being happy.

Being loud because you were happy.

Then your father had appeared in the doorway.

You pushed the memory away.

Dean had gone very still across from you.

He was waiting.

You reached for your phone.

What were you going to ask?

His eyes moved across the screen.

“Do you still like music?”

The question wasn't what you expected.

You stared at him.

Dean shrugged slightly.

“You wear headphones all the time.”

You nodded.

“What do you listen to?”

You blinked.

Nobody had ever asked that after learning why you stopped speaking.

They usually asked whether singing upset you.

Whether certain songs triggered you.

Whether you'd tried vocal therapy.

Dean wanted to know what was on your playlist.

You reached for your phone and opened your music app.

Then handed it to him.

Dean scrolled.

His eyebrows lifted.

“Oh, wow.”

You narrowed your eyes.

“No judgement.”

You continued staring.

“Some judgement.”

You tried to take the phone back.

Dean held it out of reach.

“No, I'm interested now.”

You stretched across the table.

He laughed and leaned backwards.

“You've got everything on here.”

You managed to snatch the phone from his hand.

Dean looked wounded.

“I was learning about you.”

You typed:

You were judging me.

“I was judging one specific playlist.”

Your eyes narrowed.

He grinned.

“What? It's very dramatic.”

You signed the insult before he finished.

You. Dramatic.

“I walked into that.”

After coffee, Dean put music on.

Quietly.

So quietly, at first, that you barely heard it from the speaker sitting near the window.

You looked towards it.

Dean immediately reached for the volume.

“Too much?”

You shook your head.

He stopped.

You pointed towards the speaker and lifted your hand.

More.

“You want it louder?”

You nodded.

Dean increased the volume slightly.

You gestured again.

His eyebrows rose.

“More?”

Another nod.

He turned it up.

Not arena loud.

Not party loud.

But enough that the bass began vibrating faintly through the kitchen table beneath your palms.

You smiled.

Dean watched you.

You closed your eyes.

Music had never frightened you.

That was another assumption people made when they knew.

The song had not hurt you.

Your father had.

There was a difference.

One you had spent years trying to hold onto.

You tapped your fingers against the table with the rhythm.

When you opened your eyes again, Dean was smiling.

What?

He pointed towards your fingers.

“You like this one.”

You nodded.

“I knew it.”

You raised an eyebrow.

“It's on your playlist fourteen times.”

You grabbed your phone.

It's different versions.

“Fourteen.”

Live versions count separately.

“Fourteen.”

You threw a napkin at him.

Dean laughed.

Eventually, the music changed.

You knew the first three notes before the singer began.

Your body went still.

Dean was looking down at something on his phone.

He didn't notice.

Not immediately.

You did.

The song.

Not the exact recording.

But the same song.

The one from your bedroom.

The one you had been singing when you were seven years old.

Your heartbeat stumbled.

The kitchen faded at the edges.

Not like the coffee shop.

Not completely.

You could still feel the chair beneath you.

Could still hear the music clearly.

But beneath the adult voice coming from the speaker, there was another.

Small.

Young.

Yours.

You remembered the words.

Your lips parted.

Nothing came out.

They hadn't for years.

Dean finally looked up.

His smile vanished.

He reached towards his phone to stop the music.

You shook your head sharply.

His hand froze.

“You sure?”

You nodded.

Once.

Dean lowered his hand.

The song continued.

Your chest hurt.

You closed your eyes.

Seven years old.

Sitting on the carpet.

Your favourite doll in your lap.

Singing too loudly.

Not because you wanted to disobey him.

Because seven-year-olds were supposed to be loud sometimes.

Your throat tightened.

You felt something rising there.

Instinctively, you pressed your fingers against your neck.

Dean stood.

He didn't come closer.

“What do you need?”

You shook your head.

You didn't know.

The chorus arrived.

You remembered it.

Every word.

Your mouth formed the first one.

No sound.

The second.

Nothing.

Tears burned your eyes.

Dean's expression broke.

He started towards you.

You held up one hand.

Stop.

He did.

Your lips moved again.

Nothing came.

Frustration burst through you with such force that you hit the table with your palm.

Dean flinched.

You tried again.

Your throat strained painfully.

Still nothing.

You shoved the chair backwards and stood.

“Y/N.”

You shook your head violently.

He lifted his hands.

Stop.

You stared at him.

Don't hurt yourself. He signed.

Anger flashed through you.

You signed back too quickly for him to understand.

Dean's brows drew together.

“Slow down.”

You couldn't.

Your hands moved again.

I want to. I want to. I want to.

He caught pieces.

“Want?”

You pointed towards your throat.

Then the speaker.

Then yourself.

Understanding hit him.

“You want to sing.”

Your face crumpled.

You nodded.

Dean looked devastated.

Not because you couldn't.

Because he could see how desperately you wanted to.

You pressed both hands against your face.

The song continued behind you.

Then Dean did something unexpected.

He sang.

Badly.

So badly that your hands slowly lowered.

His voice was too deep for the song. He didn't know half the lyrics, and the words he did know were several seconds behind the recording.

You stared at him.

Dean kept going.

Completely shamelessly.

His singing was horrific.

You laughed.

Silently at first.

Then harder.

Your shoulders shook as Dean deliberately made it worse, throwing himself into the chorus with such unnecessary enthusiasm that a neighbour probably considered calling the police.

He pointed towards you.

“Don't judge me.”

You laughed harder.

The pressure in your throat eased.

The memory loosened.

Dean kept singing until the song ended.

When the next one began, he stopped.

The kitchen became quiet again.

You wiped beneath your eyes.

Dean stayed on the opposite side of the table.

“Better?”

You nodded.

He smiled cautiously.

“You know, I think I have a future in music.”

You shook your head immediately.

“That quick?”

Another shake.

“Brutal.”

Your smile faded slowly.

You looked down at your hands.

Dean waited.

You typed:

I haven't tried that in years.

He came closer, stopping beside the table.

“Trying to sing?”

You nodded.

I used to.

“When?”

When I was younger. Therapists wanted me to.

Dean's expression tightened.

They thought if I practised enough, eventually something would come out.

“Did it?”

You shook your head.

It made me hate trying.

Dean nodded.

“Then don't.”

You looked at him.

“Unless you want to.”

Your throat tightened again.

Not painfully this time.

Dean looked towards the speaker.

“You wanted to today.”

You nodded.

“So today you tried.”

He shrugged.

“Tomorrow you might not.”

You stared at him.

“And that's okay.”

You typed:

What if I never can?

Dean read it.

Then looked directly into your eyes.

“Then I'll sing badly enough for both of us.”

A wet laugh escaped through your nose.

Dean smiled.

“You think I'm joking.”

You nodded.

“I'm offended.”

You set the phone down.

Then lifted your hands.

Thank you.

Dean responded in sign.

Always.

You hesitated.

Then pointed towards the speaker.

Dean looked at it.

“You want music back on?”

You nodded.

“Same song?”

You considered it.

Your stomach tightened.

Then slowly, you nodded again.

Dean didn't question you.

He restarted it.

The opening notes filled the kitchen once more.

You stayed standing.

Dean beside you.

Your hands rested against the edge of the table.

This time, when the first verse began, you didn't try to force sound through your throat.

You simply mouthed the lyrics.

Dean joined you.

Quietly now.

No ridiculous performance.

He sang while you shaped the words beside him.

Two versions of the same song.

One spoken.

One silent.

Neither more real than the other.

Halfway through the chorus, Dean's hand found yours.

You held on.

The memory was still there.

Your father was still there, somewhere far behind your eyes.

But so was Dean.

So was this kitchen.

This morning.

This choice.

When the song finished, you didn't cry.

You took a breath.

Then another.

Dean looked at you.

Okay?

You nodded.

Then changed your mind.

You held your hand flat and tilted it side to side.

Dean smiled.

“Kind of okay?”

Another nod.

“I'll take kind of.”

That afternoon, you sat on the living room floor while Dean practised his signs.

He had developed an increasingly ridiculous notebook system. Black ink for signs he knew. Blue for ones he was learning. Red for signs he frequently got wrong.

Definitely had been underlined in red three times.

You pointed at it.

“Don't.”

You smiled.

“I know I keep messing it up.”

You signed it correctly.

Dean copied you.

Wrong.

You covered your face.

“Oh, come on.”

You took his hands and adjusted them.

“There?”

You nodded.

He tried again.

Correct.

Dean grinned.

“Definitely.”

You nodded.

He looked at your hands still resting around his.

Neither of you pulled away.

Then Dean's expression grew thoughtful.

“Can I ask something?”

You nodded.

“Do you remember what your voice sounded like?”

The question landed softly.

You considered it.

It had been years.

There were old home videos somewhere at your mother's house. Birthday parties. Christmas mornings. Little fragments of the child you had been before silence became safer.

You nodded.

A little.

Dean waited.

You typed:

High.

He smiled.

“I figured.”

You glared.

“Not in a bad way.”

You continued.

I talked constantly.

Dean laughed.

“No.”

You nodded.

“I don't believe you.”

You typed faster.

My mom used to beg me to stop talking during movies.

Dean's mouth fell open.

“You?”

You hit his arm.

“I'm processing.”

You gave him a look.

He laughed.

“Okay. Keep going.”

I sang all the time.

His smile softened.

You stared down at the screen.

Another memory surfaced.

Not painful.

Your mother laughing while you stood on the couch holding a hairbrush like a microphone.

You typed:

I wanted to be a singer when I was six.

Dean's face lit up.

“Seriously?”

You nodded.

“What kind?”

You shrugged.

“Pop star?”

A nod.

“Obviously.”

You narrowed your eyes.

“You would've been incredible.”

You shook your head.

“I've heard your music taste. Incredible might be generous.”

You shoved him.

Dean caught your wrist, laughing.

Then his expression softened.

He released you but kept his hand open between you.

You placed yours inside it.

“Maybe someday you'll sing again.”

Your chest tightened.

Before the fear could settle, he continued.

“Maybe you won't.”

You looked at him.

“Either one's okay.”

You squeezed his hand.

Dean lifted your joined hands to his mouth and kissed your fingers.

Then he raised his hands.

The question had become familiar enough that he no longer needed to think through every movement.

Can I kiss you?

You smiled.

Instead of answering, you leaned forward.

Dean met you halfway.

His hand settled gently at the back of your neck while yours rested against his chest. The kiss was slow, warm and familiar in a way that still surprised you.

When you pulled away, Dean kept his forehead against yours.

“You know something?”

You raised an eyebrow.

“I like your voice.”

You glanced instinctively towards your hands.

Dean nodded.

“Exactly.”

He kissed the tips of your fingers.

“Every version of it.”

Taglist {open}: @ooopssssu @sleep-i-ness @zagreen @alice07ea @adrienneleclerc @nau-van @kmc1989 @femurgetokill @sshxamy @f4ll3n28 @redbag55 @meriamloves-tsunoda-yuki @rainbowstar405 @gandalfthegoatsblog @dina2223 @partygetsmewetter12 @notplutos @lulusa27 @angelsvoice1love @superbfishhumanoidweasel @ilocuras24 @inchidentontheracetrack @five-seconds-flat @thecraziestcrayon @yolasturlis @noonenuts @wonderland2425 @purplerainx1 @sarcasm-ismy-onlydefense-blog @iamshiningeuw @nicolej04 @mld25 @brianna28483 @fangirl93 @bellarkeselection @calums-betch @mswwvaleska @wiishies @bookluver114 @hagarsays @lilliepetalx @raynetargaryan2 @c-a-b3002 @mariamadison6-blog @baeeyarr @monayyy-21 @demirunner @flannelshirts-and-fingerguns @loverofmusic @velvetsighs @alwaysclassyeagle @missbmc94 @ethanthequeefqueen @garrettgrahamssexysnaps @parker-barnes-af @peterpangirl21 @katrinaellie @idontknowwhyimhere33 @powellssaturn @sangxiaonisworld @ephemeralninon @kkkkisworld @laenys-targaryen @smilezzz-artzs @chanelwidag @superlegend216 @thatsavioletiontobe @hwishwimcl @spooky-librarian-ghost @alexnpsblog @tillyk @treeofgarbage @lily-ann22 @outpostsworld @saltyfriendsaladbandit @buckandeddiesverison @caffeinatednerd90 @ryswritingrecord @yukimaniac @sapphire-deity @run-for-the-hills @wolfiee10 @itssamitime @chunkymonkey576

[icecream4starscream]

Spoiler Warning for Transformers One. Please go see the film, it's great.

Something occurred to me when rewatching Elita-1's firing scene:

Right off the bat, she's presented as an absolute unit in the mines. We see her being a very by-the-book character. She's incredibly competent, strong, serious, focused, and an effective leader.

Maybe a little too effective.

We learn that Sentinel goes out of his way to personally take care of any "anomalies" in his system and does so in a way where the blame always gets shifted away from him.

It's why he personally went to see Pax and D-16 after the Iacon 5000 race. He makes himself out to be the open-minded, compassionate leader he's been parading as.

When Darkwing throws Orion and D-16 into sub-level 50, neither bot suspects Sentinel for their demotion. In fact, they beg Darkwing to talk to Sentinel so he can sort out the "misunderstanding".

It's later confirmed that Sentinel never had any intention of talking with Orion or D-16 after their first meeting. When Orion reunites with his fellow miners later in the film, they mention that Sentinel put out a statement saying that they both died from "racing injuries".

Sentinel might've not even openly ordered Darkwing to dispose of them. Darkwing might've been manipulated into thinking everyone was mocking him for losing the race (thanks to lowly miners) making him want to get rid of them.

Subconsciously manipulating someone like Darkwing would've been easy for Sentinel.

Sentinel clearly does not tolerate anyone rising above the station he imposes on them.

So what does this have to do with Elita-1 being fired?

We see her rigidly following the rules, meeting all quotas, running a tight and efficient crew. She's doing her job as a miner, a role unknowingly forced upon her by Sentinel, perfectly.

Shouldn't Sentinel be happy about that?

Well sure...

If Elita wasn't actively trying to get promoted.

We don't get a lot of information about how promotion works in TFOne's mining system, but we do know that in other iterations of pre-war Cybertron, one of the only ways miners could rise out of the mines was by participating in ridiculously difficult gladiatorial fights in Kaon's pits.

In other iterations, this was how D-16/Megatron was able to escape his station and how he grew to be so strong.

So basically, whatever version you look at, the miners are told "if you work really, reeeeally hard, and do your job perfectly, and don't die in the process (which, odds are, you will) you might, MIGHT get a chance to get out of the caste you were born into."

It's BS.

It's an impossible feat. No one is actually supposed to be able to achieve that goal, but it's the metaphorical carrot dangling in front of the work mules so they don't notice the ever-tightening rope around their necks.

But every so often there's someone extraordinary, like Elita, who actually manages to meet this impossible standard and with whom it becomes increasingly difficult to deny this coveted promotion.

So what can Sentinel do about bots like Elita-1?

Simple.

Wait for a screw-up.

It must happen eventually.

A member of Elita's team, Orion Pax, in clear violation of evacuation protocol, goes back into the mines to save Jazz from getting crushed to death.

Despite managing to escape, the closing mine causes a tunnel support to be flung into nearby machinery (which doesn't look critical and could probably be easily fixed).

Then, right the heck outta nowhere, Darkwing drops in, SECONDS AFTER THE INCIDENT JUST HAPPENED, and immediately fires Elita.

No "What happened?" or "Who's responsible?" or "The supervisor wants to see you", he just pops into the scene and demotes Elita, arguably one of the best workers in the mine, to a bottom-tier waste management position.

As if he'd been on standby, actively waiting for a reason to fire her.

"But Elita herself wasn't the one who screwed up!"

Doesn't matter.

"But she told them to follow protocol!"

Doesn't matter.

"But Orion admitted he was the one at fault!"

Doesn't matter.

"But a bot was saved! Jazz would've died!"

Does. Not. MATTER.

Her firing is presented as the typical "one character says thing won't happen then thing immediately happens" joke, but given how so much thought went into so much of TFOne's background details, I can't help but wonder if this was a hint to how broken the system was and how it was always rigged in a way that ensures the miners will never get out.

Not to mention, once Orion, D-16, and Jazz safely escape, she chews Orion out by saying, "If I get fired for this..." meaning this abrupt, out-of-nowhere, baseless firing is absolutely typical.

That's what makes Elita's "I'm better than you" speech to Orion that much more meaningful, because in many ways, she is better than him.

She's a better worker, better fighter, better at completing the task at hand, better at making sure things run smoothly. She is, ironically enough, an efficient and perfectly-running machine.

But had Orion not dragged Elita to the surface, she probably would've spent her whole life obediently following the rules, never questioning why things were the way they were. She was so focused on rising up within the system that she could never look beyond it.

Elita might be the cog by which other cogs turn.

But Orion is the spark that shows them a better way.

That's why he was given the Matrix.

[loveqnai]

loveqnai's hq!

'09, south asian, she/her.

spider-man, marvel, stranger things, pjo, franz kafka, f1, kpop, mason thames, horror fanatic, letterboxd, cinephile, scream franchise, fear street, physical media.

@loveqnaialterego

I don't care if monday's blue- CORTIS!

NECROMANCIN' DANCIN' , corjeans

⟶ synopsis, What happens when a bunch of rich teenagers from a prestigious school come face to face with the one thing they can never outrun- the truth? What happens when they're forced to face their karma, all because of one mysterious new exchange student? [smau + written series]

STARGIRL, 6th MEMBER CHRONICLE

⟶ synopsis, You are the sixth member of CORTIS— a co-ed group formed under hybe. You were one of the first people to join the band, followed by the others. Being the only girl in the group is far worse than you anticipated, but you love it (don't tell them that). [smau + written series]

Tuesday's black- AHN KEONHO!

UNBLOCKED! , ahn keonho

⟶ synopsis, after getting blocked by his girlfriend over an argument, keonho tries his best to get unblocked!

IT'S FEMININE INTUITION , ahn keonho

⟶ synopsis, when keonho accidentally hits you at a music event and fails to realise, he messages you to apologise. one misunderstanding leads to animosity between the maknaes of both the groups. eventually, both groups join forces to get their stubborn youngest ones together. [smau + written]

HERO OR MENACE? , ahn keonho

⟶ synopsis, Ahn Keonho's entire life revolves around one person, or rather, one vigilante— Spider-girl. His friends are tired of it, listening to him rant about the new Daily Bugle blog about her, and how he wants to burn the damn office down. You are Spider-girl. Pretty straightforward, actually. You have a life-long crush on Keonho, and everyone except for him knows. Keonho spends his time pining over Spider-girl, but the target might be closer than he thinks. [smau + written]

ONE SIDED DELUSIONALSHIP? , ahn keonho

⟶ synopsis, When everyone doubts Keonho on if he could bag his crush, who happens to not only be an actress, but also a huge fan of CORTIS— he has to prove them wrong. Does he, though? [smau]

TEAM CAP VS TEAM IRON MAN, ahn keonho

⟶ synopsis, When you find out that the guy you've been talking to has been on the opps' side the entire time, it leads to a petty fight. However, Sean comes to save the day. [smau]

WHEN YOU FINISH SAVING THE WORLD, ahn keonho

⟶ synopsis, We can be heroes. We can salvage our shortcomings. We can spend our entire lives trying to save the world- trying to be something we're not, just to please the world. But if we fail to save our own, what have we truly accomplished? [written]

BREAK UP WITH YOUR BOYFRIEND, ahn keonho

⟶ synopsis, Keonho hates your boyfriend. You hate your boyfriend too (sometimes). He wishes to the heavens above for you two to break up, all while constantly trying to get you on his side. It doesn't end well for him. [smau]

YOU CAN GO BACK TO THE PAST, BUT NOBODY'S THERE, ahn keonho

⟶ synopsis, The past isn't a place you revisit, rather, a place you reminisce. You can go back to the past, but no one's there. Not your parents. Not your friends. Not the person you used to be. Not the person you used to love.

And Wednesday too- EOM SEONGHYEON!

GOOD RIDDANCE, eom seonghyeon.

⟶ synopsis, Seonghyeon was an awful boyfriend, and your friends wished nothing but for you to break up with him. He thought you would never leave, and you thought he would change. Both of you were wrong. [smau]

Thursday I don't care about you- KIM JUHOON!

nothing yet...

It's Friday- MARTIN EDWARDS!

SHIT, HE'S SO PRETTY, martin edwards.

⟶ synopsis, Martin needs to understand when he can power through, and when he needs some help from you. [written]

I'm in love- CHAO JAMES!

one day i'll write a song about you , chao james 𝄞

⟶ synopsis, james was always there to correct your mispronounciations, until time got in the way. you always thought he would be there to translate your words for the world, but after your break-up, you lost hope. so when you found out that james had used your mispronounced words in his new song, you couldn't help but dive back in the past. [smau]

rule #1— never trust the love interest, chao james

⟶ synopsis, There were certain rules to survive a horror/slasher movie, as given by your best friends Seonghyeon and Keonho.

Never trust the love interest.

Never say 'I'll be right back.'

Never run up the stairs.

The other rules, you could follow. But how could you not trust your ever-loving boyfriend, James? [written, ⋆˚࿔ personal fav]

Just in case my fate go- FORMULA 1!

I live by my own- OSCAR PIASTRI!

two oscars | op81

⟶ synopsis, the one with the academy award. [smau]

mini incident | op81

⟶ synopsis, the one with the stunt injury. [written]

© loveqnai, all rights reserved.