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#Idk I just feel like I missing something but also could just be a basis to look at all the people doing great
quinnick · 1 year
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kookslastbutton · 1 year
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Too Late to Dream ༓ jjk (m) II ch. II
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✑ Summary: You did it. You married your college professor. You even bought a house together. Against all odds, everything had fallen into place. But after two years of marriage, you begin feeling something was missing. You want a baby but your husband can’t say the same.
Pairing: economics professor!jungkook x fem!artist!reader
AU/Genre: angst, smut, fluff, marriage au, age gap, series
Rating: M, 18+
Word Count: 5,044
Warnings: 8-year age gap, flashbacks of professor-student relationship (oc was a Masters student), fighting, pent-up issues/desires, jk has daddy issues, mentions of therapy, kookie trying to be a good husband, cute coupley stuff that idk anyone will like but 🥺 👉👈, jk says cawk , idk why this is a warning
Now Playing: Make It Right, Tryna Be, Infinity, It Will Rain, Heaven+
A/N: Hi guys! I'm back! I thought I'd start off with a little flashback and then diving back into the story. Also, big thing–I decided not to make jk a complete butt. I don't want this story to be about "jk finally coming around after treating oc like garbage for wanting a kid". It's more of a we'll figure-it-out-together kinda thing though there will be bumps in the road. Anyway, enjoy 🥰
<< ch.I ༓ ch. III >> | series masterlist
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To say falling in love with Jungkook was an effortless, butterflies-in-your-tummy, love-at-first-sight, you-know-it-when-you-see-it sort of affair is far from the truth. In actuality, you and Jungkook met on a very normal basis and had very normal rapport…well, somewhat normal.
Jungkook was your economics professor in grad school and you were merely one out of eighty of his students during the first semester. Surely you'd be walking out with no more than a barely scrimmaged 'A' and remnants of stupid economics jokes he and his colleagues found slapstick funny.
Jungkook always had an interesting sense of humor.
Bottom line? Your life wasn't a drama and you certainly didn't plan on living like it was–especially when your parents were on your tail, making sure their hard-earned money was well spent.
As if being bonked on the head by something called fate, however, Jungkook sent you away with far more than odd jokes and good grades.
Hey, hindsight is 20/20.
four years ago
“Oh, good morning.” A soft, yet hoarse voice strides past you. You view the man, estimating that he be in his early 30s though could easily pass for 25 by his youthful appearance. His hair is black, a bit shaggy but well-kept nonetheless. Silver piercings dangle from his ears and a pair of rectangular glasses rest on his perfectly symmetrical face. This is your professor?
Undoubtedly, what mesmerizes you the most is the striking arm tattoo partially displayed under the rolled-up sleeves of his dress shirt. You remember temporarily considering tattoo artistry in high school but studio arts appealed to you more.
Not like you got to do either though, seeing as you’ve been stuck in econ for the fifth year in a row. You’re parents insisted you get your master’s immediately after undergrad…how wonderful for you.
But back to the man at the front of the room. You weren’t expecting someone so hip and attractive–very, very attractive.
Your stomach churns but you brush the feeling away.
He's your professor for god sake.
The man, coincidentally your professor, quirks a small smile your way and sets his bag on the podium at the front. “Didn’t expect anyone to be here for another twenty minutes.”
“I just got out of another class a couple of rooms down so I’m here early.” You straighten in your seat and return a smile of your own. “It’s nice to meet you Dr. Jeon. I’m Y/N.” You start bouncing your leg up and down, clicking the pen in your hand. Please be right, please be right, you chant silently, hoping you remembered the name correctly.
Jungkook notices your slightly restless state but he doesn’t say anything about it.
“Just to be sure, you are here for ECON 602 right? Macroeconomic Theory?” He unzips his bag and sets his laptop on the podium. Making brief eye contact, he catches sight of the piece of paper directly below your nose. “That’s a beautiful sketch.”
You glance down, moving the paper to the side as if embarrassed. Not many people see your work beyond close friends, and even then you like to keep it to yourself. “Yes, absolutely,” you reply. “ECON 602, 12:15 pm. And thanks, I draw as a hobby.”
Your professor hums, nodding as he connects the HDMI cable to his laptop and lowers the presentation board.“ Dr. Kim is going to be quite jealous when he hears such artistic talent is in my economics class.” He lets out a slight chuckle. “You don’t mind if I tell him, do you? A little competition we have going on.”
You snort at the comment.
Dr. Kim Taehyung was the art department’s most talked about professor. Everyone knew him for his extremely unique perspective, classy personality, as well as his breathtaking artwork. You’ve passed him in the hallways a number of times, wishing you could study under him and dare you say, in more ways than one.
“I don’t mind.” You shake your head. “Are you and Dr. Kim close?” Maybe you shouldn’t be this curious but it was now fifteen minutes until the start of class and no one else had shown. What else were you going to fill time with? Awkward silence while you watch your professor fumble and tap on his keyboard?
“We were colleagues if you can believe that.” He pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “Only two years ahead of me in undergrad. When I first started teaching here I had no idea he was here too. But you know what they say __, it’s a small world.”
“Smaller,” you retort. “I feel like everywhere I go I run into someone I’ve known or seen at some point in my life. You just never really know I guess.” When you first entered university, you were counting your lucky stars that most of your high school peers were attending college nearby your hometown. You on the other hand were a good five to six hours from home. Last you checked, however, half of those peers were now getting married or on their second kid. Crazy how some people’s lives change on a dime.
You watch as your professor shuffles a few sheets of paper in his hands, scanning them briefly. “I can relate to that,” he mutters. “Pretty sure we haven’t met before though. Could be a bigger world than we think. Now where’s everyone else? Didn’t all drop last minute did they?” The man lifts his head, flashing a big gorgeous grin. His eyes are playful and dance with mirth.“Not that I would mind if it were just you and I this whole semester.“
“uh–“ is embarrassingly, all you say. He isn’t implying anything by that right? Oh god __, don’t be stupid. As you've established, this isn’t a romance novel and you’re most definitely not the main character.
“You seem attentive is what I mean,” the man says, breaking you out of your daze. “And beyond punctual. Two qualities that I hold in high esteem.” You’d say he had a tiny smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth but it was likely an illusion. Your professor has bigger fish to fry than worry about any possible scenarios you’ve concocted in your silly head.
Still, in a moment of sheer thoughtlessness, you say something you regret being unable to retract. “Thank you, I like you too.” As soon as the words fly out you feel the need to run out and bang your head against the wall. Thinking on your feet wasn’t your specialty.
Little to your knowledge, Jungkook finds your mannerisms cute and stifles the temptation to tease. You’re his student, after all, a little professionally please, he repeats to himself.
“So are you from here?” Jungkook asks, choosing to switch the topic before both of you get swallowed into a messy situation.
You shake your head in denial. “I live here temporarily but I grew up about five hours north of here. My parents are still there.”
“Ah, well that’s a bit away. I imagine you miss them?”
You ponder the question for a second, eyes rolling up in contemplation. “From time to time.” Jungkook gives a knowing look. He’s had his share of familial drama and the need for space.
“I understand,” he says. “I grew up ten hours south myself.”
“Wow, that’s…far.” You’re surprised by the distance and can’t imagine it’s an easy commute. You wonder how long he’s been here and more so, if he’s here alone.
“Yeah.” He rests his palms on the edge of the podium, leaning on them gently. The protruding veins in his forearms catch your attention but you pry yourself from lingering. After what you said earlier, the last thing you want is for Dr. Jeon to think you're coming on to him. “Gets a little quiet sometimes but I’ve learned to live with it.”
As if immune to learning from your mistakes you blurt exactly what’s in your head.“So you’re not–“
“Married? Dating? Seeing someone?” Jungkook finishes your sentence like it’s nothing he hasn’t done tenfold times before. “No. I’m not.”
You give a small “Ah,” nodding in understanding before another classmate walks in, putting an abrupt end to the conversation. Jungkook is quick to greet the young man who’s joined but he’s certain he won’t be forgetting your name anytime soon.
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present
You tilt your head back, allowing beads of hot water to run down your bare skin. The sound of steady pattering combined with heavy steam relaxes your muscles.
You can't believe you actually told him.
Blurting out to Jungkook that you wanted a baby in the middle of a fight is not how you intended to open up to your husband. But everything escalated so fast that it just came out.
You think back to last night’s events.
Once the movie's credit scenes appear Jungkook feels your eyes burn through him from your lounged position. "You're making that face again," he says.
"There's no face."
"Look," Jungkook cuts shortly. "Will you just tell me so we can deal with it?!"
"Just deal with it? Like it's some kind of nuisance of an issue that needs treatment?" You jump up from the couch and head to your bedroom in a fury, your husband hot on your trail.
"I don't mean to be pissing you off, sweetheart but I know something's up." He follows you into the bathroom, watching you reach for your toothbrush. "Can you please slow down and talk to me?" He grabs the toothpaste before you can, forcing you to stop in your tracks.
"I–I want…I want to be a mom. I want a baby."
"A baby? What do you mean you want a baby?" You see the panic settling in his eyes. Jungkook takes you into his arms, his thumb wipes off some of your tears. "Honey, I'm sorry I didn't know. When you came home from the park I didn't realize that little boy meant so much to you."
You try blinking back your tears but they keep running down your face. He's being gentle with you and you appreciate that but his choice of words tells you his answer is no. It's quiet, subtle, and cuts like a knife.
You break away from him to splash cold water on your face. The coolness calms your nerves. “He didn’t. Never–never mind what I said, sorry. I’m tired and I’m probably not thinking straight.”
It was a blatant lie but just look at your situation. Married for two years, still on birth control, and had no plans to change that. Suddenly one party diverts from the plan fully aware that the other is perfectly comfortable with the current plan.
Yes, you hoped he'd have a slightly better reaction but you don't blame him for his stunned look.
Plus, did you even have enough time to realize what you were saying? Feeling? It could easily be written off that you were simply impulsive, emotionally vulnerable, and so on with the track record you had regarding kids and parenting.
You sigh, bitter aftertaste in your mouth.
Not much else happened after the fight. Jungkook apologized again with his arms wrapped around your waist. He snuggled his nose in the crook of your neck and kissed your cheek too.
It was the usual, it felt familiar and warm but the pang in your head put a roadblock to that. No marriage is perfect. You know that. But you have a feeling you and Jungkook are headed for a steep valley, both on opposing sides.
"Hi.” You’re taken out of your thoughts when you hear the shower door pop open. Your husband steps in, with messy hair and half-open lids. Evidently, still sleepy.
You spare him a glance and quickly reach for your body wash on the shelf. “Hi,” you reply back, voice monotone.
Jungkook moves closer behind you and curves an arm around you. He grabs the bottle out of your hand and squirts some of the soap into his palm. “How did you sleep?”
A small shiver runs up your spine when his cool hand rubs circles against your upper back and shoulder. It still feels nice, you admit. You see some of the soap drip down and hit the shower floor.
“I slept okay. You?”
“I’m about the same.” Jungkook moves his hand a little lower, making sure to cover your whole backside. “I’m really sorry about how I handled things last night. What I said and how I said it was inexcusable.”
“Please, Jungkook you don’t have to keep apologizing about it. I know…and I’m sorry I spurred it on you so suddenly. It’s not how I wanted you to find out.” if at all, you add to yourself.
“Is it still true?” he asks, stopping his movements. “Do you really want to start a family?”
You feel queasy all over again. His tone is serious and if you turn around you’ll likely see the fire in his eyes. So you remain in your position, facing towards the shower head.
“I don’t know…” you finally say after thirty seconds of eerie silence. “But I think I do, I really do. Seeing our friends and other people our age have kids makes me wonder if we’d ever have that. I can’t explain why right now. I know it’s unexpected after we’ve been living a sort of way for so long.” After another pause you continue. “But I know it’s not a mutual thing and that’s…okay.”
“Sweetheart, even if we were to have kids…where would we find the time? The school year’s starting soon and I’m gonna be running ragged at the university next week. You know my schedule. I teach Monday through Friday, leaving at 7:15 am and returning around 4 p.m. You leave for work a little later in the morning but get back at 5 p.m. All our week consists of will be eating a quick dinner together, then I have to squirrel away to my office for the night to review class notes and grade stacks of assignments.”
Though you’re aware of how crazy busy Jungkook gets during the school year, you’re not foolish enough to believe that is the root of his argument.
“Maybe you’re right that we don’t have much time now but Jungkook, we can figure it out. You only teach 9 months out of the year and I can–I can stay at home or we can hire a nanny. And we don’t have to do it right away but–“
“__.” Jungkook turns you around so you’re looking eye to eye. He hesitates to say his next words, fearing a replay of yesterday. But he can’t bring himself to pretend with you. Not on something this serious. “I understand and I want more than anything to tell you I want the same, but I can't lie to you. Being a father, and having a kid, I think it’s wonderful but I just never saw that for myself. I’m so sorry I–”
Your heart concaves into your chest. You absolutely want him to be honest but it pains you to hear. Where do you go from here?
Slowly, you wrap your arms around his neck. Jungkook jolts a bit, surprised by your sudden gesture but welcomes the embrace.
“It’s okay Jungkook.” You settle your head into his shoulder, simply wanting to be close. One tear spills out, then another. “It’s okay.”
“No, look at me __. You didn’t let me finish.” You lift your head from his shoulder. Jungkook strokes your back soothingly before continuing. “If this is what you want, then I’m not going to stand here and be the asshole husband that just dismisses it. But this is a big step.”
You shake your head in disbelief. “Don’t say what I think you are. Jungkook you don’t have to do anything.”
“I’m not saying I change my mind.” Of course, that would be unrealistic, you talk yourself through, preparing for his next words. “However, I am–I am willing to seriously consider this whole thing, babies, diapers, strollers, all of it. But I need you to be sure that this is what you want. And the only way I think that can happen is if we start this slow. Sounds like I’m making some sappy speech huh?”
Jungkook cracks a faint smile.
You look like you’re waiting for the other shoe to drop or for him to yell psyche and flick your forehead or something.
But none of that happens.
Instead, Jungkook unwraps one of your arms from around your neck, places a light kiss on your knuckles, and stares deep into your eyes as if making a promise. “I know this isn’t exactly heaven to your ears but I’m just trying to say, let’s not rush to a decision yet, okay? All of this did just get revealed yesterday and I think it’d be unfair to both of us if we scurry past it without thinking.”
Shocked. You’re utterly shocked. You were expecting him to give you a flat-out no or attempt to cover up the issue somehow. While, this isn’t your ideal outcome, if Jungkook is willing to take this seriously, no bullshit necessary, then so are you.
“Thank you, Jungkook.” You smile at him, feeling a tad lighter than you did before. Your heart beats again, slow and steady. “I love you.”
“I love you more than anything __. I married you and I intend to keep it that way.” Jungkook sneaks a wink and you press a kiss to his lips.
“Hey,” you pipe up. “It’s Sunday isn’t it?”
Jungkook nods in confusion. “It is..?”
“You have somewhere to be this morning don’t you?” You wait a moment before an oh-shit expression forms on Jungkook’s face.
As you remember your husband was supposed to be at some fancy gold club today. Like Jimin, a certain Kim Taehyung had his weekly “thing” too. Being close friends, Jungkook was supposed to be there, along with Hoseok.
“‘You're so right. 'M sorry honey I gotta go. They’re gonna kill me." Jungkook gives you one last kiss before slipping out of the shower. "I’ll be back for dinner.”
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“Jungkook! Where the fuck have you been? We tried calling you!” Taehyung is the first to speak as soon as he catches sight of the younger man. He has his usual blush pink polo shirt on paired with well-pressed beige shorts.
He looks a little too handsome for golf.
Jungkook’s secretly glad his wife stayed home this time, as he’s fully aware of her mini crush on Taehyung in school. When she first found out they were colleagues he could tell she had borderline stars in her eyes.
“Sorry sorry,” Jungkook says. “I was doing stuff and time escaped me. Plus, I didn’t have my phone near me for a bit. But I’m here now, so let’s get going!” Jungkook walks in front of the two men, heading for the first stage of the golf course. “You guys coming?” He turns around and lifts both arms up.
Taehyung and Hoseok exchange looks before following his lead. It’s unlike Jungkook to be this eager for golf. In fact, he hates golf. And his explanation is a bit…questionable.
As much as Hoseok is a friend, he is also just as much of a psychologist who can't stop himself from practicing his craft when given the chance. “You doing alright?” Hoseok waits for Jungkook to answer, one hand clings around the top of his golf club while the other settles around his hip. "Haven't seen you since Jimin's last dinner.”
"Yeah, I'm good," Jungkook barely replies, watching Taehyung practice and few swings before taking the shot. Like a prodigy, it sinks right in. "Hole in one again man? I thought you painted."
Taehyung glances over his shoulder with a smug expression, cocky smirk, and sunglasses behind his head. "Don't be too jealous of hyung, Jungkookie."
"Fuck off Tae," Jungkook quips back. "I'm not 22 anymore. I have a good job, nice house, and a gorgeous wife waiting for me at home. What do you have? A bunch of golf balls in your pants.”
Hmm, a little more defensive than usual, Hoseok notes. And guarded too, something’s up.
"About that wife of yours Kook," Hoseok drawls. "How she doing?" Jungkook turns towards the man, slight distaste on his face.
“Uh, she’s fine. Thanks for asking. Also, I know what you’re doing and I’m not in the mood.”
"Ah Jungkook, you act like I'm being so malicious.” Smiling, Hoseok continues. “Can't I care about my friend of ten years without such accusations?"
Jungkook sighs and kicks the grass. Hoseok has been one of his closest friends for a long time so if there's anyone worth talking to about his current situation and who'd understand, I'd be him. "Well, I’m not saying much right now but.....__ recently told me she wants a baby. I’m still–I'm having trouble processing it. But I’m trying.”
Hoseok throws a hand behind the younger's shoulder. “That’s big news Jungkook and it’s completely fine that you’re still working through it. Don’t feel like you have to speed up the process either. I’ve known you both long enough to know that parenting hasn’t really been in the cards until now so I’m surprised myself.”
“I think she’s still a little unsure, but something happened the other day and it struck a cord inside her. She wants a family and,” Jungkook steps to the side, and Hoseok's hand slips from his shoulder. “I wish I could tell her I want it too. But I can't lie to her like that. I also don’t want her to bury that desire for my sake, so I told her we could consider it. I don’t know man, I feel like I’m trying to do the right thing but I don’t know if I can do this. Will I ever change my mind? I want to, for her.”
Hoseok looks at his friend with soft eyes, compassion in them. “Unfortunately, this is not something you can foresee nor force. At least not this early. But you’re definitely doing the right thing by not brushing her off. As real as your feelings are about not wanting a child right now, so are __'s feelings. It’s best you listen to both sides.”
Jungkook tousles his hair around. “I just–fuck.”
Hoseok doesn’t need further explanation to understand Jungkook’s predicament. He’s frustrated, blames himself, and is struggling to come to terms with reality. The unknown scares him and he doesn’t want to lose control of what little he has. “I’m sorry, Kook…it’s a heavy load. Why don't you come in for a session sometime? I think this might be something worth talking through."
“You mean therapy? I don't know, I’m about to have a pretty tight with school starting.”
"One hour, forty minutes at least," Hoseok insists. "Why not try it once and if you don't like it, you don't have to do it again. I love you both and as a friend, I want to be here for you. Beats standing around and watching Taehyung kick our ass at golf. Just think about it and let me know. As I said, I'm always here for you bro."
Jungkook nods and reaches a hand out to gently squeeze Hoseok's shoulder. "I'll think about it. Thanks."
"Hey!" Taehyung waves from afar. "What you guys doing still up there? I’ve been waiting for twenty minutes! Don’t forget that last place buys lunch.”
“He’s referring to you Kook.” Hoseok chuckles, slaps Jungkook on the back, and walks down the golf course toward Taehyung. “You suck at golf.”
Jungkook grunts, following close behind. If this were a benching competition he’d be taking home the whole damn meal.
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With Jungkook still gone doing who knows what with his buddies you decide to blast your very wide array of music. It’s a good thing you and Jungkook live in your own house or else your poor neighbors would be knocking down the door with the landlord by now. Yes, that may or may not have happened once with you were in college.
Along with the music you stick true to your character and spread your art supplies on your drawing table. You had your own mini studio, thanks to your wonderful relator who helped find you the house. You reach for a pencil, spinning it between your fingers. Maybe you should finish the drawing of the park’s pond.
Mm, you don’t really feel like packing all your supplies and driving over right now.
Deciding to save it for another day, you ponder ideas of what to do instead. Should you try out your new watercolors? You bought them last week and while you weren’t exactly in low supply, if your husband can have a hundred scented candles you can have your paints.
bling–
You snatch your phone hearing the notification bell.
Jungkook: the rest of your morning going well? [sent at 11:03 a.m]
You smile faintly and type out a reply. Sweet to check in you suppose.
__: Fine. How are the guys? [sent at 11:04 a.m]
Jungkook: Whooping my ass but it’s alright. [sent at 11:07 a.m]
Good, you smirk. Jungkook is awful at golf. And he can stand to lose at something like the rest of you.
__: When are you coming home? [sent at 11:10 a.m]
Jungkook: Looking to wrap things up around 4 pm. I think we’re having a late lunch. Miss you. [sent at 11:13 a.m]
__: Okay, sounds good because I was thinking maybe we could go for ice cream when you get back. After dinner? miss you too [sent at 11:14 a.m]
You stare at the screen, waiting for a reply.
One minute goes by…
Two minutes…
Three…
Jungkook: Okay, sounds amazing. But why not before dinner? The place we like closes early on Sundays. I love you! [sent at 11:17 a.m]
Oh shoot, that’s right. You and Junkook have gone to the same ice cream shake since you first started dating. The couple who run it are super sweet, only a decade older. How could you forget?
__: I’m a dummy, yes we’ll go before dinner. I love you too [sent at 11:18 a.m]
Jungkook: Noo, you’re not a dummy! But okay, I’ll see you soon! [sent at 11:19 a.m]
Rejuvenated, you turn off your phone, jump off your art stool and crank the current song up–Runaway by Bon Jovi. Let’s see, you think, tearing a piece of watercolor paper from your drawing pad, what to do.
When the idea strikes you prepare water, paintbrushes, your palette, and anything else you may need for the next five hours give or take. You snatch your phone again and scroll through your photo gallery, hoping to get a good reference photo.
Your best friend’s birthday was two weeks away and she’s been subtly hinting for a painting of her, her fiancee’, and her dog Bear. As her closest friend and well-practiced artist, you think it is best to appease her request.
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Jungkook comes home at 4 pm on the dot. Not a minute later. He looks happy, you conclude. Genuinely happy. It looks good on him.
“__!” Jungkook runs through the front door and lifts you up in his arms. He spins you around and you place your hands on his shoulders. This is so unexpected but nice.
“Jungkook,” you struggle to catch your breath. “What’s going on?”
“I just love coming home to you.” He places you back down and grabs your wrist. “Come on, I wanna stuff you full with ice cream.”
“That sounds so weird,” you laugh.
“Why?” Jungkook opens the front door, ushering you to go ahead of him.
“Because…it sounds like you want to stuff me. Like in a weird way.”
“Woman, that cleared nothing up for me.” You hop into the car with stupid grins on your face. You don’t even know what you mean let alone having to explain to your husband. What can you say, Jungkook makes you a little braindead.
“I just mean that you wanting to stuff me with ice cream sounds like the witch from Hanzel and Gretel. You wanna fatten me up to eat me. Or taxidermy,….or Build a Bear.”
“What the fuck honey,” Jungkook curses, backing out of your drive. “Did you get into something funky while I was gone?”
“No what–ugh never mind.” You stare out the window, arms crossed and biting back the need to giggle uncontrollably. Why were you so giddy right now?
Jungkook glances over with amusement. He knows you’re inches away from balling over with laughter. “You know what honey?”
“Hmm?”
“I think instead of stuffing you full of ice cream, I’m gonna stuff you full with something just as good.”
“Don’t say it Kook, don’t. I’m going to bust a gut.” You beg fully aware he’s not about to back down.
“My fucking cawk,” he says, making sure to exaggerate the last part.
You throw a hand over your mouth, tears well up in your eyes and this time, they’re not sad ones.
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You pull up at the small, but charming ice cream stand at around 4:20 pm. It’s a decent crowd tonight.
You and Jungkook get out of the car with laced hands. You’ve managed to calm down now, thankfully. As you make your way to the line a small voice catches both your attention.
“Appa!” A little girl with blue ribbons in her hair runs past you. She looks between eight to ten years old. You and Jungkook follow her movement as she leaps up into her father’s arms.
You smile at the interaction. Her father kisses her cheek and chuckles as she shows him her ribbons. She looks like she’s telling a very eventful story.
Beside you, Jungkook stiffens. His eyes set on the pair but you’re unsure what he’s thinking. “Kook?” you say, but he doesn’t respond. You shake his hand, the one laced in yours, but still no response. It’s when you step in front of his view that you get him back.
“Hey,” you say. “Are you okay?”
Jungkook blinks at you and shakes his head a bit. “I’m good, sorry. Not sure what happened there. Must be a bit out of it today. Let’s go get some ice cream.”
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A/N: I like this series vv much...thank you to anyone reading :) Lmk your thoughts and if you wanna be tagged comment or send me an ask!
Taglist:
@frieschan @oldermenluverrr @tatamicc @kookswifesblog @llallaaa @sunnybyeol @namtaeh @exactlygreatcoffee @whipwhoops @yoongisducky @ktnj91 @junecat18 @thvlover7 @yoongiworshiper
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no reposting, copying, or translating my work– © kookslastbutton
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munsonsmixtapes · 2 months
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Saw you had requests! And this may be a trigger warning but it’s a fix I’ve thought about for months.
Eddie, bestie female reader. You are newer to Hawkins and go to a party with Eddie robin and Steve. Not big into drugs or drinking to stick with punch.
While Eddie is off making some money you’re not paying attention to your cup. And someone slips in something.
Soon you start to feel weird… and scared. Someone finds Eddie who is by your side in a second. Friends freak out your crying and scared possible culprit is found and Eddie wants to kick his ass but he is taking care of you. And then from there where ever you think it could lead? Ed’s taking you home but staying and helping you through your high/trip so sweet doesn’t even need to be secretly in love or it could be but nothing happens because… well after a scary thing like that… no thanks.
Idk it’s been stuck in my head and again don’t write if you’re not comfortable.
Im not going to anon because I’m afraid I may miss if you do write. But again if not that’s totally okay!
Hey, thanks so much for your request!
Word count: 1,723
CW: reader gets roofied, let me know if there’s anything I missed!
Eddie x bestie!fem!reader
You looked around Steve’s house which was filled a bunch of people you didn’t know. You hadn’t really liked parties, but Eddie had begged you to go and you found yourself unable to say no to him. He was just so cool and pretty that you wanted to do whatever he asked when he flashed you those doe brown eyes.
You were still new to town and in no position to pass up friends so that meant hanging around people you didn’t like just so full your social circles. People like Brad were who you despised the most. He had been trying to sleep with you for months only to be met by rejection. He wouldn’t take no for an answer, approaching you every chance he got and that night hadn’t been an exception.
“Hey,” he smiled, leaning over the back of the couch. Eddie was always quick to jump to your defense, but of course he was nowhere to be found, taking an opportunity to sell, it being a huge party and all.
You ignored him, looking down at the red plastic cup in your hand. Eddie had given you some punch that had just been a bunch of different types of alcohol mixed with some juice. You didn’t drink much so it was perfect, the juice completely covering up the bitter alcohol taste that you weren’t a fan of.
You thought that not speaking to Brad would help him get the hint, but that only made him speak again. He took your silence as playing hard to get and goddamn was he determined to get you.
To Brad, you were just another body to use. He loved that you were innocent, having never slept with anyone. He just wanted to add yet another notch to his bedpost, wanting your name to be on the list of virgins he had fucked.
You had felt bad for the girls who had been desperate enough to sleep with Brad and you definitely weren’t going to be one of them. He was gross and you had eyes for only one man. That man being nowhere to be found when you needed him.
You hadn’t been paying attention and Brad had slipped something into your drink, quickly moving away before anyone could catch him. If you wouldn’t say yes, he was going to take matters into his own hands.
But Robin had caught him and hurried over to you to stop you from drinking the now contaminated juice. You had already taken a sip before she was able to get to you. She watched in horror as you swallowed the liquid and quickly took the cup from you. She pulled you in the kitchen to keep an eye on you and poured the juice down the sink.
She then grabbed onto Steve who just so happened to also be in the kitchen and turned him around to face her, panic in her eyes.
“Hey, what’s going on?” He could see the look on her face and started to worry. Robin was known to freak out on a regular basis, but this was different. He could feel it. Something was wrong.
“Y/n was roofied.” He felt his knees go weak at her words and looked at you for any signs of sickness, but you seemed fine. It was only a matter of time before the symptoms took over.
“I’m gonna go get Eddie. Take her to your room,” she told him, looking around the house for the curly head of hair.
Robin was quick to run from the kitchen, pushing through all of the partygoers to find the metal head. She didn’t have much time and it didn’t help that Steve’s house was packed and there was no trace of Eddie anywhere.
Steve took you to his room so you could have some quiet. You already felt dizzy, having trouble walking, feeling like the place was spinning. Everything was distorted and didn’t look right.
You continued you to try to walk but fell to the floor, the drugs in your system quickly taking over. You fell face first in the foyer and people were quick to part like the Red Sea as you laid there in the middle of them.
Everyone just stared at you while Steve was picked. He looked down at your face to see that your nose was red from where it hit the floor. He carried you up the stairs and to his room, hoping that Eddie was going to be there soon. You were fading fast and you looked so scared, it was terrifying to him. He didn’t know you as well as Eddie, but you were his friend and he hated seeing you like that. So scared and helpless.
Steve opened the door and closed it behind him with his foot before carefully laying you on his bed. His heart was racing and he was wondering where the fuck Eddie was. It didn’t take long to get to his room no matter when in the house you were coming from.
Steve sat you up against his headboard, making sure you didn’t fall asleep. He laid next to you awkwardly, not taking his eyes off of you.
“I need Eddie,” you slurred. Steve wanted Eddie too. He was the only one who always knew what you needed. Steve was going to try his best, but he was terrified for you. He couldn’t imagine going through something so scary.
“Eddie’s coming sweetheart. He’ll be here in a second.” Steve wasn’t sure how sure his statement was true, but he was going to believe it anyway.
The door burst open and Eddie and Robin rushed into the room. She sat on the bed next to Steve while Eddie made a beeline for you. He took you into his arms and the two of you slowly lowered yourselves to the floor. You cried into his chest and he let you, knowing how scared you were. You needed to let it out and he was going to let you talk about it if you wanted to.
Robin and Steve made themselves scarce, wanting to give to two of you some space. Eddie pulled you onto the bed and you cuddled up into his side, feeling nothing but dizzy. Everything was doubled and you had to close your eyes so it would go away, but it didn’t. It only got worse when you closed your eyes.
“I’m so fucking sorry, sweetheart. I should have been there with you.” Eddie was going to blame himself for the rest of his life. Sure, if he had been with you, you wouldn’t have been drugged, but it wasn’t his fault. It was just horrible incident and the only person to blame was Brad.
“Eddie, it’s okay,” you slurred. “It’s not your fault. It’s mine. I should’ve been paying more attention.” He was getting angry that you were blaming yourself. It wasn’t your fault at all. You should have been able to have a drink without worrying whether there were drugs in it or not.
“No,” he said a bit too harshly, sitting up he so could look you in the eyes. “None of this is your fault, y/n. It’s Brad’s.”
“Exactly,” you opened your eyes. “So you shouldn’t be blaming yourself. You should be allowed to leave me for a few minutes without worrying about me.”
“I always worry about you. You’re my best friend. That’s my job. And I didn’t do my job for one night and something horrifying happened to you, y/n. You were assaulted.” That word made it sound so much worse. You knew that was what happened to you, but didn’t really have time to think about it until Eddie had said it.
Just because Brad hadn’t done anything to you physically didn’t mean that you weren’t a victim. Eddie wanted you to know the severity of what had happened and wanted to you to know that you had every right to feel scared.
You fell silent after that, the words heavy between the two of you. Your heart rate quickened as everything set it. You didn’t want to believe it, very much in denial of the severity of the situation. In your mind, if you didn’t acknowledge it, it wasn’t actually happening.
You slowly drifted to sleep and Eddie kept an eye on you to make sure you were okay. He felt sick seeing you like that. You hadn’t been acting like yourself and even after your discussion, he was still blaming himself for what had happened to you. He’d get over it eventually, but for now, he was going to let himself drown in his guilt.
You woke up the next morning from the sun shining through the window. You felt so much better, but you were still a little groggy. You sat up and panicked when Eddie wasn’t by your side but let out a sigh of relief when you saw him sitting at Steve’s desk. He had some toilet paper in his nose and a bag of frozen peas was sitting onto top of one of his hands, his other hand of top of the bag.
He smiled when he looked at you and you returned it, his smile always infections. You eyed the peas once more and wondered what had happened while you were asleep. It seemed like Eddie was always up to trouble.
“What did you do this time?”
“I punched Brad.” He said the words so proudly and for once, you didn’t feel like scolding him. If anyone deserved to have the shit punched out of them, it was him. He deserved a lot more, but you were going to take what you could get as far as his ass kickings went.
“Steve helped. We went to his house this morning and taught him a lesson about dragging women before calling the cops. They arrested him an hour later so he’s definitely not to be bothering you anymore.”
You didn’t think anyone had done something so nice for you. Unbeknownst to you, Eddie would have done anything for you. He would have even left Brad alone if you asked.
“You didn’t have to do that.” You walked over to him and planted yourself in his lap. He wasn’t caught off guard at first, but arm quickly wrapped around your waist while you rested your head on his shoulder.
“I know,” he nodded. “But I wanted to. And that was the least that fucking dick deserved.” It was true, and even though you would probably never to get over what had happened to you, knowing that Brad was behind bars made you feel a whole lot better.
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teyamsatan · 1 year
Note
Hii idk if you take requests rn but if you do can you please write something where you are showing Neteyam music videos from earth on a tv in the lab and when your celebrity crush appeared you said « he so hot » forgetting that Neteyam was there and he fuck us bc he is jealous (like he didn’t know what your type in human were so he is possessive) 😩😩😩
IS IT TIME FOR JEALOUS NETEYAM PART 2? I THINK IT IS BESTIES!
this got away from me, the horny is taking me over once more (she says on a daily basis) also it's 12am and i'm too tired to proofread so if you see any mistakes, pretend to be shocked when they disappear tomorrow morning and don't judge me too harshly okkk?? xxx
i hope you enjoy besties x smooches
wc: 2k words
warnings: aged-up!neteyam, female human!reader, jealousy trope, smut (fingering, edging), strong language, cursing, kinda mean!neteyam, praise kink, small degradation kink, i guess that's all light day for me
na'vi compendium: tewng - loincloth, tiyawn - love
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As a human living on Pandora, your life was never boring. Anything that the Na’vi would ever find mundane or ordinary, anything that humans on Earth might think is just another thing in a vast array of distractions always present in their day to day lives, to you, it was all new. Everything was just another opportunity to learn and grow, to experience life in a way that you weren’t quite made for, but that was full of lessons, surprises, full of excitement and adventure, full of… entertainment. 
That's all it was. A... lesson. It was important for you to understand where you came from, or more accurately, where your parents came from, and that included looking at videos of what they considered art. And boy, was it art, alright!
A video that you've now memorised by heart was playing in one of the recreation rooms, because seeing it on a small screen just wasn't quite enough. The beautiful music video featured incredible vistas of Earth like you've never quite seen it before, a choreography that highlighted just how fluid and dynamic humans could actually be when trying, a symphony of voices blending together beautifully, lyrics that melted your heart, and the most beautiful human men you have ever laid your eyes on, and you were almost upset that that what was what was missing from Pandora, and instead was all you got was old scientists who even at the best of times were not quite the same... sight.
It pained Neteyam to admit that when you asked him to come and hang around the labs, something he didn't like doing in the best of circumstances (but always did because of you), he definitely didn't expect this. He didn't quite understand the feelings plaguing him, feelings that never tried him before, as he watched your face, completely entranced and mesmerised, looking at the big screen where human men were singing and dancing in a way he found silly, but to his massive shock - you didn't. You and Neteyam shared an opinion on most things, have done since you were but children, growing up together in this world that scared you both, but that you braved together. So why was it now that this was changed this little fact that he was so fond of, that he held on for dear life, that he cherished with everything he had?
Is this what he was feeling? Sadness? No... it didn't quite feel like sadness. The twitching in his eye and the way his hands balled up in a tight fist is not what he associated with feeling down. Anger? Neteyam didn't get angry too often, but the times he did, it felt hot, like burning embers pushed down his throat. So not quite anger, either. It felt... bitter, like a poisoned fruit. His stomach tightened at the way you were almost drooling over these men that you didn't know, that were just like you, and nothing like Neteyam. Is this what you wanted? Is that who you craved? A human, someone whose hands fit in yours perfectly and whose body was made to hold your own without towering over you?
Neteyam felt the ugly feeling surge through his veins until it was like iced-water replaced all his blood, and he suddenly recognised the feeling from a distant memory of the past, one he shared with his dad.
"Jealousy, son, is like... a wave, that comes and goes, and can ripple over your feet or can drown you in sorrow, and anger and pain. It's watching someone get something you want, it's feeling a precious thing slip through your fingers, no matter how hard you try to hold on to it. It's cold and powerful, it's the ugliest of emotions, and it's inevitable. Just don't let it consume you."
"Hey! I was watching that!" You screamed in Neteyam's direction in an attempt to understand what just happened, why he took the remote away from you and turned off the projector, leaving you a confused and dazed mess. Your already struggling mind got even more scrambled, as your friend placed a large hand on your chest, pushing you to the ground and getting on top of you, hovering until your faces were so close, they were almost touching, until his breath was warm and musky and deepening the quiet, steady haze overtaking you. Your eyes widened taking him in, flared nose and deep frown marring his beautiful face, but nothing held a candle to his own eyes, yellow orbs of molten gold, so precious and unique to you, so, so beautiful and right now, almost swallowed by his black irises that were more dilated that you've ever seen them before.
"Neteyam... what are you doing?"
"Why am I here, huh? Why did you ask me to come, so I can watch you drool over human men? So I can see how much you want them?"
"What are you talk-"
His words confounded you, almost as much as his tone did. He sounded... jealous. He couldn't be. Right? You and Neteyam were just friends... just friends. Sure, you've shared a few drunken kissess and flirty comments throughout your life, and you've found yourself catching him looking at you in a way that indicated something... more, but he was Neteyam. Neteyam, the prince of the Omaticaya. Neteyam, the future Olo'eyktan. Neteyam, the most intelligent, caring, kind, compassionate, beautiful, sexy man you've ever seen... and a Na'vi. He had a line of women at his beck and call, so in time, you've come to terms with the fact he would never look at you, merely a measly human, and why should he? There was so much separating you, so much you'd never be able to overcome. And yet still, here he was, eyeing you like he hungered for you, like he ached for you, and your core throbbed at the view, a soft moan barely contained as you felt his twitching cock brush against your thigh.
"Is this what you want, what you crave, friend? All this fucking time, I thought there was a chance you might want me, the way I want you, the way I need you. And turns out I never stood a fucking chance, huh?"
"Neteyam, no, I -"
"What, what do you have to say for yourself?"
His hand was tracing your body softly, inching from your neck and collarbone, down your chest and waist, ghosting over your hips, until he found your shorts, clinging to your body in a way that drove him crazy, that let little to the imagination, that made him wants to explore every inch of you with his fingers, and his tongue.
"Is this for them?" when his hand slipped in between your thighs, feeling the wet patch that formed there in the short time he was on top of you, you pushed them instinctively together, trapping his fingers as they started to move, the moan unable to remain trapped inside of you anymore. The shake of your head was so aggressive it gave you whiplash, but you wanted him to know, needed him to know that it was him, only him, always him.
"No, Netey-, fuck! No, it's for you!"
The growl that escaped him made your heart still in your chest, the raw, powerful emotion something you have never seen in Neteyam, who was always a calming, tame presence in your life. It took him no time at all to remove the shorts that he's dreamt of seeing around your ankles for so long, a reality that he would cherish later, once his mind was no longer poisoned by the bitter hold of jealousy.
"You're lying. I saw the way you're watching them, I saw the look in your eyes. You just want a little human man your own size, huh?"
He takes a second, just a second to admire your body, that he's seen in all his filthiest, most beautiful dreams as it welcomed him, spread for him, bent for him, arched for him, but nothing, not even the absolute best of them, compared to the sight that would be forever tattooed in his brain from this point on. Your disheveled face, parted lips and blushing cheeks, messy hair as you were sprawled on the floor, looking at him with blown up pupils through your long lashes, your chest heaving up and down, nipples poking through your tank top... it all drove him fucking crazy. He wanted nothing more than to fuck you, long and hard, and show you that you deserved better than a human, that he can make you come in ways you haven't even imagined before.
"I'm not lying, Neteyam. I never thought you'd ever want me, so I moved on. But I need you, I want you, please. Only you. Only you, please."
His cock twitched and hardened even more at your words, more than he ever thought was fucking possible, and it hurt, the strain caused by his tightened tewng, the desire to fill you up more overwhelming by the second.
"Is that so, baby girl? You want me to fuck you?" his hand pushes your lace panties to the side, smirking at how drenched they were, and his breath hitches in his throat at the way your swollen folds glistened with slick, at the way your smell inundated his senses and pushed him to a primal state, in which nothing else in this world existed but you, and the desire to fill you up with him cum and watch as it dripped out of your small, perfect cunt.
"Yes! Yes, please!"
"Have you been good enough to deserve to be fucked, pretty girl? Is this what you think good girls do? Acting like a little slut, salivating over men that could never satisfy you?"
You whimper as his pushes two fingers in you, curling them so they drag against the spongy part in your core in a way that makes you squirm under him. The stretch is just enough to feel pressure building in you, not enough to reach the height in needed to be released, and you start grinding, fucking yourself on his fingers, hoping to get yourself there, hoping to reach the orgasm you needed more desperately with every passing second. Your actions anger him, as he pulls his fingers out swiftly and straddles you once more, a dangerous glimmer in his eyes that felt like no light could escape from.
"Answer me."
"I-I'm sorry. It won't happen again."
"That's right, baby girl. And why is that?"
"Because I'm yours. I'm all yours."
"Fuck, that's right, baby. You're mine. All fucking mine."
"Open your mouth for me." You do as you're told, and watch as he brings his fingers to your lips and pushes past them, until your mouth is coated in your slick, and you close your lips around them, swirling your tongue on and in between them, until you gather every last drop. He groans a wild, erotic groan, feeling the way your clean yourself off of him dutifully, and he lets his mind fantasise about the day you'll be chocking on his cock, your beautiful eyes drowned in tears as the girth becomes too much to handle, drops falling down your face as you try to take more of him, your tongue flat against him as he thrusts in and out of your mouth, as he comes down your throat. He slowly removes his fingers, even as you cling on, and they come out with a pop, and you smile at the sound, teeth finding your bottom lip as they sink into it, trying to suppress the smirk threatening to form on your lips.
"Such a filthy girl. Gonna make you feel so good, baby. Gonna show you why I'm the only one for you."
"You took my fingers so well, tiyawn. Now let's see how well you take my cock."
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taglist: @fanboyluvr @theycallmesia @yagirlheree
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bitchlessdino · 1 year
Note
chan- your personal knight/guard. been by your side since what feels like practically forever and has protected you against pretty much everything. You both are close but despite knowing him for so many years and being so close you realise you don’t actually know that much about him so on a walk maybe you’re just asking him random questions about him and learning more about him as a person. Somehow the conversations moved from something like his favourite colour to why he’s not settled down and without missing a beat he’s already answered because of you. Queue a love confession from your knight/guard that you reciprocate.
On a regular basis struggling with cheol and chan rot but today felt fluffy- idk i just think chan would be so sweet as your guard like him being super protective like ‘don’t pick that flower it might be poisonous let me check it’ and it’s like a dandelion or somet 😭
anyways just wanted to leave this with you and express how much I love your work!! I hope you have a good rest of your day or evening and genuinely thank you for taking the time to write on here, i truly appreciate the fact you take time out of your own day to read peoples requests and write whatever comes to mind <33
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Pairing: royal!reader x bodyguard!chan
Genre: fluff
Word count: 3.1k
tags: royal au, overprotective chan, yearning, childhood au, love confessions, misunderstandings
author note: I forget how much fun fluff can be and I thought this concept was so cute also to the person requesting. I hope you like it. I love taking requests, including this one and i apprecate your kind words so much. we could all use your positivity. 💕
You remember when you first met Chan. He was the son of the Head of security that would tend to your father's every public and private safety. In a land ruled by a monarchy, these things were just necessary. You’ve been taught about the value you hold simply because of your bloodline and how you were the most precious there is, you must be protected and guarded at all costs. That’s where Chan came in.
He always claimed to be destined to take on a job much like his father, promising to protect you until the end of your days. That was a huge proclamation for an 8-year-old. He carried a wooden sword wherever he went and always had that big goofy smile on his face. It was his life goal to be strong and dependable like his father, and you believed he one day would.
That was the first and last time you saw him until he was officially appointed your personal bodyguard when he turned 18 years old. You were taking etiquette classes and studying scholarly journals of your country’s history, he trained day and night, mastering every possible martial art to exceed expectations as a protector. He was much different when he returned to you, and much stronger as well. He did not disappoint, but the light in his eyes as a child seemed to have faded, leaving a solemn shell of a man who lives to serve his master.
“Chan!”
He responds promptly. He stands by your side in an instant in proper attire, fit for both professional settings and in case he needs to be active, and meets your eyes. “Yes, your highness.”
“Bake with me.”
He blinks, “Your Highness. Would you not rather have the chefs bake something for you if sweets are what you desire?”
You stare back at him pointedly, crossing your arms, “Are you talking back to me?”
His gaze perks up at the accusation, immediately shaking his head, “No, your high—“
You laugh, doubling over at his panicked expression. “Just kidding. I wanted us to bond! No better bonding than creating delectable pastries. No objections.”
“Yes, your highness.”
He was there whenever you needed him. He never told you ‘no’ and he always did what you told him to. All done with a stone face. He took his duty seriously. He was far from who he used to be, which was probably a given, it had been around a decade. That’s when you executed a plan of action to peel away those layers, hoping to find the cute boy that childishly wanted to blindly protect you. 
It was over time you saw progress, seeing him smile at every comment or the little mistakes you couldn’t help but make (you swear to him you’re normally more graceful than that) when he thinks you aren’t looking. You loved that: making him laugh. He has a beautiful smile. And the more you spent time with him, the more it feels he knows you, even bringing things you need without you even having to ask, but what was it you know about him?
“Chan.”
Right on the dot as always. “Yes, your highness.”
“Walk around the garden with me.” You take his hand before he can even answer and had him trodding beside you out of the palace.
“Please slow down, your highness.”
You practically dragged him, it was necessary given the Palace’s size.
“There is very little daylight left. We must make the most of our day. This is a royal order!” You playfully command.
“It is 3 pm, your highness!”
“Royal order!”
You walk side by side with him taking in the air, the freshly cut grass, and hearing the birds sing their sweet melody. Calling it a beautiful afternoon was an understatement. Even after living in the place you call home for so long, there is more that surprises you. “Doesn’t the sky look extra blue today, Chan?”
He softly grins. “It does, your highness.”
You turn your head, watching the smile slip out of view, “Speaking of which, what is your favorite color, Chan?”
He thinks for a moment. “Blue, actually, your highness.”
You offer him a wide grin. “That suits you very well. I’m glad I know that. How was it that you’ve protected me for so long and I never knew that?”
Chan is quiet at that, not sure how to answer.
“My favorite color is green, or was it purple?” You cross your arms in thought, a single finger tapping against your cheek, “Last week it was pink.”
“It should be yellow, your highness. You decided to wear the yellow two-piece today.”
You look down at your attire and confirm his statement, seeing the pretty outfit you properly picked out the day before with Chan. You twirl, watching how the sun reflects off the expensive fabric, “You’re right. Looks like you know me better than I know myself again, but of course.”
His eyes fill with concern. “Does that make you uncomfortable, your highness?”
“No. Not necessarily. It just feels very one-sided. You know so much about me, but I feel like I know so little about you.” You skip ahead of him and you hear his footsteps catching up.
“I apologize, your highness. I never believed it was necessary information.”
“Of course, it is. How am I supposed to trust you if I know nothing about you?” You pointed out nonchalantly.
“I apologize again, your highness. This was careless of me.”
You turn around and let him stand beside him and push him ahead, “Nevermind that. What’s your favorite food?”
He stumbles slightly but does not let the matter phase him, used to you treating him much like a companion rather than the help, “Barbeque.”
“Favorite animal?”
“Otters.”
“Favorite ice cream flavor?”
“Chocolate.”
“Least favorite thing about me?”
“Nothing.”
“Ah ha–oh.” You tilt your head. “Nothing? Seriously?”
“There is nothing to dislike, your highness, and even if there was, I could not speak out on it. However, there isn’t.”
You blink back at him dubiously, an aggressive finger pointing at his chest, “Are you lying, Chan?”
“Not at all, your highness.”
He would have no reason to lie, you thought. And like he said, if he did, he much rather not answer. You stare at him for a little longer, scanning his frame before simply shrugging and continuing your leisure stroll.
“Hmm, alright. Favorite genre of music?”
“...girl group pop.”
Your eyes widen at that, smiling from ear to ear. “No way! Which group?”
The tips of his ears cause a hue of red, spreading all across his cheeks in an instant. “Apink…”
“Ooo, how refreshing. I would’ve never guessed.”
Chan was relieved to hear such a positive and encouraging response, feeling his hairs falter just a little bit, quite enjoying your company. “It’s very encouraging when I train. They lift my spirits.”
You chortle. “That’s quite endearing of you, Chan. I feel like I’m knowing you way better already.”
“That’s a relief, your highness.”
“What else do you like to do in your free time? You spend most of the day with me, even tend to events with me, but I have no idea what you do for fun?”
He was drawing a blank. What did he do worth mentioning? “Mmm, lots of activities. Such as…”
“Such as?” You egg on.
“Such as–-horseback riding, jousting, martial arts–”
You wave the list off. “Save the pleasantries. I mean real hobbies, ones not instilled by the palace. Things that are actually fun.”
“They are fun, you highness…But I guess I do like dancing.”
You perk up once more, strutting backward to talk while facing him, “Dancing? How lovely! You must show me how you move. This instant!”
He grows flustered, knowing they were still very close to the other guards and staff in the palace. He wasn’t sure he felt about showing off his moves this publicly. “Another time, your highness. I feel rather shy at the moment.”
“Oh, but you must, you must! What do you do? Ballroom? Contemporary? Interpretive–Wha!” You feel yourself trip over a rock, falling backward in slow motion, shutting your eyes for impact, until a strong pair of arms prevent you from collapsing.
“Your highness, are you alright?”
Feeling him pull you against his chest, you stare back into the eyes of your savior. His genuine fright and concern peek through his gaze and he grips your build extra firmly. He instinctively frowns, lips quivering anxiously, sweeping your stray hairs away from your face. You naturally melt in his embrace.
You nod, sighing a breath of relief. “I am fine, Chan. Thank you.”
“Who knows what you could’ve landed on.” His gaze scans over the bed of flowers behind you, vibrant and vivacious, “they could be poisonous for all we know.”
You allow yourself to land back on your feet, turning your gaze on the same bed of flowers. “Those are dandelions.”
Chan feels redder than a tomato in August. How is he constantly embarrassing himself, he thought to himself. “Oh. Well, better safe than sorry. Your Highness.”
You chuckle, infatuated by his thought process. “You truly are something, Lee Chan. Your significant other does not have a boring life with you around.”
“I don’t have a significant other, your highness.” 
“That's strange. I’d say you’re at the age to be married or betrothed. Why aren’t you?” You mention, decidedly walking side by side with him.
“Why, my work is the most important thing in my life. I do not have the time to commit myself to someone other than the royal family.”
You raise a brow, “Your father was married and had two kids by your age. If he could do it, I don’t see how you couldn’t.”
“Now, you’re sounding like my mother,” he jokes.
“She is a wise woman.”
He splays a bittersweet smile. “If I’m being honest, I’ve been given a few opportunities, but I don’t believe they can take the place of the person I hold in my heart. No one will.”
You clap your hands together in excitement. “So you are interested in dating? Tell, good sir. Who is the lucky lad or lass?”
“Someone far worthy than I’ll ever be and deserves more than what I can give them.”
You slightly shove him, finding such an assumption doubtful. “Oh please. You’re strong, you’re kind, you’re handsome…anyone would absolutely be ecstatic to have you.”
Chan felt warm all over, taking your words into careful consideration, “Do you truly mean that, your highness?”
“Are you doubting a royal?” You chuckle, “I do. Tell them. I am sure they would happily return your feelings.”
He halts his steps, and you quickly follow, curious about his abrupt actions, “...You ask me why I am still unwedded and untaken. How would you feel if I said you were the reason?”
“No excuses. You can’t use work as an excuse for your lack of love life.” You wag a finger at him.
“Not like that,” He takes your hand in his, bringing it up in mid-air, thumbing over the pristine skin of your knuckles, “How would you feel if I admitted the person I hold dearest to my heart is you, your Highness?”
A gust of wind takes you by surprise, the fallen flowers and leave being picked up with it and fall around you like a picture-esque scene in a movie. Your heart pounds a million times a minute, staring back in awe at his presence, overflowing with love and sincerity, and your eyes flutter from the breathlessness you feel in your chest and throat. You stare at Chan like the first time you were reunited with him, with pure unadulterated infatuation.
“Me, you say? Well, I’d say I was surprised, flabbergasted,…flattered.”
You feel the heat of your cheeks from the back of your free hand. “And inexplicably flustered.”
You release your hand from his grasp, the lingering sensation of his hand on your skin causing you to clench and release, and your heart easily audibly through your eardrums. You look towards the ground, finding it hard to meet your guard’s eyes. “Your choice of humor is rather brass.”
“Your highness–”
“It’s supper time. I must get going. I will see you back at the palace, Chan.”
You make your grand escape, clutching your frills, shielding your face from others in the palace with your arm before heading u to your room. You collapse against the bed, clutching your burning face in a silk pillow, yelling muffled songs of your fluster, reimagining the majestic look on his face when he confessed his feelings. Deep down you knew there was truth in his words, but how could you normally react to something so abrupt from someone so…admirable.
You embrace your pillow, push down your swelling heart, and smile. Tears of bliss fall to your cheeks and you can’t help but kick your feet like an excited schoolgirl.
You find yourself making glances at Chan when you reunite at the dinner. As usual, he does not have dinner with you but he stays by you for your own protection and eats afterward once you’ve finished. He’d look as solemn as he always did in front of other people. He took his job almost too seriously, sometimes even tasting your meal with a separate spoon in case it was poisoned. You used to laugh at his old-fashioned methods of work, there was technology for that sort of thing now, but you finally understand his devotion to his service. There more to meet the eyes, you realize.
When he follows you all the way up to your room for a night's rest, you part ways. You squirm in his presence, his confession fresh in your mind. “Good night, Chan.”
You are ready to run from him until he calls out to you, hesitancy in his voice. You meet his apologetic gaze, regretful of their last close encounter. He wishes you would not see him any differently, that he was simply a lowly guard and protector to you. His feelings towards you would not have changed regardless of your reaction. He knew his place and that was by your side as a human shield.
“Please take no more than a single thought at my confession today. Do not let it diminish my utmost respect and loyalty to the royal family. Have a good slumber, your highness.”
He retreats to his quarters conveniently not too far from your chambers, standing by the door, he gestures for you to enter your room and you obliged, watching his figure disappear behind your door. You fear that the air had changed between you, and perhaps not for the better. Your sleep would be anything but peaceful that night.
“Your highness, Good morning.”
He stands tall and firm with a smile as wide as a river. He holds beside him a fairly large trunk, gripping it by the handle.
You peer at his figure in worry, and earnest fear. “What is this, Chan?”
“I’ve decided to leave the palace forever. I realize my life was being wasted away taking care of someone who could never love me as much as I love them. So, I’ve taken on a lover of the same status.”
As if by magic a common lady appears, taking him by the arm and nuzzling his nose. They look in love, happy, and a sharp pain would shoot through your heart.
“No.” You chant.
“You will never see my face again. Goodbye. Your Highness.”
“Chan, no.”
The image of their silhouette gets smaller and smaller as they walk further away. You fall to your knees in desperation. “Chan please!”
You sob in your sleeves, hands reaching out to their shirking figures until you can only hear the echoes of your pleas.
“CHAN!”
You sit up from your bed, perspiration dampening your forehead and you are flushed to the touch. Clutching your sheets, you sigh a breath of relief that was only a dream. Soon after, your doors swing open, and a panicked guard in his baby blue nighttime attire runs to claim you, “Your Highness. I’m here. I’m here.”
His strong arms wrap tightly around your frame, soothing strokes to your hair, whispering to you it’d be okay. Your hands instinctively hold on to the fabric of his clothes, squeezing the flesh underneath, drinking in his soap’s scent and noticing how pleasant and just to your taste it was. “I know.”
He pulls you away to stare back at you, scanning you for any signs of danger placed upon you.
“I’m okay,” you reassure, “just a bad nightmare.”
“What foul image betrays you to cause such a reaction? I was ready to spar with whatever evil demon tried kidnapping you.”
He must’ve been still asleep, you assume. His colorful vocabulary, wakes you up delightfully.
“I am fine. I promise. Come, I’ll walk you to the door.”
You push him out of bed, meeting the exit, while your guard’s doubts seep out of him like a fountain. 
“Are you sure? Was it truly just a nightmare? Do you need new sheets? A snack to soothe you?”
“Not at all, all good, my good sir. Good night.”
You attempt to push him out completely but he holds you back from doing so, gripping the rims of the bedroom door. “I just want to assure you’re okay, your highness.”
You fall a little deep into those eyes, perceiving the truth of his word in them. It drove you insane how a simple confession could affect you this much. You brighten up your world, open your eyes, and made you feel alive, just like a person in love does. “I am. Just…don’t go anywhere. Stay right where you are.”
He gives a confused smile, his gaze softening the same way your tone does. “But your highness, you were just pushing me away a few seconds ago—“
You tug against his shirt and your lips for the first time make contact, his plush surface meeting yours seamlessly. Your hands clasp over his cheeks and neck, languidly moving them against him. You slowly process how he reciprocates, holding you to his chest tenderly, savoring your warmth, taste, and how it all excited him. The thin fabric between your body was the only thing to stop you, and the world around you simply disappeared. 
Before you both knew it, you were pulling him back into the bedroom. He’d quickly follow, doesn’t leave until the following morning, carrying out what he only imagined in his dreams, even if it was only for the night. It was the matter of his duty to keep you safe, to keep you happy. And he knew he could make you happy.
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microwavdhamstr · 1 year
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bucky’s nightmares 🤝 reader’s insomnia
bucky barnes x f!reader
you can never fall asleep, he can never stay asleep
description: f!reader is up late every night with her insomnia and helps bucky through a really bad nightmare.
warnings: nightmare, insomnia, bucky is traumatized, nicknames (hun/honey, darling, doll), idk let me know what i missed
notes: first fic on here and first time writing one in a very long time. also this is not a self insert at all idk what you’re talking about you sound crazy.
wc- 2.1k
it’s been a few months since bucky finally left wakanda and moved onto the compound. you haven’t spoken much, however you couldn’t deny you were attracted to the ex assassin.
living in the room beside his was a wild card. between your insomnia and nosy nature you overheard most of his nightmares. you could never gathering the courage to open your door, afraid of bothering him, but that didn’t stop the need that grew in your stomach. the need to help. to hold. to heal. to love.
————————————————
tonight your insomnia was, like always, keeping you awake longer than you could bear. working in tandem with your anxiety to not only keep you up, but keep you on edge as well. every now and again you’d swear you heard or saw something lurking in the shadows of your bedroom. an occurrence you haven’t had since before bucky moved in. your solution was to slip into the common room with your laptop, turn all the lights on, and cuddle up on the couch with your favorite blanket. sleep wasn’t the goal at that point, it never was, but you needed to get the images out of your head. the images you created on your own that unnerved you to your core.
from your self-made cocoon on the couch, you hear the routine shouts from the one and only sergeant barnes. you pause your show as to not disturb the man, hoping he would lull himself back to sleep without interruption. little to your knowledge, he never just went back to sleep. every night, without fail, he’d make his way to the kitchen for a drink. he’d sit at the table for hours before returning to his room. and, to him, tonight was just like every other.
you hear the door open and shut, his sharp and unsteady breaths slowly moving closer. every light near you is on, and as much as you wanted to go unnoticed, you can’t turn them off. you know what waits for you in the darkness. there was no avoiding whatever might happen next.
he quickly comes into view and he looks awful. his eyes are glued to the floor, his hair is damp and stuck to his forehead, he is slightly pale and clammy, you could see him trembling in fear of himself. it’s wasn’t until this moment that you truly realized how similar the two of you are. both tormented by your own minds on a daily basis, both depriving yourselves of rest against you own will, both being held captive in your own heads.
it doesn’t take him long to notice the lights, glancing around until he found the culprit. the girl on the couch buried under a think blanket. the girl who rarely left her room if she didn’t need to. the girl who kept to herself as much as possible. the girl he couldn’t quite profile no matter how hard he tried.
he freezes when he sees you. and you, well you look like a deer in headlights. he holds eye contact for a few seconds before continuing to the kitchen. you continue to sit in silence, frozen still, now holding your breath for some reason. he acts as if it was no big deal. as if you aren’t even there. but you can’t seem to move.
you hear him pour a glass of water and pull out a chair to sit on. you feel his eyes on your back. there’s no reason for you to feel scared and you’re certainly not scared of him. more like you’re scared of bothering him. you don’t want to interfere with his nightly routine. you don’t want to upset him.
“you gonna breathe anytime soon?” you forgot to account for his enhanced hearing. turning towards him, you take a slow breath and give him a nod.
“sorry, i uh-i don’t mean to intrude. i can go back to my room if you want.”
“not intruding, doll, you live here too.” his voice is soft, yet a little rough.
you sit up, moving your laptop and blanket off of your lap, giving him your attention.
“what are you doing up, anyway?”
“can’t sleep,” you shrug, “never can.” he doesn’t respond.
the silence settles for a moment before it bothers you.
“another nightmare?” you question as if you don’t already know the answer. he gives you a stiff nod anyway. “you wanna talk about it?”
“can’t,” he stands up and places his empty cup in the sink, “never can.” and he retreats to his bedroom.
————————————————
the next few weeks are similar. your nights have been getting worse, hallucinations beginning to form in the darkness of your room until you can’t stand being in there at all. bucky’s nights have been just as consistent as always. there was more conversation as time went on and the two of you were becoming comfortable with this new arrangement.
you take your spot on the couch and play family guy on your laptop until you hear his telltale shout, pausing the show and waiting for him to join you.
but he doesn’t. he keeps screaming. you can hear his cries. his pleads. his pain. you hurry into his room to find him shaking, begging for his torment to end. he hasn’t woken up yet, you start to think he isn’t going to, not on his own.
instinct takes over as you rush to his side, cupping his face in one hand and grabbing his flesh hand with your other.
“no, no, please. stop. stop! don’t! please don’t! no more, no more! please, i’m sorry!” his voice begins to quiet but you can still see the terror in his face, feel the tension in his hand.
“bucky? bucky, hun, wake up! it’s just a dream, you’re not there! you gotta open your eyes and come back to me, buck, it’s not real,” you ramble in his ear, stroking his cheek and squeezing his hand.
he shoots up with a large inhale, getting air in his lungs before processing your presence. but once he felt you he scrambled away, needing to distance himself from you. needing to protect you from him.
“hey, hey, it’s alright. it’s just me. it wasn’t real. you’re not there, you’re right here,” you moved closer to him, taking his flesh hand in yours once again, “you’re okay. just focus on your breathing, okay? you’re alright, you’re safe.”
he takes a moment to settle his breaths before speaking up.
“out.”
“what?”
“get out. don’t wanna hurt you,” his panting now slow but heavy.
“you’re not gonna hurt me.” you squeeze his hand slightly for reassurance. “you’re not there, you’re not him, and you’re not gonna hurt me.” your thumb massaged the back of his hand.
“you don’t know that.” you l hear the sadness in his voice. the worry and fear. you trust him completely, but he won’t trust himself. he can’t. he knows the winter soldier is gone but he still can’t find it in himself to actually believe it.
you pull him toward you softly, feeling him tense in your grip.
“it’s okay, jamie, just relax,” he doesn’t, “you’re in your room, in your bed, you’re safe here, you didn’t hurt anyone and you’re not going to. i am right here with you and i’m not going anywhere. just lay back down,” he does, “i’m gonna get you some water, okay? i’ll be right back.” he nods, lungs still heavy.
you do just as you said, racing to the kitchen and grabbing a cold bottle from the fridge. returning to find him laying still.
“here, hun, sit up.” he didn’t realize it, but the nicknames you occasionally throw in help him relax. they make him feel safe. he wonders if that’s how you feel when he does it.
he follows your command and sits up to drink the water, chugging half the bottle before taking another large inhale. you rub circles on his back to help ground him some more, letting him take all the time he needs.
once empty, you take the water and place it on his nightstand, while doing so you hear him sniffle.
is he… crying?
“let it out, it’s alright. you’re safe here.” you wrap your arms around his shoulders and pull his head into your neck, rubbing his back once more. he doesn’t fight back this time, instead he simply lets you guide his body into yours. and, for the first time since wakanda, he lets himself cry.
you continue to hold him, murmuring “it’s okay” and “you’re safe” over and over in his ear. giving him every ounce of comfort you could find within you.
after what felt like an eternity to him, he finally calms himself down. you feel his arms wrap around your torso, keeping his head on your neck, pulling you into his lap as close as possible, tightening his grip on you as if you’d vanish the moment he let go.
“you okay now, darling?” he nods softly into your shoulder, “do you wanna lay back down?” he nods again.
you attempt to get up and reposition the two of you, but the second you loosen your grip he tightens his. instead he just lays both of you back, pulling you on top of him, not once letting go of you. you don’t really care as long as he is comfortable and content. your hands find their way to his hair and you massage your fingers into his scalp.
“jamie, hun?” you mumble into his ear. he lets out a soft “hmm” in response. “if you ever wanna tell me about your nightmares, you can,” you felt him begin to tense up again, “you don’t have to, but i know they’re scary. and this was the worst you’ve had since you got here. maybe talking about them will help them go away.” he still hasn’t told you about any of them but you have ears. he’s never screamed like that before. never cried that hard. never pleaded that desperately.
there is a thick pause before he responds, you can almost hear the gears turning in his head. he pulls his head from the crook of your neck and moves you to his right side.
“it was after i met steve again,” he started, “i remembered him. they didn’t like that i remembered him. they ke-kept trying to ‘reset’ me but i-i just kept remembering him. they wouldn’t stop trying. in two weeks i was in and out of cryo m-maybe thirty times and every time i came out they-they-” his breath falters and you can see the tears swelling in his eyes.
“it’s okay, you don’t have to say it honey, i know.” your soothing voice pulls him back down. reminds him where he is. you reach for his metal hand, the one he was conveniently trying to keep you away from, and when you find it he pulls back.
“w-what are you doing?”
“it’s okay, buck. gimme your hand.” he hesitates but eventually complies. you trace the metal fingertips slowly, taking your time with each knuckle. you bring it closer to you, planting a soft kiss on the back of the chilled prosthetic hand. “have you talked to steve about your nightmares?”
“no, i-i… i can’t.” the defeat in his tone breaks your heart.
“why’s that hun?”
“he’s already done enough for me. he doesn’t need to see the ugly parts anymore, he doesn’t deserve it.”
“and you do?” the delicacy behind your words proves to him how much you truly care.
for a moment there is nothing. no sound, no movement. no tension either. it’s comforting.
“doll, why are you being so nice to me?”
“because i care,” you respond without skipping a beat, “because you’ve been through so much and you never deserved any of it. because you’re still being tormented by the awful things those people did to you. because you aren’t being nice enough to yourself. because i love you. bec-”
“don’t say that,” he cuts you off.
“why not?”
“you’re only saying it to make me feel better, you don’t mean it.”
“of course i’m saying it to make you feel better, why should that mean it isn’t true?” your hand makes its way back to his cheek, “why don’t we just go to sleep and talk about this in the morning, hmm?”
“thought you never sleep.” his voice sounds lighter than before. you giggle at his comment.
“then you sleep and i’ll just hold you. that sound better?” he gives a small smile.
“whatever you say, doll,” he takes your hand from his face and holds it to his chest, “for the record, i think i love you too.”
you smile and nuzzle further into him, “goodnight buck.”
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muffinrecord · 3 months
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People of influence... you mean Urara? And also Kurara who calls the idea of witches and magical girls an urban legend?
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Oh yeah and we can't forget the most important thing of all: demographics!
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Nothing will enact change faster than a bunch of middle schoolers convinced that magical powers exist!
Honestly though, I think the fact that the kids aren't looking for help from adults is kind of the point. Like uhhh yeah things aren't probably going to go well! If you only talk to other kids!
Although you know what, adults might be able to make more serious change happen but it's not always going to be a good change. I guess reaching out to friends first and getting a lil support network isn't such a bad idea. But still, there's something inherently kind of childish about this that feels... oddly sad. IDK
That does address something though that I've been wondering about-- the whole "magical girls get killed" thing by regular folks. Where adults involved, or was it just kids? Because hmm. That might solve a few questions I had lingering in my head-- the idea that a bunch of teens died (magical girl teens) by murder and it wasn't widely reported throughout the region made me raise an eyebrow. I know that murders don't necessarily get reported all the time (and I mean this is a world where witches exist that also kill people all the time so who knows how many folks go missing on a daily basis), but it felt really odd to me that a whole town could band together to kill a bunch of teenagers and it was just not talked about outside of it at all.
But if it's just a select group of teens... that makes more sense. It's not so much that teenagers are any better at keeping secrets, but you'd also have adults who might hear about the magical girl/witch thing and just dismiss it as childhood nonsense, which is an attitude that could scare magical girls out of asking for help. On one side you'd have your peers who hate you and on the other you'd have adults who don't believe you. I can see how that would lead our protagonists into despair.
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i have a question.., so basically right you are very obviously a lena fan but idk.. i could definitely like her i just feel like we havent seen enough of her to actually understand what her role is or if she is likeable or relatable or whatnot? is there something in the arg that gives evidence to her being someone who should be rooted for? or do you instead like her not because she is good or because she can get better but instead just because you find her compelling?
i just wonder if theres evidence for a reason to find her likable that i missed or just forgot about and am curious to see what makes you a fan of her
/genq not a hater just very neutral on her and surprised so many people say she "just needs a nap" or humanize her past what we've already seen and want to understand from the perspective of someone who is a fan
i honestly think we've actually been given a lot to work with when it comes to lena; sure, not as much as the other characters, but what is there compels me. a lot.
first of all, i really like how obviously different she is from jonah. especially with the whole "inviting the horrors in" vs. "keeping the horrors out" thing. there's something really fascinating about the fact that she (seems to) care about her employees like that.
i think my deeper interest in her started when i relistened to the first episode. i honestly thought the way she acted was kind of funny. that kind of perfectly deadpan, aloof, boring characters have always caught my attention to some degree.
all the jokes and headcanons about her being tired are more about just all the shit she has to deal with on a daily basis. i'm also really fascinated by her past, so much is implied just with how she treats the horrors she deals with as a job.
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ashpkat · 2 months
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ash dump ideas u never completed or just had on me
idk what fandom. and idc
feel high but also dead rn so j need some brain juice.... please, dickmaster ash the smash.....
oh boy i can do you one worse better. here’s an unfinished first chapter of a cassidy blake fusion au idea i had for magisterium. (u don’t need to know what cassidy blake is to understand but it’s by v.e. schwab)
Call had always been able to see ghosts. Somewhat. He could feel ghosts than he could see on a regular basis, it required a little work to actually see the ghosts. There were some rules. The Veil rule, for instance. How ghosts could only be seen in the Veil. With one exception of course.
Some people think ghosts only come out on Halloween, or during the night. That was not true, not by a long shot. Just because people couldn’t see them doesn’t mean they weren’t there. They could be anywhere, in some poor old lady’s garden, the bread aisle of the supermarket, the front seat of a bus, anywhere. 
Call could feel when a ghost is near. It was something reminiscent of the pitter patter of rain on a window, or maybe someone lightly tapping him on the shoulder. In other more severe cases, sometimes it was like a pulsing headache or someone digging their nails into his brain. 
It happened at random. And this certainly wasn’t the first time he felt it, and it wouldn’t be the last, either. Call was sitting in his desk during Algebra when it began, the tap tap tap. Like always, he tried to ignore it. Key word was tried. It chiseled away at his focus, and there was only one way Call knew that would make it go away. If he went and saw for himself.
Which more often than naught, he doesn’t want to go do. He can tell Aaron doesn’t either, because across the room when Call met his eye, met the intense glare he’s giving him from his seat. Very intense, like terminator laser death intense (Calls never seen the Terminator, so he doesn’t know if they actually shoot lasers but he thinks they probably should because that would be cool). 
Aaron couldn’t feel the tapping, but he knew his best friend well enough to realize when Call does. 
Call shifted in his seat, bouncing his leg absentmindedly. It had gotten stiff and painful from sitting down all day. The teacher just kept droning on. 
“When you get the variable X in this scenario isolated then you’ll have to…” Mr. Graves wheezed out as if he’d been smoking for thirty years. Knowing the amount of stress his students cause him, he probably had.
People around the room were getting antsy with their boredom. No one could even stay still. Rafe wqs sleeping with his eyes open, Kai doodles on their shoes, Kylie and Lacy were giggling and passing notes to each other. 
It was nothing good, Call assumed, because nothing good comes out of popular kids. That’s what Kylie and Lacy were, popular. He could tell because of their bleach blonde hair and perfectly painted nails and how they all looked like carbon copies of eachother. 
They’re usually all had similar personalities too — being general assholes. Kylie has once told Call not to get too close because she thought his bum leg might be contagious. Call fumed for at least 2 weeks after that (and still, 7 years later, he still was).
Maybe he should’ve wanted to be popular, but that was never his style (both literally and figuratively). There were just too many rules, like laugh at jokes but don’t laugh too loud. Smile but not too wide. Wear the right clothes. Play the right sports. Care, but don’t care too much. Etcetera, etcetera.
Call had rules he lived by, like rules with Aaron, but those were different.
 Kylie flicked the note in front of her, over to Lacy’s desk, but she missed and it floated to the floor like a leaf in the wind. From his seat, Call can see Aaron strike a rare, impish grin. 
“I know just what will get your mind off this ghost tap,” said Aaron. Call looked over at him, cocking an eyebrow with mild surprise.
The thing about Aaron was this: he could be popular. He could be the star quarterback. He could be the teenage heartthrob of the school. But he couldn’t.
Because Aaron was dead. He’s a ghost.
Aaron got out of his seat and sauntered over to Lacy’s desk, she’s retrieved the note and is stifling a giggle as she scribbled a reply.
He read aloud over her shoulder, but Call was the only one who can hear him, “Top ten cutest boys in the school,” Aaron feigned surprise, “not to spoil anything but.. number one is Ryan.”
Call rolled his eyes. He could see as Lacy turned around and placed her response on Kylie’s desk, her arm went straight through Aarons torso. Aaron shivered. Then, he turned his body to face Kylie's desk, gingerly putting his fingers on one of the many multi-colored pens that lined it. He focused all his attention on it, scrunching up his semi-transparent tan face. It doesn't move.
In movies, poltergeists could throw TV's and slide beds across the floor. But in reality, it took a lot of ghost energy to cross the Veil -- which is what Call dubbed the little curtain that separated the living and the dead. And the ghosts who do have that energy are typically super old and not very pleasant. Luckily they've never had to deal with one of those. Call was secretly glad that Aarons wasn’t made of all that stuff.
Aaron caught Call staring at his pen escapade and sheepishly smiles, as if he knew he's probably not supposed to be doing that. Then he gracefully clipped himself through the floor and reappeared next to Call. 
He perched himself on Calls desk, effectively hindering what little attention Call was paying. 
“I’d say that didn’t get your mind off it, hm?” Aaron cracked a half smile.
Yeah, actually maybe a little, but now all I can think about are Ryan’s chiseled abs, Call thought to himself, careful not to speak aloud. That was one major perk of having a ghost best friend, he never even had to open your mouth to have a conversation, with the mind link and all. He doesn't quite understand why their minds are linked, however.
“Better than thinking about ghosts right?” Aaron said, but as he does Call could feel the tapping getting stronger. Like an itch at the edge of his vision, pulling and begging for him to look that way. Aaron sighed and shot him a sympathetic look as he hopped down from his desk.
It really only made Call think more about ghosts, and not just the one pestering him, somewhere far in the school, but also Aaron. Call doesn’t know how long it’s been since.. the incident. He tried not to think about it too loud, since Aaron typically gets a little upset when Call mentioned it— how he got stuck actually being a ghost.
He couldn’t have been dead for too long, since there’s not anything retro about him with his floppy blonde hair, Nikes, and Marvel T-shirt. And also because he’s only showed up as of lately, and lately being the last 2 years. It was when Call was 12, and his dad had gotten some weird antique with some weird ghost boy seemingly attached to it. 
“I prefer the term corporally challenged.” Aaron rolled his eyes at Call.
Quit reading my thoughts you freak, Call shot back at him, can’t I get any privacy? 
“It’s not my fault you’re a loud thinker,” he retorted. “Also for the record, I wasn’t attached to the antique! I was following the pull back to you. Things aren’t haunted like that. You know that’s not how it works.”
Thats not what my dad says, Call hid his laugh with a swift cough into his hand. A few people turn and look at him anyway. He sunk lower into his seat and eyes the clock. The tapping was getting worse.  
Calls dad, Alastair, had always been a little obsessed with antiques and the history behind them. Lately, he had been inching towards supernatural territory. Actually no, not just inching, it was a full on sprint into spectral space.
It was like a switch being flipped in his brain, and all Alastair wanted to buy now are creepy old dolls that looked like they would be haunted but weren’t. Call would’ve known if they are. And it wasn’t like Call could ever tell his dad that, because he’d go crazy and try to interrogate him. Alastair had even been talking to some medium that claims he can see ghosts, but Call doubted. He’d met the guy and he couldn’t even see Aaron, so that was enough evidence for a faker for him. 
Maybe he’s going through a midlife crisis, Call thinks to Aaron. He just crinkled his nose at Call and shook his head.
”I don’t think Alastair believes the medium can actually see ghosts,” Aaron said slowly. “Maybe he just likes the company. If you’re catching my drift.”
Call tried hard to not let his face twist up and make it look like he was constipated. No? Whats the drift i’m missing here?
”You know,” he sighed, “that they’re not just chatting about ghosts? They’re getting… romantical?” At Call’s blank face, he gave up the ghost (ha) and soldiered on. “Is the tapping still there?” Aaron asked, even though Call was pretty sure he already knew the answer.
Sure is, he replied and rubbed the back of his neck. Like a knock, knock, knocking on the base of his skull. It was telling him that there’s some serious paranormal activity going on. Call sighed. He could certainly do without all this spectral nonsense, he couldn’t wait for Summer. Because in Summer, Call could get full nights rests without hearing the tap of the Veil and rather the sounds of Alastair tinkering with cars in the garage. There's something odd about the Hunts house, because Call found that it’s strangely quieter than the rest of the town, especially in Summer. Six weeks of quiet, six weeks of Summer sun and reading comic books with Aaron, six weeks of almost feeling normal with his best friend. All Call has to do was make it through these final days.
Call raised his hand like the dutiful student he was. Mr. Graves saw him and gave him a stern look, already knowing Calls question wouldnt be about math.
“Yes, Callum?” He exhaled, sick of him even though he hadn’t even spoken yet.
”Can I use the bathroom?” Call shuffled in his seat and rolled his shoulders, trying to shake off the feeling, but the tapping was persistent. Out of the corner of his eyes, he could see Aaron sigh and frown. It didn’t take a genius to understand where Call planned to go with this.
”Can’t it wait?” Mr. Graves sighed wearily, “I’m in the middle of very detailed instructions. You’ll miss them.”
Call scowled, ”You know I’ll miss them anyway, even if I was in the room, now c’mon I really gotta go!”
Mr. Graves looked considering, eyeing Call like he was some disease-ridden freak. Then he sighed again and pinched the bridge of his nose with his pointed and his thumb.
"Fine. But make it quick, do not dawdle," he waved him off and turned back to the board.
Call was already out of his seat and snatching the hall pall before Mr. Graves could even think about finishing his sentence. He shuffled out of that stuffy classroom as fast as his leg would allow. In the hallway, Aarons slightly transparent head popped out of a wall, and he didn't look too pleased. Call hardly spared him a glance as he limped down the staircase, his footsteps audible in the nearly silent hallway
"Can we just be normal for once?" Aaron asked, sounding a bit sad. He’d floated down the steps instead of walking, which Call was jealous of. If he was undead, he’d sure love to go without the constant pain in his left leg.
"You're a ghost. And I can see you. That's not normal, so I doubt normal is something we could even achieve." Call hissed at him, the tapping was pulling him somewhere weird.
Call back tracked. It pulled him like a rope attached to his gut right down into a completely seperate hallway.
A locker door swung open and hit Aaron in the face. Call instinctively flinches, but he passed through it like it was nothing. He appeared to be sulky.
"Well you could at least try and be normal," he muttered.
"Whats that supposed to mean?" Call stopped dead in his tracks and glared in the other boys direction. Aaron held his hands up in surrender. He looked apologetic enough for making Call mad, which irked him a little because Aaron was just too nice.
The thing was, they both knew that Call wasn’t a normal boy and Aarons not a normal ghost. There was an accident, snow and ice, cars screeching, and slipping into darkness. And then Call was whole again, flash forward 13 years, and a ghost soon-to-be best friend showed up in Calls house. (a/n: fix/ ??? dunno if i want this to be canon)
Call turned away, skulking off and letting the tapping pull him away. He doesn't even have to think about where he had to go. He ducked into the library, the librarian was somewhere in the backroom, therefore, she couldn't and wouldn't bother Call. Call slunk in between the rows of books. By now, the tapping was more a thudding. This was probably, no, definitely where he needed to be. Aaron appeared in front of him, bottom lip jutted out in a pout.
“I mean this: have you ever tried to ignore the tapping? Just wait it out?” Aaron crossed his arms, “I know, I know..”
“Do you though?” Call exclaimed, but quickly lowered his voice when he realized where he was, “We’ll be quick, in and out.”
Aaron frowned, “But…”
“In and out.” He repeated.
After contemplating silence, the tension in Aarons body eased and he sighed, “fine. Rule number 9 of friendship, friends don’t leave friends in the Veil.”
“Bingo.” Call shot him quick finger guns.
Behind him, Call reached for light airy fabric. It’s wasn’t actual physical fabric, but it was the only tangible way to describe crossing over into the Veil. He pulled it away and let himself fall. Then it was all black and Call felt sharp cold air pierce his lungs, his fingers turning icy, and his whole body becoming overwhelmingly cold.
And then it was again, Calls was back to his normal self. Except, he wasn’t. Not in the veil. He was slightly more translucent than before, and there’s a glowing blue, almost grey, light inside his chest. Beside him is Aaron, looking more solid than not— however he lacked the glowing light inside, telling Call he is indeed still a—
“Ghost?” Aaron sighed, “You’re thinking a lot today? What’s up?”
“Now is not the time for our therapy sessions,” Call snapped back.
(the ghost is jennifer? idk? canon book was that ghost died in a fire but maybe the bookshelves crushed her / someone pushed the shelves?)
(call goes home. uhhh. oh yeah the medium is constantine this is another alastine au. alastair is like surprise we’re going on vacation to salem and call is Fuck)
the only other notes i had for this was
Salem, Massachusetts
(3 locations minimum:
Burying Point Cemetary,
The Witch House,
Protectors Ledge,
House of the seven Gables,
Rockafellas(I HAVE AN ACTUAL FUNNY IDEA),
The Salem Inn,
Wicked Good Books(Tam), Gallows Hill)
- Ghost boy!Aaron
- Ghost Hunter!Call
- Ghost Hunter!Tamara
- Regular boy!Jasper deWinter that gets dragged along w/ Tamara
- Big bad!Maugris, steals Souls in hopes to get a body because he’s a fucking idiot and doesn’t know that’s Not How It Works LMAOOOO
- one sided calron :( but call doesn’t end up with any one in the end
- this is future ash i don’t remember how aaron died but i think he got murdered? idk it was really really weird. in cassidy blake, jacob (the ghost best friend) drowned to death trying to get smthing for his sibling but. eh. aaron has no siblings)
- deadass remember nothing abt this au. btw don’t remember what the funny idea was for rockafellas im so sad i remember losing it at SOMETHINg
Anyway
YO reblog this shit if you want me to share more of my unfinished ideas / chapters
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vampirae · 2 years
Note
bby i see you posting here and the situation makes me go🥺 cuz I wanna see your new posts every damn minute I enter this site you make us(followers) miss you so much 🖤🖤🖤🖤
and please let me know about your thoughts on 8th house synastry
this man has his Mars and Moon on my 8th house and idk what the F*** does that mean astrologically😭
Baby 🖤🖤🖤 how are you doing my beloved? 🥺 I miss you so much 🥹
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Anyway, 8th house overlay may be so intense for both; it's never casual, something that's unforgettable. In my personal experience, both people feel understood, deeply connected.
~ the 8th house person usually has moments of fear and paranoia, they feel so attracted, so sensitive, even way too attached, the fear that it may be an illusion, or the other person isn't that serious or doesn't reciprocate the intensity and feelings scare them.
~ the planet(s) individual feels oddly different when in company of the 8th houser; they may even change their behaviour or adopt habits of the 8th houser.
~ in many case both of them feel strangely different; both of them undergo some change in their psyche and personality/behaviour.
~ 8th house moon individual feels very open about their trauma and feelings, even a capricorn moon could open up and being emotional with 8th houser. Both of them feels emotionally nurtured and accepted, their past and traumas are being "healed" or at least it doesn't hurt as much as before.
~ 8th house mars is sexually intrigued and oddly irritable yet patient. There's a lot of fights and misunderstandings, both are sensitive and dramatic. Usually, fights particularly in person can be tamed by the underlying explosive lust and desire. Furthermore, usually it can signify that both of you have similar kinks and fantasies, it's like you have manifested the "perfect" partner in that area; someone that can finally satisfy your fantasies.
~ 8th house synastry creates strong bonds, so if a relationship is formed it's for a long run; accompanied by 7th house placements it leads to marriage too.
~ Jealousy, paranoia and possessiveness it's also pretty normal to see with this bonds, same goes for toxicity but it doesn't bother them (unless we're talking about freedom loving signs such as gemini, sagittarius or aquarius placements mostly sun/moon/venus) because it steams from a deep longing or obsession or just codependency.
~ future projects particularly relating to money and business it's something that is talked very often between and by the couple.
~ with moon and mars there's a lot of ambition in relation to gaining money together (even with not so honest means), it's a need for a comfortable relationships, gifts and spending money together is also a pattern (even for hotels), or sexy stuff.
~ sex or sexual dependence is a serious issue and matter here. I'm talking about satisfying orgasm, pleasing sexual fantasies becoming reality etc
~ with mars and moon nurturing/caring about eachother and being protective it's on daily basis
Personally I'm such a great fan of 7th, 8th and 12th synastry; it's so deep, transforming, serious energy, very emotional and sensitive but you feel loved and secure that you can't stop daydreaming about a future together.
So bonus points if one of you or both have this house overlay, or 11th particularly for sun (so you'll be great friends not only lovers). 7th house Saturn though it's not auspicious for marriage (it may means delay in marriage), same goes for Saturn in 8th and 12th house if you care about mental health.
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sobeksewerrat · 7 months
Text
HYPERANALYZING/ SCREAMING ABOUT EP.3 COZ IT IS MY FAVOURITE AND I AM REWATCHING IT LET'S GOOOO
Disclaimer: this post is literally just me talking about how much I kin Milly and technically a combined liveblog
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Oh look it's one of Taylor's bullies from BWBL!!
Also, what the music freak is this shitty pop song playing in the back ground man I'm-
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Why is the school nurse running around like that-
Gotta love how everyone just rushes over to see Milly fight, and that Jake knows exactly who they're talking about (even though they've been friends for like 2 weeks). Really shows how much of a negative-ish reputation Milly has (relatable man)
Fuck Miss Jones man she sucks she can't even break off a fight who hired this bitch.
I really like the fight scene, Luke's animation is kinda wonky but I really miss seeing Kurie's animation!! I really miss the old GL episodes, they were just so much more well-written, and the amount of editing done by Rosy in them is really underrated like they seriously look so good considering how limited GL was.
God, seeing Milly fight for something Zoey stole is really fucking relatable. Like, my bullies always steal my books, my sketchbooks, my pencil case..etc. and I always get in trouble when I try to wrestle them for it. Like, I get yelled at and keep getting told "You're a girl you shouldn't be fighting with anybody!" and all they get for pushing me over the edge is a slap on the wrist, schools are really unfair (and then adults wonder why we don't talk to them about shit).
Dear Rosy Jake is so pathetic he literally gets thrown away by just a punch I'm-
Fuck you Luke
Zoey calling Milly an animal is um, weird, to say the least.
Um, side note, I really forgot how weird Henriam were in the first few episodes- like you could see the basis of their characters as we know them now being established but it's still so weird seeing them like this (also Henry is almost Liam's height in GL which makes me want to die)
Imma just skip over the Miss Jones scene I practically said everything I have to say but before that Drew was too much of a dick in this episode in an unlikeable way like THANK GOD he's barely in this one and seeing Lia flirting with Jake feels very wrong for some reason. Still love her GL outfit though <33
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Wow Hailey I am so glad to know you care more about the competition than Milly <444/sarcasm
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FUCKING HYPOCRITE- (jk I love GL era Hailey <44)
Seeing the club pressuring Milly to talk speaks to me on a weirdly personal level. Everyone wants me to talk about my feelings, but have you ever considered that I don't want to talk about them? That I am still not comfortable enough to let you in? To let you see that I am vulnerable? To actually confront the fact that I am not okay? I know the music club and the ppl ik irl genuinely mean well, but sometimes people aren't willing to talk, and you should respect that. Sometimes, just being there to keep us company and not judge us is enough, yk?
Side note: can really relate to Milly's reflex of hitting people when they get too close, I literally have to stop myself from punching my own mother whenever she grabs my arm or something I fucking hate being touched and I like the nice detail of Zander smiling when he found out who punched Jake.
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Honestly, fuck Zander man. I joked about Hailey not caring about Milly's feelings, about Zander straight up doesn't care.
He is a straight up reminder of my one of my bullies and all the adults in my life. Fuck you Zander.
"Does the band mean nothing to you?"
DO MILLY'S FEELINGS MEAN NOTHING TO YOU ZANDER?!?
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[Cries in this is super relatable]
"Great...she's on a rampage again"
Um...so, the girl being on the verge of a breakdown and being understandably angry at her bullies and her friends being extremely inconsiderate is considered being on a rampage? Damn, Sean, why do people even like you man.
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So...you WANT to have control over her?? Idk man I am really mad at zander rn
"We can deal with whatever's bothering you, together!"
"Milly, I'm worried about you."
I already elaborated on this point but I just want to talk about how much I love Hailey in the first 4 episodes she was literally an awesome queen what happened to her 😭
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God I love Redemption so fucking much it is literally the best song and musical scene in TMF /gen
Love the foreshadowing to Lia's redemption in the scene where they're bullying Milly btw, Rosy is awesome when it comes to subtlety (that is how you spell it right-?)
"🎵But you keep trying to get too close🎵"
Literally on the verge of tears this song (and whole episode tbh) hits way too close to home/gen (i feel like I have to keep clarifying how genuine I bcuz I don't think people realize how emotional this gacha series can make me)
"🎵Saved myself by turning into stone🎵"
[In tears] I swear people really underestimate how fucked up someone's psyche can be when they're all cheery and hyper. Media has made us believe that people who bottle up emotions are all cold and depressed but really the most cheerful people you knew tend to be the most depressed. The only other major examples from my fandoms that fit this category that I can think of are KEL from Omori and Kokichi form Dangan, but I feel like KEL fits this statement more that Ouma tbh
"🎵So save your judgement 'cause you just don't know🎵"
REAL. AND THE CAMERA PANNING TO ZANDER WAS JUST *chef's kiss* I SWEAR ROSY IS REALLY GOOD AT SHOWING EMOTION.
"🎵And they keep coming like moth to flame🎵"
People want a reaction. Adults keep telling you to just ignore the bullies and they'll go away, but they never will because they KNOW they're getting under your skin and they'll continue teasing you till you snap and they'll only stop when it's already too fucking late.
"🎵Redemption never came🎵"
This. This line is perfect and it is the perfect ending to the song. People are so quick to judge and tell you you need to change but they never stop to get to know the real you, they never stop to actually help you change, and you'll always be the villain in the end.
"Milly seems really important to these guys"
YA THINK?!?!
"I'm missing chunks of my hair because of her!"
Zoey please marry me 💖
"They must be talking about Milly..."
Yeah, no shit, Sherlock
"I can't believe she has a crush on that nerd!"
Me neither, Zoey, Milly is wayyyy above his league.
"You...blackmailed your friend for me?"
Also, being bullied for a crush is soo real. Like, I am aroace so I wasn't bullied for HAVING a crush, I was bullied for being a "pick me" because I just so happened to be close friends with a guy and they were all accusing us of dating (this is like a big deal here since dating is very frowned upon, especially for AFABs; so they KNEW they were gonna tank my reputation and ruin my life basically. I can't tell you the amount of teachers who would look at me weird when I talked to my guy friends)- anyways this barely has anything to do with Milly or tmf but this is my blog I do whatever
[EDIT: A WHOLE CHUNK OF THE RANT WAS DELETED?? I AM REWRITING IT NOW]
"Y'know, what? I think I might go see what Drew's up to, I've yet to tell him about how I saw you with your sugar daddy last weekend"
This was the moment I started hating Jake. I didn't like him before, but I started loathing him at that moment.
I have been cheated on before, and if my friends knew and didn't tell me I would have killed them.
"But drew wouldn't have believed him!" Well, he believed him in ep 10, didn't he? And Henriam would have been there to back him up anyways.
Another question I have regarding this is how on earth did he blackmail her?! Liek he didn't have a photo or anything.
AND WHY ISNT HE CONCERNED ABOUT ZOEY GOIGN OUT WITH AN ADULT!??!
"Aw, you two looked very cozy together"
His tone reminds me of my abuser and I don't like. It has nothing to do with the essay, but I wanted to point it out. It really got under my skin.
"Just...please don't tell Drew about what you saw"
Is ti just me or does she seem genuinely sad?? Like her conscience is tormenting her?? Idk man maybe I am just reading into this way too much but- [pulls out ancient tmf theories about Zoey being forced into this by sb and actually being in love with Drew]
"I can't believe those girls, snooping into people's diaries like that"
And you can believe Jake blackmailing Zoey?? I get you're still salty about Lia but cmon Hailey give the man some consequences
[INSERT DEAN SCENE HERE]
MR.BROOOOOOOOOOOM
GOD HER TONE IS JUST- LIKE, SHE'S UNCERTAIN ABOUT JAKE'S METHOD [PROBABLY] BUT SHE CANT BELIEVE SOMEBODY CARES ABOUT HER THAT MUCH OH MY- SOMEBODY GIVE HER A HUG PLEASE SHE NEEDS IT
I SWEAR IF I SEE SOMEBODY ELSE CALL HER CARDBOARD LIEK THE ANON DID I WILL KILL YHEM
"Um...well, when you put it like that-"
Jesus Christ this man doesn't even realize what he did.
That final interaction with Milly and Jake where they reflect on the whole thing is just- beautiful, awesome, fantastic. It's really sweet and I love seeing Milly finally being comfortable enough to talk about her feelings (even if she isn't being too specific or conveying all of her feelings)
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Why does Elliot look like that.
Milly why do you like this guy.
Anyways, I love the sound effects Rosy used to add whenever people would blush, I miss it (iirc it isn't in any of the new ep)
GOD I MISSED HE INTRO/OUTRO SONG SO MUCH NOSTALGIA-
Anyways, I love this episode, this is peak TMF and it makes me angry to see how Milly was reduced to comic relief in the end.
I would write a proper conclusion but I am too fucking lazy
Bye freaks
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randomnameless · 5 months
Note
Localization discourse has started to rear its head again because of some Funimation localizer defending a line from Dragon Maid but it really got me thinking, I feel like so many people are so quick on demonizing anyone who doesn't like localization changes as pro-GG when it's much more simpler. People don't hate localization changes because of the message itself but rather because it's not what the character is saying 9/10 and it comes off as calculated and cynical. I feel like it's kind of a direct consequence of transformative fandom, with the whole "I'm going to write the story the way I want it to be and fill up the spaces" but instead of a fanfic it's with the original source material.
Pro GG?
What is GG? AI?
I remember this argument of the "it's not what the character is saying" and people being pissed because they couldn't get the "right" script - and tbh, after reading some arguments here and there, localisation always comes with necessary changes/adaptation to the text, let it be grammatically or to convey ideas from a language to another, so if you want a 100% faithful script then... better start to learn the language lol
With Funimation though...
The Shinchan earlier post was telling enough of my opinion about drastic changes that aren't used to transcribe a meaning or convey an idea to a foreign audience, it's just... erasing the source material and swapping your own ideas on them.
Like, uhhh
Funimation acquired the Shin-chan US license in 2005. Funimation's dub takes many liberties with the source material and was heavily Americanized. Many sexual references, dark humor, and references to then-current popular American culture were added, including many jokes about subjects such as Jews, terrorism, and Viagra. Characters were given significantly different personalities and new, previously non-existent backstories. For instance, Shin is refused an allowance, on he basis that he could use it to buy drugs (crystal meth), his schoolmate Kazama ('Georgie Herbert Walker Prescott III' in this dub) was an absurdly hawkish ultra-conservative Republican, the unseen father of Nene (known in the dub as "Penny") was suggested to be physically abusive towards both his wife and daughter, Principal Enchou was rewritten as a half Romani, half Peruvian man with a complicated, checkered backstory that includes a stint as an accident-prone magician, The kids' teacher: Yoshinaga-sensei (known in the dub as "Miss Polly"), was rewritten as a kinky and often domineering nymphomaniac,
The earlier Vitello and Phuuz dub also edited some jokes and/or what was considered indecent exposure like shin's buttocks and tried to "occidentalise" a few references, but it wasn't like straight up changing what a character is or their personality!
No doubts funimation was "authorised" by whoever had the rights of the franchise to lolcalise and edit it as they did but it just comes out as a "why did they rewrite that stuff like they did", to make more money, to make another "mature cartoon" like Family Guy expy, idk.
And to be honest... I don't really care, because I grew up with the Vitello Dub and read some manga chapters of Shin-chan, so I know what the manga/anime (sure, the dog wasn't named lucky but shiro!) is supposed to say and/or be about.
I don't agree when you say those "lololcalisations" are a consequence of the transformative fandom in general, transformative works have existed since... forever lol (some dude wrote in the early middle ages (grégoire de Tours?) how Franks are descendans of Achilles or something to explain how kickass his king and his people are like, at this point, he's writing a self-insert OC story, right?)
But in modern times, there used to be a clear (?) divide between what was transformative work and what was canon - 50 Shades of Grey sort of started as a Twilight fanfic, but it became its own thing and no calls it a Twilight adaptation or "Twilight" anymore.
The Aeneid? Despite what devoted fans wants the world to believe, is "just" a fanfiction, aka someone writing about the characters he """loves""" no matter how OOC they are. It's a Fodlan fanfic and treated as such. Or should lol.
Still, if in a fanfic, Flayn can apologise for being born as a lizard because having lizard blood means she's automatically evil and oppresses humanity due to the fact she exists, it's only a fanfic. It's not something I like, OOC as fuck, but okay, moving on. Rhea eating ketchup is my own hc, also OOC since we don't see her eating any in the games, same thing - but fanfics are OOC by essence because they're a transformative work !
As I said, okay, moving on.
But when what is supposed to be as close as "canon", albeit translated, dips in the same "OOC" territory?
Sure, Eng!Raphael will say "I" instead of "ore" to refer to himself - and yet, imo, if professional localisers (at least the people picked by the company to bring games to an international audience!) have some sort of leeway with canon, their work is inherently transformative - since they're localising -they are still bound by some rules, unlike a fanfic author, because the aim of their work is not the same.
When you write a fanfic, you write it for yourself, to tell the story you want.
Of course it depends, like the funi shin chan dub showed, but usually, I think, when you are a professional localising something (a manga, anime, book, tv series, myth, story, anything!) you are supposed to only bring "necessary" changes to the source material to bring this source material to the "targeted audience".
And it's kind of hard to determine at what point is a "change" necessary or not - back in the 2000, "Jonouchi" had to be changed in "Joey" because, supposedly, non japanese children wouldn't be able to understand/connect/watch/idk a show with a foreign name (even here in France, we got "Petit Coeur" aka Small/Little Heart for... Piccolo in the early 90s!) - but now in the 2020s Midorima isn't dubbed "Mike".
(even if 2013 saw a localised Fates edit "Suzukaze" to "Kaze" for reasons as foggy as Fodlan's 10k years of lore)
And we of course have the notion of "targeted audience" - here in France, in the 90s, basically any "animated cartoon" was supposed to be targeted for children, like 3 to 10 years old. Which is the reason why we got lunar dubs for Hokuto no Ken and City Hunter (no "brothels", but instead, "vegetarian restaurants"!).
Yugioh was dubbed for a younger audience than, I guess, what was the targeted audience for the manga (even the original anime, regardless of the dub or not, feels like it was made for younger "children" than the ones who would read the manga!).
And this is where I wanted to come with the modern "transform the source material!" lolcalisations - are they "heavily" edited because they target a specific audience?
Like... the funimation Shinchan dub was obviously not aimed at children the manga, or even the original anime, hell even the Vitello dub, were targeting.
It's almost as if we're not talking about "bringing this definite thing to random people", but "finding/tweaking random things to definite people".
Take Fodlan's lolcalisation, especially Treehouse/Pat's.
NoA was the only regional branch to have, on the official website, something like "the Church controls Fodlan".
Through the 4 (already 4!) years of coverage, some people are still finding dub exclusive lines that portray the CoS as "BaD" or in a more negative light than the original text. Pat completely missed (or was it on purpose?) Rhea's character, so Leigh had to dub Rhage, when Supreme Leader was scrubbed off her most, uh, dubious personality traits (tfw no information campaign anymore :( or calling Rhea a Nabatean as an insult :()
Why? Why those changes? Is it because Pat/Treehouse didn't want to bring the game to the US, but wanted to bring this game to the "Dany revolution yas slay kween" crowd + the "organised religion especially catholicism BaD" crowd? Or because they thought bringing "a game" to this crowd would bring more money than to bring "Fire Emblem Three Houses" to the general US crowd? So they "reworked" FE16 to have messages that would attract this certain crowd ?
(and apparently it worked, iirc the US sales made up for 50% of FE16's sales, so it was very popular (and profitable!!))
The Pat/Treehouse changes weren't "necessary" to understand the source material, or try to find similar references (a trip to a hot spring in Shinchan was replaced with a trip to Paris, because children who might not be familiar with japan might not know what is a hot spring, or what a "trip to the hot spring" is supposed to be), so why were they made?
Is it like the Funimation dub? To reach specific people, even if the meaning and essence of the original material is lost?
In a nutshell, I don't think localisation companies (Treehouse or Funi) work in a vaccum, if they can lolcalise so much, it obviously means they got the authorisation of whoever has the rights to the original source material (maybe even the creator themselves!) to "edit" the content...
But that's what I came to regret the time where localisation, even if they had westernised names and more westernised refs, wasn't that "free", as in, Funi and Pat/Treehouse write their fanfic of Shinchan/FE16 ? Sure, why not, I mean, everyone can write a fanfic. Can I get a peak at the original source - edited as necessary because i'm not reading in the original language and I might not catch all references - please? No, because the only thing available is either something I cannot understand, or a fanfiction that takes liberties, as fanfic do, with canon.
Take Shinchan.
OG : Shin is a preschooler who has a dog named Shiro - meaning white - because his dog is white.
Vitello dub : Shin is a preschooler who has a dog named Lucky.
Funi dub : Shin wants an allowance but his parents are afraid he will buy meth and he has a dog named Lucky.
Remove the "old school" Vitello dub, and either Shin is a preschooler who named his dog "white" because the dog is white, or Shin is... a young child who receives money but lives in an area where he could buy drugs.
I can't understand the OG material, and I know the Funi one is a fanfiction, so what should I do? Treat this fanfic as canon, or, learn the language/try to understand the material by myself using dubious tools like translating apps? Or am I cursed to forever miss on Shinchan, even in the 2000s, aka an era where people can translate and localise movies from one language to another, but apparently for this one manga/anime, it's not possible unless it's lolcalised? Snowhite was turned into "Blanche-Neige" but the story is mostly the same than the one told in the US, but for Shinchan, I can only get the "Family Guy" version that isn't told in Japan?
I remember there was a controversy about localisation (when the thing that sparked that controversy wasn't even localisation related!) where some people, annoyed with the "liberties" they have with their dub version, became intense and rude and want to see localisers as "mere" translators...
And it escalated to have some localisers basically saying a game they localised is "their take" on a story - which is true, because each translation/localisation works with the bias of the translator/localiser, even if they try to be as neutral as possible, they can't completely remove themselves from their work -
Still, in FE16, Pat'n'Treehouse removed the "Supreme Leader uses propaganda" mention. Why? Is it their bias talking, they don't want her to "look bad"? But the script, the game wants the player to know she uses "information campaigns". Pat's "take" is she doesn't use it, but as a player, can't I be offered the choice to make my own take after seeing the script that mentions it, or not? Is Pat the one who directed the script, and wrote it as the "main thread" that links everything in the game (regardless of Fodlan's consistency lol), or was it Kusakihara/someone else?
If pat arbitrarly "removes" this part of the script, but I see it because I play in Japanese/Chinese/Korean/heck maybe other languages whose dub wasn't overseen by Pat, can it be said I played the same game as the players who played with the Pat dub/script?
Pat's CF!Felix calls Dimitri a monster, OG CF!Felix calls him a man -> thankfully we can count on fans to find stuff like this out but, again, why this bias against Dimitri in CF - that comes here from the lolcalisation, and not from the original text?
Why is it there? What if someone wants to play, and hopefully, understand, not Pat's "take" on their relationship in CF, but the writers/developer's? Is that someone fucked, or kindly asked to learn japanese (aka to do Pat'n'Treehouse's job?).
I don't really have The Perfect Solution (tm) anon to the general localisation discourse, at one point I was on the "just translate" fence, but when you understand a pun or a reference, and how it connects to something else, the game/book/anime/movie you're watching takes another level and it's much more enjoyable!
And yet, growing up with 4Kids and seeing shit like Treehouse butchering stuff, or hearing about Funimation Shinchan is... disheartening.
The only thing I can say is I'll always be rooting for dual audio, let it be for preferences but also to get at least what is easily understandable to everyone (I mean intonations, shocks, laughs, etc etc) and a glimpse at what the game/moving/anime is supposed to be enjoyed, especially with story heavy scripts like the FE series - while reading subs, because even the script is translated/localised, at least with the audio, it's easier to spot "lolcalisations".
And let's not forget the most important lol
The Fandom itself!
Let it be for FE, Tales or anything else, what I find fascinating (on Tumblr but even on redshit and SF once upon a time!) is how fans will be able to compare scripts, people familiar/fluent/who know a language will be able to spot the changes, and inform anyone who wants to be informed in the community that, say, Xander and Marx are pretty different characters, just like Jp!Effie and "I love to eat"!Effie.
Of course sometimes there will be misinformation (remember the Dimitri is rude because he uses the omae pronoun?), but I still find fascinating how, faced with ridiculous lolcalisations, fandom itself - aka part of the people who were supposed to be the targets of said lolcalisation - tries to "correct" and remove the unecessary edits. There are still people who dgaf about what was lolcalised from what wasn't, but even if it's just a consequence of the lolcalisation growing more and more unrestrained/unchained to the source material - it makes fandom engagment all the more precious and fascinating.
Like, you have real people basically combing the script and/or providing a translation - for free! - to help other fans, when some lolcalisers are paid to... edit and "lolcalise" the script some fans want to see.
And so, we're back to square 1 : who is the targeted audience of Funi's Shinchan or FE Treehouse?
The players/watchers?
FE Fates was, I suppose, ultimately lolcalised for a """western"" audience", aka an US one because no one gives a fuck about the rest of the world - and yet, assuming a majority of fans are from the US, said lolcalisation was mocked/ridiculed and ultimateld decried by part of that audience from who the game was lolcalised.
Some people (I've seen a redshit post about it today!) claim the lolcalised changed aren't made for the audience, but, much like a fanfiction, those changed weren't made to be more palatable to an audience, but were made for themselves - aka to push some agenda (see redshit's theory about funi pushing a "woke" agenda in their dubs and subs when it doesn't exist in the og scripts).
And to be fair, with FE16's US exclusive "Church BaD and controls the world!!!" + "Dimtri is not a man but a monster!", idk what Treehouse was trying to do, push their "organised religions BaD" agenda and "Supreme Leader is right so let's make her opponents BaD to highlight how right she is" bias? - but I can't help but wonder if it was indeed the case, and given how Pat sucked as a voice director, if the localised!version wasn't just some sort of trolley Treehouse used to convey their ideas, regardless of what the game wanted to say.
I mean, it's still fascinating, to this day, nearly 5 years after the release of the game, that we still find "Treehouse exclusive" lines, or how FEH who's still running, also has "Treehouse exclusive" lines for Fodlan characters that absolutely don't match the non global, aka, jp lines, let them be written or spoken - putting on the tinfoil hat, I wonder if Treehouse or whoever oversees the localisation isn't deadly afraid that if they don't pay extreme attention and/or rewrite anything related to Fodlan, global!players will realise that they were fed "Pat's Fire Emblem Treehouse", instead of FE16, thus takes extra care to comb and/or rewritte every line/dialogue that could make a global player think twice and note that this thing they're reading/hearing of in FEH (or even Engage!! See Dimitri's lolcalised line about people of different races living together!) is completely different from "Pat's Fire Emblem Treehouse".
Tl;Dr because I ranted and disgressed and idk where am I anymore with this post lol :
I think there's a difference between fandom's transformative works - done for fun, as a hobby! - and some lolcaliser's transformative works - they're paid for that and aren't supposed to bring a fanfiction to the audience, at least not as localisers ; so I wouldn't blame "fandom" for the fuckery that happened (Funi's shinchan is more than 17 years old!) and is sadly still happening.
On the contrary, given how fandom (at least some part of it) actively refuses to accept the lolcalised "fanfiction" - to the point of doing translation work! - I think fandom is the reason why this discourse is happening.
#anon#replies#sorry i ranted lol#and lost myself in localisation discussion lol#anyways that redshit thread had a meme about lolcalisation and using AI to push back against it#and I haven't changed my mind lol#AI sucks instead of letting Pat head Treehouse bring back human translators and people in general with a work ethic#who will localise what needs to be localised for an audience#but keep themselves and their messages/agenda out of their work#as much as possible of course#i wonder if at times all those lolcalised changes couldn't be sued for plagiarism#imagine if the french Snow White dub had her diss cream cheese to promote real cheese during the length of the movie#people would be pissed just like creators themselves#otoh if those ultra lolcalised changes passed the approval stage from the creator themselves...#then I'm just wondering what kind of idea they have of a 'western audience' or whoever the lolcaliser#said they were lolcalising for#Are we supposed to believe in 2015 IS really believed americans were too dumb to pronounce suzukaze so his name should be shortened to kaze#I say americans here because NoA exists when NoE doesn't and no one gives a fuck about us we're just eating scraps#idk#lolcalisation issues#real life issues#when you were saying calculated and cynical anon did you mean whedonspeak like the Supreme Replies#aka giving a witty one liner to sound cool?#I'm afraid I completely lost the message of your ask and replied with something compeltely unrelated :(
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tinyagitator · 11 months
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Okay so @scordoesart posted a lovely Bellhands thing the other day and I got thinking again, which can either be fun, or lead to sheer madness and brainrot and this is the brainrot kind of thinking apparently. So I had to write it down and regain some semblance of sanity again.
So, Bellhands is all well and good (and honestly, probably the most likely option for Izzy's long lost boyfriend please cast Matt Berry as Sam, he is so perfect), but then I doodled a little piratey dude the other day, thought he looked like he could be a good boyfriend for Izzy, but he didn't feel like Bellamy to me, and then I thought
Blackbeard is a pirate with a bloody reputation, but a soft side for his beloved.
You know you else had a big, nasty, bloodthirsty reputation?
Charles Vane
Hear me out:
In history, Vane got started sailing around the same time as Stede and Blackbeard under Henry Jennings, and pretty quickly made a name for himself and gained a reputation for like, torturing captured crews, and being the "leave none alive, show no mercy" sort of pirate captain.
So if Vane is a big name in the pirate world, why wouldn't Izzy hear that name and go "that's my boyfriend! He's alive!"
Some pirates likely changed their names to protect their family's reputation, so maybe when they were younger, Izzy didn't know him as Charles Vane?
From what I skimmed on Wikipedia, Vane didn't sail with Hornigold, but we're history inspired here, not completely accurate. I read somewhere that Taika said he read like 4 sentences of the Blackbeard Wikipedia page and decided to just wing it from there, so if it's good enough for Taika, it's good enough for me
So, what if he did? What if he sailed with Hornigold and company under his legal name, and then later changed it to Vane when he started building his own piratey reputation?
Some time after Blackbeard gets to captain his own ship, something happens and Charles gets separated from the crew (arrested? Falls overboard and picked up by a different ship? Idk, something) and Izzy thinks his boyfriend is dead
Maybe Charles has some connections somewhere and talks his way out of being hanged for crimes of piracy, but has a hard time getting back out to sea for some reason. Eventually he does get away and back out to sea where he meets Jennings, and somewhere down the road, he gets to captain his own ship and goes off to try to reunite with Izzy and company.
(side note: at least according to Wikipedia, he sailed on The Lark, The Ranger, The Katherine, and a different ship called The Ranger. Hornigold also had a ship called the Ranger, so there's the basis for my half-assed 'Vane used to sail with Hornigold' theory. I’ve also decided that his ship the Katherine is named after someone he knows. A beloved little sister, maybe?)
Historically, Vane and Calico Jack sailed together for a time. Per Wikipedia, Jack was Vane's quartermaster, and later became captain after voting Vane out of his captaincy. Again, vaguely historically inspired, my vision of Vane (fairly level-headed and laid back, but prone to bursts of anger and murder) probably doesn't like wild, rambunctious Jack too much, and maybe only briefly reunited with him prior to ep 8. So maybe when Charles reunites with Blackbeard and Izzy, there can be a "why the FUCK didn't Jack tell you I've been looking for you, I'm gonna fuckin kill him" moment
Maybe Vane got his violent reputation while looking for Izzy. I'm picturing like, Vane shows up in the republic of pirates, asks about Blackbeard, and the guys there are like "oh yeah he was here like a week ago, you just missed him. No idea where he fucked off to this time", and he starts taking out his frustration on captured ships because his former shipmates are just always slightly out of reach. Or maybe gossip spreads about Ed and Stede taking the act of grace, and Vane starts getting extra passionate about hunting English ships, hoping to find Blackbeard on one of them and reunite with his old friend?
how did Izzy and Charles end up together in the first place? Still working out the details on that one, but it's coming together, just slowly
This may turn into a actual fic some day (probably not, I have no time, nor am I good with words) but for now it's just a jumbly, scrambly list of half-formed ideas that need to be dealt with eventually
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bbyquokka · 2 years
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I’m sorry, I love you
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💔 pairing: Lee Know & f!reader
💔 genre: angst (break up)
💔 synopsis: lee know adopted a new lifestyle, leaving you exhausted and causing you to leave him. Months later, you rekindle. 
💔 warnings: explicit language, drunk, slight mentions of sex, feelings of heartbreak, upset, reader struggling to do every day stuff.
💔 words: 2.7k
💔 a/n: idk what to say tbh. i wanted to write a little bit of angst so tada! i have a few ideas in my notes on my phone for each of the members that i will come to soon tm. this fic is the only one thats angst rn so i wanted to get that out off the way, lol. ive come to the conclusion that i suck at writing endings and dialog 😶 I have one more fic that i will be posting in a few days. its someone birthday coming up so theres a big hint of who is next.🤐  also, thank you all for the love on Stormy Night! i wasnt expecting such a positive response so ty all for the likes, reblogs and hello to my new followers. I hope you will all continue to like my content. Feedback is welcome, If ive missed anything in the warnings, lmk!!  ty all so so much and enjoy! 🥰
💔: master list
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since you was little, you always dreamed of having a perfect relationship. You saw them all the time, on tv, in magazines, in books. the male would make the female swoon with various actives and words. watching the perfect couples meet and rekindle their love for one another made you want something like that.
entering your teen years, you dated various people, some from the opposite sex, some of the same, it didn't matter to you, you was curious and on the hunt for that fairy-tale dream of yours. to your disappointment, neither of them filled that desire buried deep within. you was close to giving up, entering early adulthood, before one trip to your local café changed your life forever.
you finally met 'the one'. he made you feel like you was a princess, his everything. he did everything that you saw and read. you went on spontaneous dates, he'd surprise you with gifts, pamper you and tell you many sweet things that made your heart flutter and fill your stomach with butterflies. over time, you fell madly and deeply in love with him. After all this time, you finally thought you met the one, you could end this endless search for Mr. Perfect and live happily ever after, just like in the movies. However, this fairy-tale was destined to be doomed.
Wednesday morning, 1:20am. you was wide awake, sitting at the dining table, picking and shuffling your food around with your fork. Your shared apartment was dimly lite with a few lamps and candles that rested in their holders on the dining table. A bottle of half empty red wine stood next to it, with two wine glasses, one half full whilst you was on your third or fourth glass. the table was decorated with fake rose petals, both plates of food untouched and stone cold. You was dressed in your best dress, hair done up and face decorated with make up. You sighed, putting your fork down and lifting the glass to your lips, sipping your wine, the rim of the glass stained with your lipstick. looking over at the clock, you bit your lip, anger slowly pooling and working its way up.
your apartment door opened, laughter filling the not-so-silent apartment. you clenched your jaw, putting down your glass as your lover made his way to the living room.
"(Y/N)!! Where are youuuuu." He sang and laughed more, making his way to the dining room. "Ah! there you are!" much to your displeasure, you looked up at him, rolling your eyes. unfortunately, this scene wasn't new to you, in fact, it started to happen on a daily basis since he got introduced to some new friends.
"You're drunk. again." you replied coldly, face showing no emotions as you looked at him.
"Uh, yeahh. just a bit." he giggled, childishly. he looked around, noticing the dining table and the food. "What's the special occasion?"
You scoffed, standing up from your seat. "you seriously don't know what the date was? what we planned on doing?" Minho scratched his head, pretending to think before saying it was Wednesday and that yesterday was Tuesday. you clenched your jaw once again, tongue in cheek.
"You're such an idiot, Minho. you seriously don't remember what we planned, what the date was. what YOU promised to me?" Minho looked at you blankly, blinking several times before shrugging. you ran your fingers through your hair, you could feel your body getting hot with anger.
"Anniversary Minho. it was our fucking anniversary and you promised me that we would do something together!" he continued to blink, giving you the indication that he didn't care.
"okay. and?" you looked at him in disbelief.
"and?! is that all you have to say to me? not even a sorry or even a fucking excuse? you could act like you cared!" Minho sighed in annoyance, becoming sober pretty quickly once he realised that you two was going to have yet another argument.
"Look. its just another day. no big deal. we will do something tomorrow if that'll make you happy. damn, you never let me do anything anymore. you're so suffocating sometimes, (Y/N)" he tutted. you felt hot tear welling up in your eyes. blinking furiously to stop them from falling, you felt your heart shatter into a million and one pieces.
"I don't let you do anything?! you're delusional and thick, Minho! the past months, I've let you get away with bullshit like this. Numerous plans we made together, forgotten because of this frat boy lifestyle you suddenly have! You'd rather be with them than with me?"
Minho shrugged and nodded. "Yeah, because they're fun and i have a swell time with them. you - you just suck the life and energy out off me with your constant nagging. you only come to me for my dick anyways"
you laughed, walking up to him, suddenly feeling a wave of confidence flow through you. you looked him dead in the eyes.
"Please Hun. Your dick isn't that great. i get more pleasure with a plastic toy than with that -" you gestured towards his dick before continuing "thing." Minho erupted into fits of giggles.
"Good joke, (Y/N). but we both know who's name you're crying out when i fuck you raw. anyways, you would never leave me."
"Wouldn't i? and why is that?" you raised your brow.
"A, you love my cock too much, no matter how many times you deny it. you'll keep running back to me just for me to fuck that pussy of yours. and B, you don't have the balls to leave me." he crossed his arms across his chest, thinking he won and got the upper hand.
you, on the other hand, scoffed, before turning on your heal towards your bedroom. you picked your already packed bag and made your way to the door. Minho was watching you and as soon as he saw your bag, his face fell.
"wait, where are you going??" he rushed to you, panicked, as you was putting on your shoes and a jacket. you looked at him, your energy drained and heart broken. but you didn't allow him to see that, instead you carried on your tough demine and swallowed your tears down.
"I'm leaving you." you replied bluntly, shrugging. you looked at his shocked face, indicating that he didn't anticipate for this day to come, neither of you did. "Still don't think i have the balls to do it? well, here i am, leaving your drunken ass. I hope your frat boy lifestyle was worth it, because you just lost the best thing that's ever happened to you."
with that, you grabbed your things, walking out off the apartment, leaving a stunned and broken Minho behind.
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it had been a few months since that day. neither of you contacted one another. you wanted to, looking at his contact, finger hovering over the call icon before coming to the conclusion that he should make the first move. you was constantly making the first move in the relationship, after every argument you was always the first one to talk it out, apologise and suggest ways in how to fix it. this time, you wanted him to prove that he loved you like he claimed he did and contact you first. He never did. Probably too caught up in that ridiculous lifestyle to even give you a second thought.
you took a sip of your coffee, deep in thought. you was at your local café, sitting in your usual spot by the window, sipping and eating your usual beverage and snack. you was so deep in thought that you didn't realise someone had walked up to your table until they cleared their throat. you looked up, eyes going wide, heart hammering in your chest, emotions flooding back to you as you looked at him.
"Minho.." you swallowed as he gave you a small smile. he pointed to the seat asking if it was taken. he sat facing you when you said it was free.
"Hey. long time, no see." he placed his hands on his lap, nervous.
"Yeah, 2 and a half months to be exact." he nodded, aware that you had been keeping track. your voice laced with upset and bitterness. You took this time to check him out. Nothing much had changed, he still looked handsome as ever with the only noticeable change he had was his hair. "Nice hair, purples a good colour on you. suits you well."
he smiled at your compliment, hand automatically reaching to his hair, running his fingers through it.
"Ah, this is nothing. fancied a change. but you look well too." he smiled at you as you scoffed.
"Please. todays the first day since the break up i’ve had energy to get dressed and go out. Amazing what heart break does to you. thought i was going to become one with my bed at some point." you let out a forced laugh as Minho looked down at his lap.
"Where are you staying?"
"My mothers." Minho cringed a little as you hummed at the mutual reaction. "Yeahh. i called my friend first, she said she had enough of me bitching and whining about you. told me to figure it out on my own. so it was either sleep on the streets or go to my mothers. lets just say she was overjoyed to learn that we broke up."
You mother never liked Minho, called him bad news and a heartbreaker. She didn't support your relationship, but you being the stubborn person you are, stuck with it, claiming you could make it work which just infuriated your mother more. So the day she learned that you two broke up, she was audibly overjoyed, talking bad about him to you, her friends, anyone who would care to listen. It hurt your ego to know that your mother was always right. She wasn't the best help in helping you heal either. Soon, you didn't see the point and spent the majority of your time in your bedroom, rotting away.
The air was thick with awkwardness between you and Minho. You looked down at your coffee, heart still hammering in your chest. Thoughts swimming around in your head, questions you wanted to ask but was scared to.
"Im sorry." you blinked, looking up. His eyes were glossy with tears, his bunny teeth chewing away at his bottom lip as he picked the skin around his nails. He was nervous, you could see that, but he was sincere. You felt a lump in your throat, tears also filling up you eyes. You smiled sadly at him
"Thank you." you looked down again.
"Are you -" Minho audibly swallowed before continuing "are you not going to shout at me, be mad at me? i hurt you in the worse way possible. and just to clarify, i don't do that shit no more. i haven't since you left. i cut all contact with them and well, focused on myself to become a better person. A better person for you, (Y/N)" He went to take your hand in his which caused you to move your hand away. Minho nodded, acknowledge that it was too soon for you. After a few minutes of thinking what to respond with, you breathed out softly before speaking.
"I've spent months being mad at you. During the relationship and after. I've spent days, rotting in my bed, crying until my eyes are sore and i have nothing left in me. You was the best and worse thing to ever happen to me, Minho. You're a blessing and a curse at the same time. During the relationship, i always wondered if it was me. If i was the problem. if i was doing something that caused you to hate me so much. but as time went on, i realised it wasn't me, it was you." Minho nodded, listening carefully.
"I'm sorry i made you feel like that. it was never my intention, i was stupid and selfish to realise what i was doing and when i realised, it was too late. the damage was already done.."
"The funny thing is, it was like i was grieving for you. I mean, i guess i was. I lost my best friend, my second half. I was grieving for a relationship that we could've had. But you wanna know what the worse thing is?" You pressed your lips together in a thin line, allowing your tears to fall freely as you looked at Minho, eyes also filling up
"I thought i was getting over you. i thought i was healing, but its like my brain tricked me somehow. Because here you are, in the flesh and everytime i look at your handsome, stupid face, i fall in love with you all over again and i hate myself for that. I hate how, i cant get over you. How i cant hate you because i still love you so much!" You grabbed a napkin, wiping away your eyes and nose. Heartbreak was evident in your voice as you spilled out your emotions and thoughts to the man in front of you. You sobbed at how after all this time of what you thought was healing, you was back at square one, wondering if you was ever going to be able to get over him
Minho had tears falling down his cheeks, quickly wiping them away as he listened to his ex and the woman he still loves, express her feelings. His heart was breaking, shattering. He wanted to hold you close to him, comfort you and tell you that its different this time, but he knew that you wouldn't allow that. 2 and a half months was visibly not enough time for you. You took a deep breath, calming your breathing before continuing.
"I tried, i tried so hard to get over you and, like i said, i thought i was. but looking back, maybe i was just tricking myself this whole time. No matter how many times i opened up my photo album on my phone to delete the pictures of us together, i just couldn't because they hold special memories to me. God! i hate this so much. I still love you, Minho and it fucking sucks!" You laughed sadly as Minho did the same.
"Im so so so sorry (Y/N) if i could go back and change, i would! i know its hard to believe when the person who claims they love you, hurts you but i really, truly loved you and i still do!" You smiled softly at him, acknowledging that he was genuine and was evident that he had changed. he had become the man you fell in love with all them months ago.
Pressing his lips together, he fumbled with his jacket before asking "Should we try again..?" You bit your lip, thinking carefully about it.
"I would love to Minho. But-" He looked up at you, hopeful "But not right now. If we get back together, we have to start over again, start fresh, get to know one another again because right now, it feels like we are strangers. I need to see that you have changed, i need you to prove it because i really cannot be bothered to go through all this again."
Minho nodded, a smile creeping up on his face. "Okay, i can do that! Then, lets start again, start fresh."
you smiled softly, a genuine smile since you two rekindled. Standing up from your seat, you walked over to his side.
"I have to go. errands to run, y'know. But uh, text me, yeah?"
"I will. i'll text and call you. im determined to make this work, for us." He looked up at you, taking your hand into his. this time you allowed it to happen, feeling his soft and warm hands against yours. Your stomach doing front and back flip, heart beating hard against your ribcage, skin burning up from his touch.
"I'll speak to you later then." you bent down, kissing his cheek softly before standing up, cheeks pink. "I love you."
You turned on your heel, making way for the exit. as you opened the door, you heard Minho's "I love you too" making you feel warm and fuzzy inside.
Maybe you could have your fairy-tale love story after all.
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max1461 · 1 year
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.
not feeling super ok right now.
no sleep, eating weird, still have this bad toothache
still struggling with pandemic-induced brain badness and it's impacting my ability to be normal at this grad program. like I'm mostly getting the work done just fine but I missed a lot of class last quarter and had no social life because it's basically a nightmare to get myself out of the house. also have completely lost my ability to focus on anything so homework takes like 3-4 times as long as it did in undergrad. just fucking miserable still to do everyday normal tasks, even though it's probably two orders of magnitude less intense than a year ago
increasingly worried I will never talk to [person] again, or at least never in a meaningful way, which kind of makes me want to die die die die die.
literally 1 irl friend who I talk to on a weekly-ish basis, rest of my irl friends are just, idk, otherwise preoccupied...
just so not myself due to the brain badness, just can barely get out the door so I always feel like shit and I look like shit. trying to work out again but it's so fucking hard. just feel like shit look like shit. dating app profiles using 4 year old pictures now which is probably, like, deceptive or something. whatever, not like I'm actually gonna meet any of those people anyway
and then last week I learn that my dog has cancer and I just genuinely felt like I wouldn't be able to live any longer. idk. luckily I guess the prognosis seems to be not too bad, and she's very old already, so the vet said it may not shorten her life expectancy. which basically means, well...
literally if she passes away I would like to vanish out of existence please.
idk why I'm even posting this. it's none of anybody's business. just feel like I'm going to explode if I don't tell someone.
I'll be fine don't worry about me. I am not going to kill myself because I have various commitments and loyalties remaining here on earth. but I may be 90% zombie at this point and feel like I could become 100% zombie any day. whatever.
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patamon · 1 year
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tagged by @komawo THANK YOU SM, I am soooo honoured to be included and I’m so sorry for the delays!!!! And omg of course you fit into the Tumblr community, I can’t believe you would even question this! 
hot or cold shower: hot shower, my self-care practice is to drench myself in a hot shower and question all my choices in life
texting or calling: calling, so I think working from home has really soured my attitude towards texting or any text-related form of communication like emails, chats, etc...I can’t begin to tally the time and energy wasted on the back-and-forths, the typos, the waiting for people to respond, the misinterpretations and misunderstandings, the passive aggressive tension...like honestly, just press the little phone icon on MS Teams and we can resolve this 3-day email chain in 10-minutes, it’s not that hard.
earbuds or headphones: earbuds, got my first Air Pods this year and I’m not going back!!! If you have an iPhone, nothing will make more sense than Air Pods, I promise you.
paperback or hardcover: paperback, there’s something very nostalgic about the feel of a paperback book in my hand. It takes me back to a simpler and more innocent time, where all your life’s toughest questions could be answered in a satisfying concluding chapter of the book you’ve been working through.
More below the cut (because this got kinda long lol)...
matte or gel: I have no idea what this is referring to but my mind went to nails…like gel nails or the….other type idk. So my answer is idk...
12 hr clock or 24 hr clock: 12 hour, 24-hour clock is too complicated for my brain
blue or green: blue, favourite colour 💙 Only reason why I picked Team Mystic in PoGo
sunsets or sunrises: I wish I could say both but am I ever up to actually see a sunrise? 🤣
tulips or orchids: orchids, I grew up with orchids all around me. Even now, there are orchids everywhere in our abode because my mother loves tending to them. It’s actually kinda cute to see her tend to her hobby.
candle light or moonlight: moonlight 🌝 not only is moonlight prettier, but it doesn’t stoke my anxiety and give me constant fear that everything in my home would be burned down lol
sci-fi or horror: sci-fi, me and my anxiety cannot handle horror anything, nope.
pen or pencil: pen, I WANT TO MARK THAT SHIT DOWN IN PERMANENCE! Plus, I love Muji pens
pandas or koalas: pandas, #teambamboo
gold or silver: gold, it pops more when I incorporate gold into any projects I’m working on, silver kinda blends into the background, unless I’m using a dark background but I rare use dark backgrounds.
sneakers or boots: sneakers, comfy and practical 😊
denim or leather jacket: neither because they’re both uncomfortable, but out of the two, I would say denim
pink or purple: pink, esp pastel pink
choco or sour candy: sour candy, I used to hate sour, but the older I get, the more I crave sour things. I don’t know what that means…am I Hydrogen ion deficient or something?
deodorant or perfume: perfume, deodorant makes my skin feel all weird. Maybe I’m allergic
drive-in theater or cinema: cinema, I do miss going to the movies. I haven’t been as often since COVID lockdown and would really like to go back on a regular basis. Also, I’ve never been to a drive-in theatre but imagine it would be too distracting with everything around me. I really want to immerse myself in the movie….that’s why I enjoy going to the cinema a lot
pastel blue or earth tones: pastel blue, favourite colour pt. 2 💙 💙
lemonade or fruit juice: lemonade, goes back to my sour thing
past or future: As cliché as it sounds, I do try my best to live in the present so…neither?
Tagging @tangledupblue, @digitalworldbound, @reliablejoukido, @sluggybasson107, @places-people, @ri-ships-takari, @stoppingtosmelltheflowers, @ahiddenpath, @tohjofalls, @animegenork
and anyone else who wants to do this!
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