Pinkie Pining Is So Cute To Me, Fr

Pinkie pining is so cute to me, fr

TW: self-deprecating??, harrassment, stalker, yandere struggles, (I think that’s it?)

I can’t imagine the hell that it would be of having a yandere that is 100x out of your league. Like just imagine being a normal ass joe, nothing going on in life, no big group of friends, no exciting qualities, nothing to offer ANYONE. And here comes this god like figure- waltzing or barging into your shameful life and going “I am entranced by you, so deeply and utterly enraptured that you haunt every aspect of my existence. I have killed and maimed for you… allowing me to be yours is the only thing I wish for. The only thing I desire. Please, please just allow me to bask in your presence for the rest of my life..”

I’m getting mad just thinking about it, like how would someone even respond to that!? They let themselves into your shitty apartment (with a spare key they finessed from your landlord) they have the GALL to sit on your bed after being caught shamelessly snuggling under the covers, all model like?? Telling them that you’ll call the cops so that they leave but knowing in your heart that the police would arrest YOU before they accuse someone as godly as THEM! of course this doesn’t faze them. Though the sadness on their face is evident. Somehow you get them to leave and think that will be it for forever…

Until now you can see them clearly, everywhere you go. If you go to a coffee shop they’ll arrive 2 minutes after you and just sit across from you as long as your there. Your best bet is ignoring them because if you tell a worker of this person “harassing” you then you’ll just get a “really bitch??” Look and told to not disturb THEM! They even walk right next to you on the sidewalk, other people simply stopping to stare at their beauty and aura while you just grit your teeth and try to walk faster. Some brave ones stop them to ask for their number or if their single, only for them to wrap an arm around your own and tell them that their dating you. They are OBVIOUSLY with YOU. So why the FUCK is this trash asking dumb questions?? It gives you second hand embarrassment and your self esteem goes in the shitter when others just give that disbelief look and reluctantly leave it at that. If you try and buy anything they will just whip out their black card and pay for it instead nor matter your protests. If you say something like “hey don’t spend money! I can buy my own things!” They look you straight in the face with zero hesitation and just go “I know you can, but I want to spend money on you. All my money is YOURS. You are still using YOUR money.” Bro at this point I’ll make them take me to the Gucci store or sum.

Someone that is the EPITOME of peak human desire. An irresistible face and body, black cards in their pockets, mansions, sports cars, high paying job and famous people for “friends”. They are what hustle culture people DREAM to be, so why would they be interested in you? Why do they act like you’re the one doing THEM a favor by just existing? Why do they look at you so lovingly when masses stare at them with the same look? Why get so jealous and overprotective when you show basic human decency to others? As if you were some Hot shot movie star!

And the worst part is, when they do creepy gross stalker shit it doesn’t even seem like they are the one being weird. If you bother entertaining them at a cafe and leave for the bathroom, you’ll most likely come back to them with your used spoon in they mouth.

———————————————————

Btw no one is how I portray reader in this lil scenario. EVERYONE is exceptional and wonderful and beautiful In their own way! Just cuz u can’t see doesn’t mean others don’t either. This was more of something I wrote when I was going through it.

Allow Me To Walk You Home, Commander

Commander Cody x fem!reader masterlist

Word count: 2.4k Summary: Cody can't flirt when he's drunk. a/n: nice to see you all again! It's been a while.. I've been writing a lot lately :) took a quick break from a heavier piece I'm working on to do something more fun with one of our favorite troopers. Please enjoy! I'll definitely be writing a lot more clones from now on!

Finally.

You sigh, watching the last group of clones stumble their way out of their booth, one of them tripping over the platform and failing to catch himself before rolling around on the sticky floor in a fit of laughter. You scrunch your nose up in disgust as you continue wiping down the counter, evidently alone in your scrutiny of the grossness as the other troopers howl with laughter, one of them hoisting their friend up and supporting his weight over their shoulder. The men, previously sharp looking in their naval uniforms, definitely looked a little worse for wear as they stumbled drunkenly out the door, and you’re pretty sure a few of them had lost their hats at some point in the night. 

They swing the door open, but not before one of the more drunken soldiers shoots you a corny wink and makes a clicking noise, shooting ridiculous finger guns at you, “Thanks, doll!” He calls out at you, before backing into the closing door and letting it slam in his face. 

You chuckle, shaking your head. A relieved sigh leaves your body. You truly thought they’d never leave. It was already well-past when you normally kept the place open. Grabbing your bag from the back room of 79’s, you make sure to shut out the lights, close the blinds, lock up the register, and grab your keys for the front door.

It’s been a long week. You recently got promoted to manager after your boss decided, literally  at the flip of a dime, that she was going to go traipsing around the galaxy with her new girlfriend. No judgment…to each their own. But a little more responsibility and a proper heads up really would have been nice. Because honestly, you’d only just started working at 79’s a few months ago and officially got handed the keys and a manager's book on her way to the space port. So basically, you got the post-it note rundown version on how to keep this place running a week before she left, abandoning the place in your care. 

And you’re not gonna lie, it’s been tough.  

You rolled your shoulders and groaned at the soreness you felt all over. You’d never intended to become a full-time manager and server, and the business side of things on top of the late hours you spent here nightly, it’s really, really had you doubting your competence.

Throwing your coat and hat on, you open the door and feel the cool air bite into your skin with a hiss. Coruscant can get pretty windy in the later hours of the night. The evidence of such shows when a big gust of wind suddenly hits you from the side, threatening to wrench the door violently from your hands before you can lock it. 

You whisper out a few curses, feeling your hat swoosh off your head with the wind while you struggle with the door for the upper hand in your game of tug-a-war. 

Dank farrik. You grunt out in frustration. I liked that hat.

You dismiss the hat as a lost cause, given the layout of the windy city and the open space highways, odds are it didn't survive. You’d just have to make the trek home tonight without it. 

When the strong gust passes, you take advantage and finally clip the door closed, making sure to test all three locks with a jiggle before leaving the bar for the night.

“Excuse me-” A voice slurs from behind you, instantly provoking a panicked scream to cut through the previously silent night. 

You whip around, looking to the dark area where you think the sound originated from. Your hands covering your beating heart as you catch your breath.

There, leaning against the wall connecting the street to your bar, just barely lit by a dying street light, sits a wide-eyed and frozen clone in white and orange armor, holding what looks to be…your hat? You sigh, agitated by the scare, but let your hands relax down by your sides.

“Uh..I- I’m sorry!” He says, holding up his hands in a show of surrender, making you furrow your eyebrows.

You take a few steps towards him, closing the distance between the two of you, not at all worried about your safety with the trooper. If anything, you’re worried he’s the one in need of help, sitting crookedly propped-up, half-asleep and definitely intoxicated by the looks of it. 

“I-I’m not a threat.” He promises, raised hands waving out and away from his body as if to confirm his own words. 

You sigh tiredly, rubbing a hand down your fatigued face, “I know, honey.” You say, letting yourself squat down to rest on your heels so you can get a better look at him. 

He nods once more, acknowledging your understanding, before glancing down at the warm cloth in his hands, scrunching it up a bit with furrowed brows before his eyes widen in recognition again and he quickly holds it out to you, “I think this got away from you.” 

He offers up a kind, crooked smile with your hat, further holding it out to you and encouraging you to take it, and you can’t help but smile as you reach for it. 

“How very thoughtful of you, -” you do a quick once-over of the clone, not immediately noticing any distinguishable rank marks on his armor. You try the word out apprehensively, spelling it out slowly, “-Sergeant?”  

He straightens up instantly, eyes widening once more and using his arms to further push his body up against the wall. You lift your hands up, ready to slow him down if he tries to stand.

“S-Sergeant?” He stutters, baffled as if accused of something. “N-no ma’am. It’s Marshal Commander Cody of the 212th, at your service.” 

Ah. So. You’ve got a stranded, drunken Commander on your hands. A Marshal Commander at that. Certainly not your usual stray trooper lingering around the closed bar intoxicated. Not that it happens all that often, but you can’t say you’ve ever had the responsibility of a Commander on your hands.  

You smile apologetically at him, hoping you haven't come across as uncaring on account of your fatigue, despite also trying not to giggle at the slurred version of a clearly rehearsed introduction. “My apologies, Commander Cody. It’s been a long night, and admittedly, I’m not the most familiar with clone armor and rankings.”

The Commander sighs, leaning back at-ease again. He lets out a chuckle, shaking his head a bit before looking overwhelmed by the action, “S’alright, I don’t blame you. I would think myself a sloppy shiny if I saw me like this.”  

You pause for a moment to think. Not quite sure what to do with him. There definitely wasn't a chapter in your manager’s booklet titled What to do when you stumble upon an intoxicated Commander of the GAR passed out in front of your bar. You were just gonna have to wing this one.

“Well, speaking of which, Commander,” You say, enunciating his title and earning another sweet smile from the man, clearly he liked hearing you say it. “Care to tell me what you’re still doing out here at this hour?”

He huffs, shrugging a shoulder lazily and letting his head lull back against the wall to gaze up at you. “Just… catching hats for beautiful civvies.” You smile sweetly at him, and though you’re pretty sure he was just kidding and not really flirting, you can almost see the hearts in his eyes at your response, further provoking a giggle to escape you. This poor guy is really out of it.  

“I see,” You say, the smile not quite leaving your lips. You tug the beanie on as you push up from your squat, his eyes following you as you rise. He frowns a bit at the sudden distance between the two of you, from his perspective at least. “Well, as comfortable as you look down there, it’s a bit late for both of us to still be out, wouldn't you say, Commander?” You put extra emphasis on the title, bringing a slight blush to his ears and having him shuffle his extended feet back a little.

“O-oh, yes. Of course,” He says frantically, trying to match the speed of his words with the speed at which he rises, “Allow me to escort you- whoa!”

You lean over quickly to catch the Commander as he loses his footing, wrapping your untrained arms awkwardly around his chest and shoulders before he could face plant into the concrete. 

“-Walk me home?” You finish, laughing a bit breathlessly as he groans in your arms, muttering out an apology. “Funny, I was just about to offer the same to you.”

“N-no, Ma’am. That’s not necessary at all,” He mumbles, trying to straighten up and out of your arms. You’d slipped down onto your knees to support the Commander as he’d lost his balance, currently propping him up with a hand to his shoulder. “I was just, uh, you know. Setting up my line?” He pauses to clear his throat, “Ma’am.” 

“Your line?” You ask, nodding unconvincingly at the ‘I’m not drunk you can take me seriously’ look he’s really gunning for. 

“Y-yeah,” He chuckles, glossy eyes meeting your gaze as you steady his arms for support.

“Well you know because I- uh,”. He scratches the back of his neck uncertainly, the words slipping out before he could think them through, or come up with something better. “Just- uh, well I-I fell. Right?”

“Yes,” you bite your lip to keep from laughing, “Yes, you did fall.”

“Exactly, hah, I uh- well cause I fell for..for you?” He shakes his head in confusion, a dramatic frown on his face, and this time you can’t help but let a little laugh escape you, to which his eyes widen and he huffs in exasperation, “Ah forget it, I don’t know. Something about falling for you.” His frustrated face is blushing in embarrassment and you place a hand on his shoulder. 

“Commander, I think it’s best if I walk you home now.” 

He sighs, “Yes ma’am, I think that would be best.”

-----------------

You weren’t actually sure where you should take the Commander, but the Republic Military Base seemed like a good bet, plus it was close to 79’s. 

To say that The Coruscant Guard was surprised to see a civvie stumbling towards the base with a Commander slung over their shoulder at this hour would be an understatement. In fact, you’re pretty sure bafflement isn’t even a big enough word to cover it. 

The two Guards posted at the front gates went through practically every stage of emotion before settling on one: shock, concern, understanding, humor, then downright hysterics. 

In fact you were pretty sure they were crying under those buckets. 

And Cody, poor Commander Cody, just leaned right up against you and glared at them, not even bothering to defend himself. 

Eventually, one of them made a call to a Commander Fox who called a Captain Rex who called someone in Cody’s battalion to retrieve him at the gates. 

You could hear the laughter approaching from behind the walls before it even opened, prompting the Commander to mutter a “Kriffing hell, here we go.” He grumbles out another apology, before the gates slide open to reveal two fully armored troopers in white and orange armor, who just melt at the sight of their Commander in your arms.  “Ooooohhhhh, Commander,” One of them bellows, “There you are!”

“Oh we’ve been absolutely distraught! Worried sick, sir!” “Thank goodness this lovely lady brought you home! You must have been so cold out there in the dark!” You can see the two Corrie Guards trying to stifle their laughter as Cody mumbles something under his breath. You can feel the purposefully muffled insults hitting your cheek and turn to smile at him, prompting him to look up at you with apologetic, guilty eyes again. Your locked gaze was suddenly interrupted by one of them clapping a hand on the Commander’s shoulder, imbalancing you for a moment before he was pulled onto a new shoulder. 

“Awe, come now, Commander. Leave the poor girl alone,” The trooper sighs dreamily as the Commander shrugs him off, reluctantly glancing back at you a couple times as he walks away, sporting much more coordination now than you’d thought he had.  

The one closest to you chuckles, lingering by you for a moment, “Thank you, for making sure he got back safe.”

You smile at him in return, “Well, I don’t think he would have left me out there alone if it were the other way around, would he?”

The clone pauses, tilting his head at your words before speaking, “No, he most certainly would not.” He seems to nod at you again in appreciation, before moving to walk towards his Commander and brother, waiting just inside the gates of the base. 

You could hear Cody muttering to the other trooper as they waited, the latter hollering back at the two of you “Waxer, get a move on.” Waxer throws a quick wave your way, before turning and clapping a hand onto one of the Corrie Guards.

“Make sure she gets home safe, will you?” He says, waiting for the shock trooper to confirm with a “Yes, sir!” 

You assume the Guardsman starts to comm someone for an escort, so you watch the three troopers retreating into the base, catching the tail end of their conversation.

“No. You said what to her?”

“That you fell for her?”

“Would you two lower your voices! She might hear you!”

“Oh, Commander,” Waxer cries out dramatically, heaving between bouts of laughter, “What happened to your smooth game, sir?”

The other trooper laughs at the taunt, you never caught his name, and you can vaguely hear Cody threatening them both with something unintelligible in the distance. 

“Must be some girl, eh Boil? To make our savvy Commander forget how to flirt!”

“Oooh she is at that,” You hear Boil sing, “One time I caught her restocking the higher shelves at 79’s, and she was wearing this pretty little number that just barely gave me a peak at-”

“Alright that’s it-” You hear the unmistakable tone of a Commander, before hearing two sets of feet run, screaming joyfully down the open hallway, followed by a loud, muffled curse and a bang as the Commander lost his balance and face-planted straight into a wall. 

I believe every character should be able to be a little creepy and delusional, as a treat.

Jewish children at Hebrew School in Harlem; c.1940s

via reddit

Riptide: *a strict leader with a focus on the republic cause, willing to forfeit everything for the mission, stone cold*

Also Riptide after cyare joins their battalion: "You said you hurt your finger, ad'ika?" *kisses it better*