(A/N. Things from my drafts literally get moved to the queue based on if I had the energy to tag them when I wrote them. If I did, they'll be published wayyy sooner than the ones I was too lazy to tag and just saved as is. Idk why this is important. It just is. )
I like to think that Jason Todd is "romantic" without realizing it. He assumes he's really bad at being in love because...well, he was never really taught what it was supposed to look or feel like. But he's actually very good at it accidentally. He never felt like he fit in, so in order to stay relevant to his family he became useful. The habit kind of developed within his relationship with you, as well. He'd fix things around the apartment to save you the time or trouble, if you had an early day he'd wake up even earlier to make you coffee and breakfast. He'd be useful.
He'd peel your oranges without thinking about it, bend down to tie your shoes without you asking, zip up your dress the second he saw you slip it on. Never really thinking about it being perceived as sweet or romantic. He just wanted to stay important so you wouldn't leave him. He'll wash your hair, bring you stuff when you're sick, do an oil change on your car before you even knew it needed to be done. Most of which, without asking or telling you. Because he didn't need you to appreciate those things, he just needed you to think he was relevant. He poured his soul into making your life easy and enjoyable, not at much of any expense to himself, because he couldn't screw it up like he had with his family. They might not need him and he could make peace with that, but he had to stay useful to you. Otherwise, he'd have nothing.
do i think conformitygate is gonna happen? no. there is, however, a small part of me that does; the little girl me that i know is still in there, she does. she wants it to happen and believes it will, because she still has that magic of childhood with glitter and unicorns and santa and that anything can happen.
Sally has appeared in several ghost sighting videos over the years.
The forest is a hotspot for those from out of town to visit, they track through the outskirts and jump at the creaking trees and the itching sensation of being watched. But most come for the supposed supernatural activity, AKA Sally.
She LOVES waving to the camera... And scaring whoever is holding it. At one point she managed to chase three groups in one week! The Tall Man was very happy, he even gave her a pat on the head!
For a while she would beg Ann or Dina to show her the videos on Youtube. She wanted to see! The idea of being an 'urban legend' was greatly appealing.
...That is until they finally sat and watched one of the videos with her, and all that appeared in Sally's place was a glitchy, smear-like form, a terrifying thing with her eyes and a gaping mouth. It frightened her so badly that she couldn't sleep for weeks, her mind stuck in a loop of confusion.
Since Dust is on the mind, what if he almost/thinks he killed his s/o? Like lashed out and had bad hallucinations, etc
I mean its likely happened before
Dust and his hallucinations have gotten better solely due to being out of a time loop which was really just a place designed to strip away at his mental health
But even I headcanon they still happen and they cause violent crash outs with his s/o getting caught in the cross fire. He feels AWFUL afterwards and he hates himself for it but its always a risk and it happens
There are times he considers leaving because they happen but he's never known how to let go, he can't let go of Papyrus even after all that's happened
He would never kill his s/o unless the circumstances had gotten very extreme, but him thinking he did is possible
The mental anguish would be intense, the self hatred immense and if his partner doesn't assure him quickly he might actually try to join them. He's...devoted. And in this scenario assuming he's indepthed to Nightmare....he really doesn't have much left.
Would you.....bring savage back using nightsister magik?...even if there was a chance he'd be conscious and aware, m
Maul doesn’t look at you as he replies, “I would not want to inflict that on him, nor would I want to see him lose all consciousness, not unless I knew for certain he would be the same…”
[plaintext: I would not want to inflict that on him, nor would I want to see him lose all consciousness, not unless I knew for certain he would be the same…]
He closes his eyes.
“Though I never stop wishing there were a way I could have saved him…”
[plaintext: Though, I never stop wishing there were a way I could have saved him…]
the sun streamed through the thin hotel blinds, gently waking you up. you were still tired from the rehearsal dinner festivities, all the stress from the event leaving your body the moment your head hit the pillow. and yet, the day came anyways. your wedding day.
"mornin', bonnie." johnny grumbled, his morning voice low and luscious. "mornin', fiancé." that earned you a growl, his muscled arm pulling you towards him until you straddled his lap, cheek against his chest. "las' time ye can call me tha'." you giggled, then lapsed into comfortable silence. your fingers playing with his chest hair, his fingers massaging the nape of your neck. the importance of the day was hitting you and he could feel it, your body tensing in his arms. he hummed quietly in acknowledgement, moving his hands from your neck to your shoulders, rubbing out the tension.
"do you still want to marry me? last chance." you meant it as a joke, but you trailed off at the end, vulnerability seeping into your words. johnny grasped your ass and moved you up until you were face to face, chest to chest, no part of your bodies not touching. even your feet bracketed his own, the points of contact too intimate to name.
"mo chridhe, i was gone the day ye told me soap is a stupid nickname." you grinned, your thoughts of insecurity drifting away. "i still stand by my point." his eyes met yours, all warmth and understanding. "as long as it gets ye to talk ta me." you kissed him them, ignoring the morning breath in favor of your lover's taste, your soon-to-be husband.
"i'm glad we did this. i couldn't not see you before the wedding." you whispered against his lips. he nodded, kissing your forehead. "c'mon, lass. 've got to marry ye soon, or we'll be in bed all day." johnny kissed you once more, sitting up in bed to bend your body against his. he poured everything he couldn't say into the kiss, promises of forever he meant to keep. lazy sundays and calloused hands, a retirement in the highlands. you were his duty now, his number one. his to protect, in sickness or in health, for richer or poorer.
--
and when price was standing at your door three years later, boonie hat in hand, your first thought was that morning and how it was bad luck for a groom to see his intended the day of the wedding. there never really is an expiration date on luck, or lack thereof.
