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#just to be clear I love most of the ''weird'' ones
lymtw · 1 day
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Thinking about those soft, nonsexual, intimate moments where you and Toji are lying in bed, with you on top of him. You're straddling him and your arms are thrown over his shoulders, clinging onto him like a little koala. Your face is buried into his neck and your eyes are shut as you bask in the warmth of his body.
"What's wrong, babe?" He asks, letting his arms come up to rest on your back. Having Toji's arms around you was like leaving every bad thing you've ever experienced, behind. He radiated the warmth of a thousand suns, and it soothed you like nothing else.
You didn't respond to his question, instead your lips pressed to his neck, brushing against him with the gentleness of a light breeze. You're smart enough to know that if you kiss him too hard, it'll start a fire in a moment where one isn't necessary.
He's smiling, softly, at your sign of affection. His palms rub your back, comfortingly, with little to no pressure. Toji is all for having sex with you, all the time and anytime. He's well versed in this method of intimacy with you, but he's not an emotionless machine. He recognizes well enough when you need more than an orgasm. He understands that you have a heart, and sometimes it needs to be tended to, regardless of whether it's damaged or not. Sometimes you just want to feel loved, and when times like these are presented to him, who is he to ridicule you for needing him?
He chuckles, softly. "Just wanna love on me, don't you, baby?"
His hands lower to the hem of your shirt, sliding beneath it to get to the warmth of your bare skin. The tranquilizing motions on your back return.
"Just need you to be with me, right now," you mumble into his neck. "I know this probably seems weird, but I just wanna stay like this for a while."
"Shh... you're alright, my sweet girl. We can be quiet for a bit."
You go back to lazily kissing his neck. You can feel his heartbeat thrumming against your lips, a rhythm that makes your own heart start to pick up that same pace. You take a deep breath and slowly let it out, pausing your movements to appreciate the distinct smell of his cologne. It makes you want to squeeze him until he can't breathe, or at least attempt to squeeze him that hard.
"Toji," you say, quietly, like you're saying it to yourself.
"Hm?" He responds, stilling his hands.
"Nothing. Just wanted to say your name. I like saying your name."
Another laugh rumbles through his chest, the movement shaking you a little. "It's yours to say."
"Can I keep saying it? Until it doesn't sound like a name anymore?"
He smiles, pulling one hand out of your shirt to place it on the nape of your neck. "By all means. Don't need my permission."
You giggle, the sound so clear beneath Toji's ear. If he had the warmth of a thousand suns, you had the beauty of the night's guiding moon.
"Toji," you say, softly. After every repetition of his name, you ghost your lips all over his neck. Toji thinks he could stay like this for longer than a bit. He feels at ease, knowing you're there, acting as his most cherished blanket. He feels so light, like he's not even in his body anymore. You don't even know how happy he is. You can't see the soft smile on his face and how it's failing to disappear.
"Toji," you repeated one last time.
He had lost track of how many times you said his name, but not once did he get tired of hearing it. He wanted to answer your call, this time. "Yeah, baby?"
"Love you."
In all your gentleness and loving, you offered him serenity, and he enveloped himself in it. If your love could be bottled, he would live off of it. He would cook it into his every day meals. He would blend it into his protein shakes. He would bathe in it. He would mix it with his cologne. He would live off of it like it's the secret to a life spent with you loving him the way you do. So what if he's addicted? It seems like the perfect way to go.
Toji could hear your light breathing. You stopped kissing him, and your arms went limp on his shoulders. You fell asleep. It was a common occurrence whenever you shared moments like these with him. It was the security, and his embrace, and his warmth, and his scent... all things that made you feel safe enough to doze off.
He pressed multiple quick kisses to your temple. Both of his arms returned to your torso, wrapping around it with a slightly tighter hold than before. "Love you, too, mama," he muttered against your temple. He ended up falling asleep to the sound of your breathing.
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princessbrunette · 1 day
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stepbro!jj 😩😩😩😩 i’d be playing footsies with him at the breakfast table in the morning, acting all coy like he didn’t bend me over his bed last night
i rlly love the idea of reader being the horny sick n twisted one whilst jj is trying desperately to cling onto his morality <333:
•⑅♡⑅•⑅♡⑅•⑅♡⑅•⑅♡⑅•
jj was not nonchalant by any stretch of the word, but now sat at the breakfast table — your cunt still aching from the way he’d fucked you through the night, he was seeming to play it incredibly cool and collected. no trace of a knowing smile or secretive glances, just his regular behaviour, sat reclined in his seat wearing his usual get up and a backwards hat. the dismissal would have maybe hurt if it wasn’t turning you on a little.
“i’m headin’ downtown for that AA meetin’. load of horse shit but ‘least i’m tryin’.” luke maybank chats as he messily spreads butter on his toast at the counter, taking a moment to lick some off his thumb. your mother is also rushing around the kitchen ready to head out on her own shift at work— you’re avoiding eye contact with her the most, more shameful of the acts you’d commit under the shared roof only a few hours prior.
“well, we are all proud anyways.” she praises, looking around at you and jj for contribution. you nod, and jj clears his throat, shuffling closer to the table opposite you on his chair.
“yeah, real proud pops.” you can tell it’s difficult for him to say from the way he looks down at his food as he says it.
“don’t get sappy on me, squirt.” luke’s words come muffled through a cheekful of toast, and soon your mother begins to fire overbearing questions at him about the recovery course he’s taking. as they talk, you zone out — eyes flickering to jj who is spooning up soggy cereal onto a spoon.
things felt very familial during moments like this. the whole family going about their regular morning routines, jj and yourself sat opposite at the table like a regular old brother and sister duo. you knew you were sick in the head from wanting your step brother in the first place, and now you were secretly fucking him — the idea that he was able to sit opposite you without a soul knowing he was balls deep earlier on was turning you on once more.
you glance over at luke and your mother, seeing them wrapped up in their own conversations — and you toe at the entrance of jj’s jeans, running your foot along the inner side of his calf. when he looks up at you through a heavy brow, cheek still full with cereal you can tell he’s warning you to stop — but knowing he couldn’t verbally express this, and that any vision of your feet was obstructed by the long gingham table cloth — you felt obliged to continue. no one even notices when jj winces and you giggle, too stuck in their own conversation.
you manage to stretch your leg to get your foot in his lap, briefly rubbing at his cock before he grips your ankle and throws it off him, angrily licking his lips and tensing his jaw, doing a double take at the parents when they turn their heads, the attention attracted by your whiny and dramatic ‘ow!’
luke scoffs out a laugh, walking towards the kitchen exit, shaking his head and spitting into a tin waste bin by the door. you truly wondered what your mother saw in him. “kids, huh. who’d have ‘em.” he comments before exiting, making jj cringe at the general insinuation that the two of you were in any way related, or kids.
your mother is quick to follow, barely sparing the two of you a glance. “i can drop you off some lunch if you’re going to be all day, i finish early and —” her voice trails off before the two of you hear her yell out a goodbye to you and the door closes. jj barely waits for them to be gone to push heavily out of his chair, letting it scrape on the floor and wander over to your side, gripping your jaw from where he stands beside your seat, forcing you to look up at him.
“do you think this is funny? like — i’m almost certain you got some weird fetish for wanting to be caught but i don’t, alright — quit bein’ so obvious.” he scolds before letting you go, quickly lifting his hat to run a hand through his hair as he wanders to the counter to cool off and pour himself a coffee. he was already dressed, set to meet the pogues a little later whilst you wandered around in tiny pyjama shorts and a thin tank top that made him wanna slap you.
you giggle despite his sternness and push out your chair to follow him, poking him in the back as you speak. “oh c’mon jayj, s’just a little fun. no one noticed anyway. you’re acting like i got under the table n’made out with your dick. not a bad idea for next time actually.” you muse jokingly and he all but slams his coffee mug back down to whip around to face you.
“y’know i can just like, confiscate everything i’ve been doin’ for you. s’not hard to find pussy, and if you wanna keep actin’ like an actual annoying little sister i’m gunna start treating you like one.” he ticks his head, squinting in irritation and your eyes widen in faux offence and fear.
“aw, don’t do that to me jj. i thought you liked playing with me.” you pout, and oddly — despite knowing you were playing games with him, it makes him soften the tiniest bit, shoulders falling a centimetre or so.
“well, look— i do…” he rolls his eyes and you smile. taking your hands, you push your tits together, looking up at him with mocking babydoll eyes.
“yeah, just like playing with your lil sis too much, huh?” you coo and he yanks your hands off yourself, tongue in his cheek — clearly losing his patience a little.
“nah, keep it up. you’re not getting shit from me anymore i’m dead serious.” he raises his voice a little, that southern twang jumping out a little extra and you giggle elatedly at the threat. you spin around, pressing your ass to his crotch and looking over your shoulder.
“nuh-uh, you like this view too much.” you tease before your jaw drops, mocking quiet ‘uh-uh-uh-uh’ moans as you repeatedly thump your ass against him, the blonde watching with a deadpan, unimpressed expression and arms folded over his chest. he goes to say something, but the sudden banging of the front door closing wipes the amused expression off your face quicker than he can and you jump up straight, looking like a deer caught in headlights when your mother walks back through the door.
“forgot my keys.” she shakes her head before her eyes land on the two of you standing near eachother, jj looking smug and you looking guilty. “everything… okay?” she raises an eyebrow at the weird atmosphere.
“yes! yeah everything’s fine.” you squeak, sounding oh so innocent and afraid. jj snorts, turning back around to the counter and continuing to pour his coffee.
“well alright, see you guys later.” she smiles before disappearing once more, leaving you looking bashful.
once she’s gone, jj glances over his shoulder at you and pouts, barely concealing his grin.
“aw, that scare ‘ya, lil sis?”
•⑅♡⑅•⑅♡⑅•⑅♡⑅•⑅♡⑅•
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yeonzzzn · 3 days
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hihi!! perhaps mayhaps enhypen ot6 (still kinda feel weird reading smut on ni-ki 😀⁉️) catching yn masturbating to them (e.g. sees yn with a photo of them or like ,, yn moaning out their name,etc)
i’m gonna write this as hyung line since it’s who I mostly write smut for, hope that’s okay! and yeah no I won’t ever write smut for niki. it’s never happening 🙅🏻‍♀️
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‎‧₊˚✧[ HEESEUNG ]✧˚₊‧
he would be completely floored. homie would be minding his business, playing a round of LOL with his friends and swearing up and down he kept hearing his name being called. eventually removing one of the earmuffs from his ear to be correct, he was hearing his name being called, coming from you more specifically.
heeseung would quickly stand up and make his way to your room filled with worry thinking something was wrong. but would stop dead in his tracks seeing your bedroom door is cracked open and hearing your lewd sounds coming from the other side of the door. heeseung would peak inside, carefully pushing the door open to seeing you sprawled out on your bed, legs spread so wide and your fingers pumping in and out of your wet cunt quickly, heeseung’s name spilling from your lips in gasped moans, chanting it over and over. heeseung would get hard immediately, his face and ears turning a bright red. loving how you look as you moan out his name. it’s clear that you want him, and oh god he wanted you too. heeseung could interrupt right now, but deciding against it. you looked way to sexy to him to just stop you. heeseung would lean against the doorframe and pull his shorts down past his hips until his hard cock was set free, his hand pumping himself to the same rhythm as your fingers pushing in and out of you. he would eventually lose himself, letting out gasped moans of your name, nearly scaring you to death after finally noticing him, your door now wide open as heeseung slid to the floor, resting his back to your bedroom wall, “don’t stop baby,” he groans, “keep touching yourself for me, I’m so close…please. wanna see you cum with me.” how could you say no?
‎‧₊˚✧[ JAY ]✧˚₊‧
jay wouldn’t be shocked at all most since he would always walk around your shared apartment without a shirt on, always making you so weak in the knees for your roommate. mostly after he finishes showering and has his hair all wet and sticking to his forehead with nothing covering him but a thin towel and seeing the outline of his cock as he quickly walks to his bedroom to get dressed. how could you not touch yourself after seeing that? mostly when it’s a daily occurrence in this apartment. hell, one time he walked back to the bathroom and tied the towel just below his hips to quickly slick his hair back and left the bathroom door open…how could you not snap a quick pic with your phone? it was a godly sight. one to burn into your memory. so obviously you’d use that photo to masturbate in the safety of your room…when jay wasn’t home. except one day he came home early and you didn’t hear him walk in. you left your door wide open, being completely naked on your bed and legs spread apart as your fingers pushed inside you, your free hand holding your phone with the photo of jay and you moaning out his name. of course jay hearing this peaked his curiosity, him snooping to your bedroom and seeing the sight before him, eyes glueing to your slick that spilled from your cunt and pooling at your sheets, eyes eventually moving up to your naked body and then seeing the photo of your phone. you nearly jumped out your skin at feeling jay’s hand wrap around your wrist. he smirked at you, “why did you stop? go on, continue. had no problem fucking yourself to a half naked photo of me, might as well do it with me right here.” jay pinned your hand down to your bed, his free hand shoving down his shorts and taking his cock in hand, “come on now pretty, don’t stop.” you obeyed.
‎‧₊˚✧[ JAKE ]✧˚₊‧
homie wouldn’t know what to do after catching you. he’d be so embarrassed for snooping on you time and time again after the first time but not being able to get enough of hearing how beautifully his name slid from between your lips as you touch yourself. jake would lean against the wall outside your room and fuck up into his fist, biting his tongue to keep from screaming out your name. eventually jake wouldn’t be able to keep quiet anymore, needing to physically see you fuck yourself instead of just hearing it through the thin wall between your two bedrooms or outside your door. jake would be so far gone that he wouldn’t think twice from standing up off the floor and quickly opening your bedroom door, loving that the first thing he sees is your cunt on full display for him, your fingers knuckles deep inside. you’d quickly try and cover yourself, ready to yell at him for being such a pervert until he rushes in and lays down beside you, already making work of pushing off his jeans and positioning his cock in hand, “masturbate with me honey,” he says, making direct eye contact, “you had zero problem moaning my name for weeks. I wanna hear you scream my name as you cum, I’ll cum with you,” jake would start to pump himself, mouth slack as he kept looking into your eyes, “fuck you’re so pretty, touch yourself for me honey, moan my name.” jake looked way to hot like this to not continue pushing your fingers in and out your cunt. both of you were a moaning mess until a mixture of both your cum stained your bedsheets.
‎‧₊˚✧[ SUNGHOON ]✧˚₊‧
home boy would be on such a power trip hearing you moan out his name in the middle of the night as you touch yourself. he’d be laying in bed smirking so fucking hard at the pure fact he doesn’t even have to be the one touching you to get you screaming out his name. sunghoon would be confused at first, thinking he was just hearing things and eventually drifting off to sleep until he heard you moan out his name and he knew he wasn’t hearing things. you indeed were moaning his name while you masturbated. it would give sunghoon such an ego boost. he already knew he was hot shit, but after hearing your pretty voice scream for him? it only made it worse. sunghoon would also be so fucking turned on by it. he couldn’t lie and say he never jerked himself off to you, he was very much attracted to you, he just didn’t think you felt the same and now that he knows you do, you aren’t safe from him. sunghoon would quickly pull himself out of bed and make his way to your bedroom, pressing his ear gently to the wood of your door, waiting to confirm you are indeed still moaning out his name. once that confirmation was cleared, he wouldn’t hesitate to just open your door, crossing his arms and smirking at how you look on your bed, completely naked as you continued to fuck yourself, staring deeply into his eyes. you were so close to finishing and even though you were embarrassed to have been caught, your need to cum outweighed it. “how cute,” he coos, “getting caught moaning my name and still going? that’s so fucking hot,” he would then make his way into your bedroom, towering over you and sliding his hand on top of yours, helping you push your fingers inside your cunt faster, “looks like you need some help, princess. I’ll make you cum hard, don’t worry.
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gggookii · 2 days
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𝚍𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚠𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚗 - 𝚎.𝚠
★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★
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loser!ellie williams x fem!reader
summary: ellie unexpectedly shows up to your apartment with hopes of talking to you. it's just the two of you sitting in her car. she tries to tell you how she feels, but her awkward nature makes it a struggle.
a/n: this is my first post on here and I hope y'all enjoy !! pretty short and sweet bc it's a monday night :/ (not proofread)
c/w: mention of weed
word count: 1.4k
click for palestine
★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★
the sky has turned dark, with no one in sight through your apartment window. A lit candle emitted the scent of pure vanilla, which gave it a snug feeling. you were dozing off in bed, fitted with a pair of silk pajamas and a bright phone screen in front of your face. you couldn’t help the feeling of nodding off as the same video replayed on your phone. just as you shut your phone off and placed it on the nightstand, there was a notification. with a grunt, you picked yourself up and quickly flicked on your phone. it was her—the person you swore to your friends was the love of your life.
ellie (future gf):
look out ur window rn
like a lost puppy, you immediately scuffled to your window. pulling away the curtain, there sat ellie’s beat-up burgundy car in all it’s glory. your eyes lit up with a smile pulling at your cheeks. it was like a ritual. at least once a week, ellie would randomly show up at any time of the day. the two of you would sit around in her car, blabbering anything you could think of. sometimes, she would bring snacks, but you always thought she ate like a grandpa. who even eats necco wafers? let alone heard of that candy? nobody but ellie. 
you put on a random jacket and went down to her car. you mentally prepared yourself and fixed loose strands of your hair before opening the car door. through her window, you could see that she staring at you with a grin with her hair in a small ponytail. you loved it like that.
right as you opened the door; she quickly swept off the pile of fast food paper bags on the passenger's seat. she was so messy. you loved it.
"hey," she awkwardly greeted as she leaned back in her seat. ellie cleared her throat and looked away from you for a second.
"hi, ellie" you said, biting back a smile creeping up on you. the smell of weed that her car was lamented with filling up her nose.
randomly, she drew her hand out to you. with a lift of an eyebrow, you brought your hand out only for her to dap you up. there was pure confusion on your face the moment ellie began. what the fuck? you questioned her inside your mind. on the other hand, ellie was beating herself up for pulling a move like that. her whole body was hot and sweaty from the tension in her body. for her life, she can not flirt at all.
"sorry, that was kinda weird." the auburn-haired girl chuckled at herself and scratched her head. she was a nervous wreck, but you were oblivious to it.
"yeah, you fucking weirdo." you jabbed at her as you opened the pull-down mirror to check your appearance.
there was a couple of seconds of silence with ellie staring at you brushing off something in your eyebrows. "you look really pretty." ellie spoke up with her shoulders curled up.
"you think so?" you sheepishly ask for reassurance while shutting the pull-down mirror. she inches closer to you. the closer she becomes, the closer to death you are. ellie intensely stares at your forehead, squinting her eyes and tilting her head.
"yeah but..." her words cut off. you bit the inside of your cheeks as she continued to stare at your forehead. you felt stupid. was there really something stuck on there? "nah, I'm messing with you. there's nothing on your forehead." she admitted followed by a witch-like cackle.
you responded by shoving her shoulder away. "tsk. wowww, you should be a comedian or something. I'm fucking dying." said in the most monotone voice ever, even though you were holding in a laugh.
"yeah, you think I'm the funniest person ever." the girl in the driver's seat adjusted her shirt and leaned back in her seat. you rolled your eyes and crossed your arms.
"what are you even doing here right now? don't you have the morning shift?" you interrogated her. she only looked down at her fidgeting fingers and shrugged.
"I dunno." she did know. she just couldn't spill it out.
at her apartment, she suddenly had a burst of confidence in her to confess to you. she pumped herself up, and even ran down your whole conversation to herself. but, as soon as you stepped into the car it all diminished away.
"missed me that much?" you teased her with a cheeky grin. her fast stung a color of red and she faced away from your gaze. "dude, you good?" suspicion rose in you as you observed her weird behavior.
"yeah, I'm just mewing," she said with a straight face and pointed towards her jawline. you slightly chuckled and rubbed your temples, "okay, buddy."
the two of them went silent once again. it wasn't an awkward type of silence though. it was comforting. you were just enjoying ellie's company with her doing the same. at least, you think. her ass was definitely pondering about something. her arms were crossed, eyebrows furrowed, lips slightly parted, and her eyes didn't leave her steering wheel.
"uhm..." she finally spoke up and your head spun over to face her. "hmm?" you responded.
"I think I like..." holy shit, it was happening. ellie is finally going to declare her undying love for you. "this girl." she finished her sentence.
are you absolutely shitting me right now?
you thought you were about to go insane. there was no way the two of you had been flirting for the past few months, and ellie likes someone else? there was no way it all meant absolutely nothing. you practically could hear the clique audio of your heart-shattering. the pieces scattered on the floor with no broom in sight to help you clean it up.
it wasn't only you going insane, but ellie too. her words came out completely different than she meant for them to. there has never been a moment where she wanted to smack herself more than now. ellie was already planning on quitting her job, shaving her hair, getting some plastic surgeries, and moving to iceland or something. there was no way she could correct herself now. but she did, and it became even more humiliating.
"wait- no, I don't like a girl." she tried to clear up, but it only made you even more confused.
"let me start over. pretend like none of that even happened." one of ellie's hands was over her face, and the other was being waved around. you held your breath and gazed upon the panicked face in front of you.
"I think I have feelings for you. not any other girl. only you." her final statement became clear. even with that, you were still just as confused as before.
"you do?" fuck, she's going to reject me. ellie thought to herself and prepared for her execution by rejection. "yeah." she shrugged, pretending to be nonchalant.
wow, since when did your skin feel so refreshed? you don't know why, but suddenly you felt a weight wash off your shoulders. you started smiling, borderline laughing, and ellie was kind of getting spooked. not because you looked psychotic, but because she felt that you were going to poke fun at her.
"nah, I'm playing. It was another joke" holy hell you were about to murder her. "that wasn't funny." you gave her a death glare and bit your tongue so you wouldn't start cursing at her.
once again, ellie regretted taking it back and was almost on the verge of tears. the amount of embarrassment she felt is unfathomable. ellie sighed and began to try one last time to clear everything up. her stupid social skills can't get in the way this time.
"I'm sorry." she apologized and continues, "I actually do like you. fuck, I'm sorry I'm so awkward." ellie held her face in her hands.
let's fucking go! you celebrated to yourself with a cringy air fist bump.
"ellie..." you let out an airy snicker as you placed a hand on her head. "you're so adorable." this got ellie's attention with her face swinging up to look at you.
"so, do you like me too?" she asked with a needy tone. you nodded at her. "yeah," a simple response.
"yeah?"
"yeah."
★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★
a/n: I had absolutely no idea how to end this :{
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01zfan · 3 days
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human like me | l. sh
sohee x fem reader | 7k words
last installment of the sacrilegious series WHO ELSE THOUGHT I’D NEVER FINISH IT? seriously though, thank you guys so much for your patience and for supporting this series i love every single one of you guys. also sorry for this being different than the summary on the masterlist it was too similar to umf so i changed it. this is also definitely my saddest work but religious is sad to me so it works.
contains: MAJOR character death, depictions of depression, implied virginity loss, cheating (???), kinda a dark fic but in like a very sad way (???)
sacrilegious materlist
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sohee was always in your life. you believed that even before you met him he existed in your orbit, passing by you constantly but never colliding. he was shrouded in mystery but he felt familiar, like you had seen his face in the mass of people when your eyes would wander during service. when he came to introduce himself as the new student in your class, you tilted your head, trying to remember where you’d seen him from. the answer was so close yet so far away. you tapped your thigh and tongued your cheek, a habit of yours when you felt bible verses caught on the tip of your tongue. 
although everything about sohee felt familiar it was the smell of him that rang the most bells in your mind. when he came in close to shake your hand it was like you were taken back to a time in your life where you felt at peace. it happened so suddenly, one moment you were confused the next you knew everything. your olfactory neurons were firing off a storm, transporting you somewhere when sohee came close. you lingered for a second too long when you came close to him, closing your eyes to try and remember where you were.
when you finally pulled back from sohee he looked confused but not afraid of you. he had big expressive eyes, ones that were a clear indicator down the road that this was his first life. when you apologized and pulled away he told you it was okay, hesitating a moment before asking you if he smelled bad.
“no” you shook your head instantly “you just smell familiar.” you said.
sohee smiled and you smiled back. when he turned his head you counted the moles that dotted on his cheek. something in you knew the number, counting them over and over again to see if you were right.
“is that a good thing?” sohee asked when he turned back to you. “that i smell familiar?”
he pinched the fabric of his shirt and move his head to his shoulder to smell it. you groaned inwardly at another failed attempt to socialize with your peers. too many times you ended up embarrassing yourself or saying something that could be taken as an insult to the person you were talking to. but when sohee was done smelling his shirt he didn’t look annoyed or perturbed by your comment. instead, he leaned forward to you and took a large whiff, as if he was trying to be as loud as possible. your classmates turned to look at the two of you in the back of the class. sohee didn’t seem to notice the confused people looking at the two of you.
“you smell good.” sohee took another sniff, rolling his eyes up to his head like he was thinking. “is this how i’m supposed to greet people?” he said.
when you laughed at his question all of your classmates stared at the two of you again. your laugh felt foreign almost, you were so used to hushed laughs to yourself during boring parts in sermons when your mind would wander. sohee’s eyebrows raised before he laughed along with you.
ever since that day sohee stuck close to you and you stuck closer to him. he had become the weird kid in the school and you were the silent one, reputations that stuck like a second skin to the both of you. it was a match made in heaven.
you remained friends throughout school, both of you helping eachother through the late nights of worship and bible study. you became partners for every project and seat mates in every class after your reputations for being different ran through the school like wildfire.
you remember at graduation recalling the irony in how quickly you and sohee were judged for being different. from the outside looking in, you would’ve never known that your catholic classmates had a tendency to judge and alienate those who were different. kids who had been preached the teachings of the bible before they could walk were the most self-righteous. they thought it was their prerogative to isolate the ones who didn’t fit into their cookie cutter mold. you were all smacked with rulers to instill the fear of god and his gospel in your young impressionable minds, but even after a lifetime of teaching people could still become hypocrites. 
even if you had become okay with your reputation, you still felt a stone in your throat after everyone threw their caps in the air. it seemed like before everything touched the ground everyone was gone. people left in their cliques that were formed long ago. after the ceremony you found sohee and you two roamed the school grounds like ghosts. it was strange, sticking around the place where you guys were bullied while everyone else left to the next chapter of their lives. when the moon was high in the sky you guys found yourself at the playground, recalling all of the awful things that happened to the two of you at the hands of your peers.
“to hell with them.” 
sohee said it loud and proud as you guys sat on the swings you never got the chance to play on. when you heard the words fall from his mouth you gasped, feet digging into the wood chips to stop the little momentum you had. sohee was still in his seat, only rocking back and forth on his feet. he turned to you with a smile on his face, cheek pressed to the uncoated swing chain.
“i’m serious. they were awful to us.” sohee said.
he looked up to the moon and you did too. something inside of you wanted to agree, to say to hell with all of them. but you couldn’t. you shook your head and turned to sohee, heart beating in your chest as you thought of everything coming to an end.
“one day, they’ll realize what they did was wrong.” you said.
even if you sounded so sure, sohee still scoffed. his head looked down at his feet now as he kicked woodchips around.
“i doubt it.” sohee murmured under his breath.
you let out a sigh, trying to let the need for an apology fall from your shoulders.
“thessalonians 5:18” you say.
instantly sohee beside you groans and tips his head back in the narrow swing seat. you laugh and start spinning in the seat to twist the chains.
“i hate when you quote bible ve—.” sohee complained.
“give thanks in all circumstance; for this is the will of god in christ jesus for you.” you interrupt. 
sohee makes sounds of anguish the whole time you quote the verse, and you mockingly increase your voice to be over his. when you’re done you let the chain of the swing untwist.
“and what should we be grateful for in this situation?” sohee asked.
“i met you.” when sohee turned in his seat you suddenly felt nervous. you maintained eye contact, counting his moles over and over again to try and steady yourself. “i’m pretty grateful for that.” you say.
for a moment, it’s just you and sohee staring at eachother. the moonlight shines on your faces, and you both grip the stiff tops of your graduation caps to ease your nerves. even if your outside you suddenly feel suffocated. sohee breaks away from your gaze first, clearing his throat and looking forward at the jungle gym.
“i’m grateful too.” sohee said.
a smile came across his face when he let one of his hands drop away from the chain of the swing. he was subtle as he slowly moved his swing sideways to get closer to you. his hand was still in the space between your two bodies when you let your hand drop as well. it was slow, both of your heads tilted towards the night sky while your fingers found eachother. it was a gentle touch then a tight squeeze as you two held hands. any attempt to look at eachother was futile, the both of you were nervous messes while your fingers intertwined. suddenly you didn’t care about the graduation parties you weren’t invited to, or the events you were excluded from—you had sohee and you had god. both were two constants in your life, both made you feel safe, and both were on your mind constantly. 
when you started thinking about sohee more than you thought about god, you knew something was amiss. it happened suddenly, weeks after you guys silently held hands underneath the moonlight. you both were kneeled at the altar with lowered heads as you murmured prayers underneath your breath. when sohee looked up and you saw his head tilt back as he did the sign of the cross you focused on his bobbing adam’s apple. it was ironic, the forbidden fruit lodged in the first mans throat was the thing that first sparked your lustful thoughts. 
sohee kissed his hand at the end and stood up. you felt like your knees were glued to the floor. when sohee looked down at you, you couldn’t stop your eyes from going wide. everything about sohee was familiar, you knew him like the back of your hand after spending so much time together. but from this position of him looking down at you, everything felt new. 
the feeling that churned deep in your stomach was something you never felt before. it didn’t seem to go away, only intensify as your time with sohee continued. when he spoke to god you felt your mind wander to what he’d sound like cursing the name underneath his breath, bringing in his plush lips between his teeth. when you caught glances of sohee’s hand thumbing through pages of the bible you got lost, entranced by the way his slender fingers scanned down the pages to find what he was looking for. 
sometimes the churning hurt, it got so intense that you would almost feel pain in your bed at night. the sin was so suffocating you tossed and turned until you fell asleep—but even your dreams couldn’t give you an escape. 
you were taken to an early morning, laying in a bed with silky soft sheets. when you sat up in bed you saw thin white curtains dancing in a gentle breeze and sohee sitting behind them, their sheerness giving you a filtered view of sohee. he was always focused on something else as he sat at the table. sometimes it would be his book, sometimes it would be his phone. but it was always his lips that caught your attention first, soft and pink mouthing something you could barely make out. then your eyes would wander to his fluttering eyelashes, so visible even if your were half a room away. 
sohee’s attention would always go back to you, smile on his face as he got on the bed and crawled towards you. in the white room, reflecting purity you found yourself thinking only of the loss in innocence as you backed up to the headboard. sohee looked down at you, right in the eyes then down to your lips. your own eyes wandered too, gripping the smooth sheets in your hands as you tried to figure out what to do next. sohee’s hand was familiar, like it was a touch transcending planes of consciousness as it clasped over yours. sohee knew to lean close, so close that you felt the ghost of his lips jolt you awake.
when the dreams got to be too much, you found yourself pulling sohee away during transition time in the oratory. you pulled him away mid conversation with his new friend he made in the choir. sohee could barely mutter a sorry to anton as he followed behind you, being pulled by his hand. sohee stumbled as you continued pulling his hand to go against the mass of people. you didn’t answer sohee’s questions of where you two were going, and you didn’t stop moving until you both were cramped inside the janitors storage closet. 
sohee looked around the room, staring up at the single lightbulb that hung from the ceiling.
“is this the new prayer room?” sohee asked.
you shook your head, trying to figure out how to confess to your friend that you were sinning at the thought of him.
“sohee.” you’re serious, and sohee looks at you worried as the lightbulb above your heads sways in space. “i have sinned.” you confess.
his head tilted slightly as he tried to figure out what happened. he looked at the top of your head when you hung it in shame, gripping his hands as you tried to come up with the words to say.
“is it bad?” sohee asked quietly.
you knew now that you were being dramatic then. compared to what you ended up doing later in life, having lustful dreams about your friend wasn’t even the tip of the iceberg. but when you’re young you don’t know any better, and when you are taught about cardinal sin and damnation you think everything is absolute. so even though they were only dreams, the tears welled at your water line as you nodded your head to sohee’s question. 
“like, how bad?” sohee asked.
“cardinal.” you said simply.
sohee did a sharp intake of his breath and you went back to letting your head hang. you felt the heat start in your chest at the humiliation. no amount of repenting could save you, or take the thoughts from your mind. 
“which one?” sohee asked.
you were convinced you were cursed, even in with the gravity of the situation weighing down on you in the cramped closet your eyes still found their way to sohee’s lips. how he chewed on them as he tried to figure out what to say to you. how his eyes were wide as he looked at you. his hands that held tightly onto yours. you counted the moles on his face over and over again until you found the words, trying to shake the thought’s from your mind.
“lust.” you answered.
sohee had to strain his ear and repeat the motion of your lips a thousand times. from your whisper he almost missed it—he believed he was making it up until he mouthed the word himself. he let your word float in the cramped closer between the two of you as he tried to figure out what to say.
when he saw your head hang even deeper in shame sohee lifted your gaze by lightly shaking your shoulders. it took everything to maintain eye contact with him like this. the lightbulb that hung above your heads shined down on sohee like a ring of light above his head. he began sweating a long time ago, from being shoulder to shoulder during mass now in this tiny space where the tension felt like a thick fog. sohee had a thin layer of sweat on his forehead, and the light that caught it made him glisten. you tried to swallow your thoughts as sohee continued to look at you.
“it’s normal. to feel that way.” sohee assured.
his eyes were big as he tried to comfort you. when you shook your head he nodded his, trying to show you everything was alright. the guilt and shame ate you up inside.
“even if it’s about you?” you asked.
you swear to god that you don’t remember what happened next. all you remember was that one moment everything was still. none of the cleaning supplies moved on the shelves, the lightbulb above your heads didn’t sway from its cord. the next sohee back you into the wall with his lips on yours. teeth clashed as you knocked things down. you stumbled, almost putting your foot in a mop bucket before you greedily tried wrapping it around sohee’s waist. he held it there by a grip on your thighs, but he was no better as he failed to balance himself in the small space. he nearly fell, only held up by the grip you had on his shoulders. 
when you pulled away the swinging lightbulb illuminated parts of sohee’s face. even if his eyes were dark from lust you didn’t shy away, you only licked your lips to try and remember the taste. 
the first time sohee touched you, it was quick. both of you were so burdened by lust that clouded your judgement. it held you so tightly sometimes you felt air getting caught in your chest and the only relief was sohee sticking his hands underneath your shirt. in relation to things you two did in the years to come, it was harmless. but in that moment, both of you looked to the ceiling in the janitors closet like god was going to strike the two of you down then and there. when nothing happened, you let out a sigh of relief and stuck your own hand underneath sohee’s shirt. you were softer then compared to now. sohee was warmer then too, his skin was smooth but felt like fire underneath your fingertips. when you thought about fire you hesitated, no longer reciprocating sohee’s fast and wet kisses he placed across your face. he pulled away, eyes blown out as he looked at you with worry.
“what’s wrong?” sohee asked.
“this is wrong. god is watching.” you whispered it, like he was in the cramped janitor closet that barely had enough room for the two of you.
you were so stupid.
sohee knew you were stupid, you swear to god he knew it too. even though he put a gentle kiss to your forehead and reassuring pecks to the apples of your cheeks you think now he was mocking you. 
you didn’t take your hand away from sohee’s bare stomach, and he pressed into your yours gently. he looked up for a moment, before turning his attention back to you.
“we can just repent, yeah?” sohee asked.
you thought about it too. lust was a sin, but the feeling of sohee readjusting your leg on his waist made you believe it was worth it. you didn’t need much convincing to melt into sohee’s kisses again, to push him against the walls of the small closet until cleaning supplies fell from the sides. you were desperate but still shy, not letting your hands wander from the space of sohee’s torso. that was all you needed then, just touching his bare skin gave you enough to feel that pressure churn in your stomach. 
that’s how lust worked. it started off as a supernova, burning bright and fast, over as soon as it started. that’s why you and sohee were able to reach peaks you had never known before just by kissing and pushing eachother against walls with your hands touching bare stomachs. the two of you were moaning into the others mouth within minutes, returning to church service uncomfortable in your underwear and sweaty underneath your tunics before anyone noticed you were missing. 
in the beginning it was only touching and kissing, before the lust became unbearable and needed more to be sated. before you knew it you were pushing sohee’s hands past the waistband of your pants or up your skirt, and sohee was closing your fist around his dick with his hand as he snapped his hips forward. you had graduated from the janitors closet to prayer rooms, even sneaking away to feel eachother in the youth group meeting rooms or sohee’s bedroom when his parents weren’t home. it was risky, but that was the thing with lust, it took away your inhibitions and made you daring.
you were always lucky, after coming back from sneaking away with sohee all you had to do was sit in the pew and wait for service to be over. sohee had to sing in front of your congregation, pursing the lips that you kissed swollen with hair your carelessly mussed. he was unaffected, smiling to you in between hymns. 
you believed sohee was an angel, someone god sent down with a heavenly voice to spread his word. even when he had his hands down your pants, whispering unholy things into your ears as you came undone you thought he was an angel. with a supernatural singing ability you believed he was invincible.
you found out later that sohee was a human like you, a creature of flesh and blood that could be here one second and gone the next.
to this day you don’t know what happened. everyone kept it a secret from you, or maybe it was something your mind tuned out in efforts to protect your sanity. all you knew was that sohee looked so cold now, and you were the one looking down at him. you finally got the apologies you wanted in highschool. the people who berated you and sohee and isolated you in class came up to you with tears in their eyes.
we were young dumb kids back then.
sohee was so sweet.
we could tell your love was real.
may god protect you.
you almost laughed when you heard the name of god, but it didn’t seem appropriate to laugh anymore. when the preacher got that strange wheeze in his voice that sohee would mimic you had to bite your tongue, and after the service you almost chuckled as you tried to find a word to describe what sohee’s parents were now. what do you call a parent that lost their child?
inverse orphans?
you gripped the plate that had sohee’s favorite snacks as you held back a laugh. you watched from the corner of sohee’s living room, seeing everyone mingle and talk. you felt like sohee that night at graduation, scoffing up to the sky when you said the bible verse. there was nothing to be grateful for in this moment. you weren’t grateful to sit in the front row of mourners, sandwiched between his mother and anton. you weren’t grateful that they asked you to share a memory you had with anton, or to spare kind words. you weren’t grateful that his mom pulled you aside and sincerely thanked you for being her sons bestfriend. you weren’t grateful to stand in the same living room where you spent countless days with sohee after school, talking about the future with eachother in mind. 
to hell with them.
you adopted that mindset then and there. the shock turned to indifference and numbness in that moment while you stood in the corner of sohee’s living room. you didn’t bother saying goodbye, leaving through sohee’s window after you snuck into his room to lay in his bed. you were nosy in his space like you always were, opening drawers and wrapping his clothes around your face as you tried to recall where you remembered his scent from. you stole a black hoodie, and the red baseball cap that perpetually rested on his dresser. you snuck through sohee’s window, trying to not be seen. but as you had one leg out anton was coming in, peaking through the door like he had done countless times before. 
for a split second you saw anton’s eyes go to sohee’s bed. you followed his line of sight, almost thinking that sohee was there. you almost saw the outline of sohee’s body relaxing on his bed like you had seen so many times before. but before you could really take a look anton eyes went to you halfway out the window. 
“oh. hey.” anton said when he saw you.
you didn’t say a word to him. the only thing you did was move your body to the side when anton’s eyes drifted down to sohee’s things in your hand.
“i was wondering if—”
before anton could say anything else, you left. you swung your legs over the windowsill to the fire escape, walking down to the street. you drove in complete silence all the way home, looking to sohee’s things in your passengers seat at the stoplight.
on your way home you became increasingly numb to everything. you let yourself cry when you initially got the call, and tears fell when you saw him for the last time. but now, as you walked around your apartment you didn’t feel anything. you didn’t care about anything. 
except for that damn light. 
the reminder that the sun continued to rise everyday weighed heavy on your conscious, and the fact that your apartment had so many windows made the light virtually inescapable. in the beginning the light used to bring you life, even if you didn’t want to admit it. you didn’t want to admit that you liked waking up from the gentle sunlight coming through the windows and getting an early start to your day, or how refreshed it made you feel. you found it extremely ironic to actively deny the benefits of the sun in front of the sun itself—but sohee was no longer here to make the sun seem dim in comparison. now it was just too bright. your apartment that used to be bathed in the sun felt like it was burning you alive. 
sohee used to talk about the windows in your apartment like it was a perk, and for a while you believed him. when you signed the lease he got your sheer colorful curtains, and the sun came through the same way it came through the stained glass windows in the chapel. at first you loved it, feeling like you were always in a place of worship. but now you hated everything that reminded you of church, or anything that was connected to god. 
you didn’t want to see the light, you didn’t want to see anything related to the church anymore. god abandoned you a long time ago, if he was even real. you didn’t know if it was more upsetting—to find out god wasn’t real or if he was real and didn’t stop good people from dying or suffering. if you thought about it too much, if you were forced to see what your life had become because of the colored light filtering through your sheer curtains you would only get violent and trash something else in your apartment. so the first change you made to your apartment was buying blackout curtains. once you were done hanging up all the curtains you closed your eyes then opened them, happy to find that it almost looked the same. 
after you hung up the blackout curtains, avoiding the world became easier. you didn’t have to hide from the sun underneath pillows or your covers, and you didn’t have to worry about the sun interrupting your long periods of sleep. you didn’t have to go through the pounding headaches from sleeping for too long and you realized if it was already dark in your apartment, you didn’t have to know that life went on. the earth didn’t continue to spin in your pitch black apartment, if you didn’t check your phone the illusion of time standing still wasn’t broken. the sun never set or rose when you hung up the blackout curtains. 
the first person that saw you after everything was sohee’s bestfriend. you had heard his knocks before, and then before that as well. you didn’t know what day it was, and when you finally peaked through your door anton looked just as lost. he looked like he was already preparing to walk away, back turned to your door when you finally opened it. he turned immediately, smiling with cracked dry lips and red eyes. 
“i came by earlier.” he picked at the lid of the glass dish in his hands. “you must’ve been out.”
you are still silent behind your cracked door, not used to speaking to other people in so long. you mainly can’t focus because of the blinding light. you cough behind the door, trying to clear your throat.
before you can speak, anton holds out the meatloaf towards you like a peace offering.
“sohee’s parents came by service today and they wanted me to give this to you.” he said.
“i hate meatloaf.” you said.
when anton heard the defeat in your voice, he finally dropped the act. you saw his shoulders visibly sag, you saw him smile and his eyes drop. your eyes went to the bottom of his tie, how the fabric was darker than the rest from blotting away his tears. maybe he had the same epiphany you did about the church. it didn’t work, and the pain never goes away. anton looked up from the letter placed on top of the dish to look up at you.
“can i come in?” when you looked behind you getting ready to decline anton took a desperate step forward. “please.” he begged.
you only opened the door up a little wider, feeling like the light was infiltrating the refuge you built away from it. 
when anton squeezed through the small space, he brought you in for a tight hug. he hugged the same way he did at the wake, and you stood there frozen now the same way you did then. when it was the three of you, you always welcomed the hugs, smiling while patting his back gently. but when it was just you and anton, it felt awkward. you hugged friends with enthusiasm, but you were always apprehensive of strangers. that’s what anton was now that the reason you two met was no longer there. it felt intimate to have a stranger in your apartment just to drop off food and well wishes. you shifted on your feet and shrunk into sohee’s oversized sweater that only reeked of you now. 
anton was the only person on earth that understood sohee like you did. maybe that’s why you felt such a connection to him when he was alive. anton was the only other important person in sohee’s life, and it was something you two wore like a badge of honor. competition for sohee’s attention slowly turned into a friendly teasing and forced hangouts. anton also went through a period of isolation at the hands of his peers. after your shared trauma and shared love for sohee it only seemed logical that the three of you would become a trio. 
but now it seemed awkward and painful. anton didn’t realize it like you did at the wake, but when he pulled back from the hug you could tell he knew. he separated from you immediately and cleared his throat. anton’s anxious fingers flexed around the pyrex dish, like the food was going to save him. your hands stayed at your side while you tried not to think about what it would be like if sohee was still here. both of you would be laughing to exaggerate the awkwardness, letting your shared love for sohee overcome the tension. but the veil was lifted now, and you both knew it. 
while anton tried to navigate your shadowy apartment, you started thinking about how much in common the boy in front of you had with sohee. the two had the same dialect from growing up in the same town. they had the same affliction in their voice brought from spending so much time together, and they both had the same annoying habit of placing things to close to the edge of counters. if you closed your eyes it was almost like sohee was with you again. 
“did you hear what i said?” anton asked.
you could see him look for your face in the darkness, not finding you until you spoke.
“no. what’d you say?” you asked quietly.
“sohee’s mom wanted me to get his sheet music.” you could see the outline of anton’s arm go to scratch the back of his head. “they asked me to cover his parts temporarily.” anton said.
you could tell that anton was half expecting you to decline. you almost did, you had developed the nasty habit of hoarding anything of sohee’s you could get your hands on. the last sane part of your mind knew it was evil to withhold something from his parents, and they were already so nice to let you steal their sons clothes and keep them for yourself. so you silently walked in front of sohee—anton—to go into your room.
you actually preferred for anton to be in your bedroom. it was the only part of your apartment you bothered to keep clean. you saved all the takeout bags and trash for your kitchen, letting it rest on your counters. you dug around your room in the darkness, trying to remember where you put them. anton stood by the door, not moving until you found the folder.
“here it is.” you said. 
anton moved to you, standing by your bed as he held the folder in his hands. the two of you were silent, looking at one of the last things sohee ever touched.
“do you mind?” anton asked.
when you saw that he had looked up from the folder to look at your drawn curtain, you shook your head. you didn’t have the words to explain yourself, instead you just got on your bed to unplug your phone. anton followed you, sitting on the edge of your bed as you turned on the flashlight. both you and anton lingered on the lockscreen of your phone, a picture of sohee smiling big in his choir uniform. you saw anton next to him, unaware that you were taking a photo. before you could stay on it for too long you turned your phone off, using the flashlight to illuminate the front of the folder.
anton ran his fingers over sohee’s name written on the bottom and the little doodles beside it. he flipped through the pages, seeing sohee’s annotations and little things he scribbled off to the side. you had never seen the pages, sohee kept them close to his person during service. you remember seeing him up late at night, headphones over his ears as he made his own changes to the hymns. you thought it would only be about music, but as anton thumbed through the pages you saw little sketches of you in the corners, your initials written in heart shapes and your erased name. anton was surprised too, a tiny laugh escaping his lips as he saw everything.
“so that’s what he was doing during service.” anton said.
you knew that you should’ve found joy in sohee’s scribbles. he was thinking about you as much as you were thinking about him. you wondered if he was thinking about you while singing, when he should’ve been thinking about god. your mind started thinking about punishment when your tears started dotting the sheets of music. anton closer the folder immediately, turning to you. he said nothing, only bringing you in for a hug as you sniffled into his shoulder. 
“i’m sorry. i thought seeing that would make you feel better.” anton whispered into your shoulder.
you shook your head, finally letting your hands wrap around anton’s waist. you gripped his white button up tightly, letting the tears you didn’t know you had wet his shirt.
“it’s not fair.” your words were muffled into anton’s shirt. you felt him nod against your head, patting your back soothingly.
“he’s watching over us.” anton said unsurely.
you shook your head, going further into the comfort of the mans arms. your phone’s flashlight was pointed upwards, illuminating the space between your bodies. when you pulled away you could make out the shadow of anton’s face, and your line of sight was bracketed with tears. 
“if he’s here, why do i feel so alone?” you ask. 
in the dark of your room, you swear you could hear sohee’s voice in front of you. he became so familiar to you that you could place him anywhere, even if you haven’t seen him in so long. so when you press your thigh against the person next to you, you swear on your life it’s sohee’s thigh that touches you back. when you flipped your phone around, it was sohee’s hands that stayed on your shoulders. when you heard the person next to you speak, it was sohee’s voice that talked to you.
“you’re not alone.” 
it felt like you were taken back to the first time sohee spent the night in your apartment. it was the first time the two of you had been left completely alone, your parents didn’t bother you once you fled the nest and sohee’s parents thought he was with anton. that was the night you were the most nervous, only settled by sohee’s comforting words. he whispered them against the shell of your ear, then huffed them into your neck as you wrapped your legs around his waist. the familiarity of it all crept up on you, and if you closed your eyes you could hear the same bated breath sohee had before he first leaned in to kiss you deeply. you felt sohee’s hands go from your shoulders as they traveled down to your elbows.
you screwed your eyes shut when you held sohee in front of you the same way. he never wore button ups, but if you didn’t think too hard about it your mind filled in the blanks. you ignored how hesitant his dry cracked lips were at first, instead remembering how you were always kissed with such soft devotion. you remembered his soft plush lips, how slowly you were able to kiss eachother when you weren’t under a time constraint or watchful eyes. your imagination made you take the lead, hoping your muscle memory would mold the pair of lips to the ones you were familiar with. but when you shamelessly ran your tongue over his top lip you weren’t fighting for dominance against a guiding hand on the nape of your neck. when you fisted his shirt you weren’t pulled in by the small of your back. you only felt an uneasy hand go to your face, stroking the fresh tear tracks on the apples of your cheeks timidly. 
regardless, for a moment your mind and the pair of lips humored you. they humored you into delusion, to the point that you pulled away for a second. maybe it was the last fleeting smell of sohee embedded into his hoodie, maybe he still rested on the pages of his sheet music. but when you pulled away you swear on god’s life that you saw sohee beside you, breathless with his lips parted as he touched your cheeks.
“sohee?” you said breathlessly.
at the same time, your phone fell from your lap face down, lighting anton’s horrified face in front of you. the hand that was on your cheeks went to your shoulder, pushing you back slightly. anton shot up from your bed, his head hanging in shame as his hand wiped you away from his lips.
“i’m sorry. i can’t.” anton backed towards your bedroom door, head still hanging low. “text me when you finish the food. i’m sorry.” he said.
the front door closed before you could say anything. you stayed on the bed, looking down at the shining white light on the back of your phone. you had nothing to say anymore, you had no tears anymore. you eventually made you way back to the kitchen and eyed the dish sitting on the edge of your countertop. you looked at the envelope that sat on top, your name written in tiny neat letters. you pushed the glass dish to the edge of your countertop a little more, until it was threatening to fall. you went back to bed and laid down, looking through the scribbles of sohee’s sheet music over and over again.
that was the same night you had your first dream about sohee. he came to you while you laid in bed, curling next to you and kissing your head through your hair. it was warm and comforting, you could feel his heat wrap around your body completely. sohee came close to your ear and apologized that it would be awhile until you saw eachother again. you shot up in bed when your phone buzzed out of do not disturb. you reached for the empty space beside you, panting into the darkness as you looked around your dark and empty room. 
after you yelled at the person who woke you up, calls stopped coming in. there were occasional texts that you couldn’t process and words that dripped in pity. anton friend sent you a text that night about how sorry he was. you were almost able to delude yourself into thinking it was sohee until the word “grief” pulled your from fantasy. you kept your ringer off now, only going to your phone to look at your lockscreen and ignore the digital clock that told you the earth was still spinning.
your room was the only thing you bothered to keep clean, because that’s where sohee would always visit you in your dreams. it had gotten to the point that all your trash was waiting for you on the other side, littering your living room and unfolded clothes occupied your couch. wrappers from candy bars and empty paper bags on the occasion you’d eat littered your kitchen countertops. the food in the dish was long spoiled and your bathroom was virtually unused except for the toilet and sink. your dry soap bar and washcloth became a looming presence and you made the excuse of whispering to yourself i’ll do it tomorrow each time you walked by. 
i’ll do it tomorrow had become your new motto. you said it every time you added to the pile of dishes in your sink, stacked so high it almost touched the faucet. you said it when you heard knocks on your door or your phone went off from receiving a text message. several notes cards were crammed underneath your door, things you told yourself you’d read later. if it wasn’t sohee, it wasn’t a priority. the only thing that mattered was keeping the curtains drawn and sleeping to see him again. 
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iamthecomet · 6 hours
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𝘔𝘶𝘴𝘩𝘺 𝘔𝘢𝘺 𝘋𝘢𝘺 𝘚𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯: 𝘓𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘋𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦
Rating: T Pairing: Aether/Dew but also Aether/Everyone Word Count: 986 Featuring: Some angst and a bad dirty joke or two.
Also could count for "telling stupid jokes" which was the actual day 7 prompt because Dew is Dew and I couldn't resist.
Many thanks to the amazing @forlorn-crows for putting Mushy May together again. And to @ghuleh-recs for the divider which I am mildly obsessed with.
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It’s worse than he thought.  He thought staying would be easy, but it’s clear the moment the buses pull away that it’s leaving that’s the easy part. Staying is agony. 
Aether knows he’s made the right choice. That Aeon is ready and the Ministry needs him here and that he and Sunny will be fine.But that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt. 
He watches the driveway until the dust settles, and then he turns his back, his pack out of sight, and walks back into the Abbey proper. Sunshine had already gone inside–a meeting with Imperator she said. But Aether thinks maybe she just wanted some time to herself–he doesn’t blame her. 
Aether keeps busy for the first couple weeks. Picks up extra shifts at the infirmary. He works most nights. The idea of climbing into an empty bed in the middle of the night makes his chest hurt–it’s easier to do it in the day time when he can imagine that the rest of his pack is going about their day–not gone. 
He talks to them on the phone every day. Dew video calls him from the bus after every show. Swiss texts him pictures of all of the weird snacks he buys. Cumulus sends him beautiful landscapes, and little I miss yous. They call call him–he speaks to at least one of them a day, usually more. 
The missing goes both ways. But they’re busy. He isn’t. Even with extra shifts, and begging Imperator for things to do–he even offers to help with taxes, which is a huge mistake, he still feels like he’s got too much time to think. 
He walks the grounds. Sits at the lake on warm summer days and thinks about how unfair it is that Rain is trapped on a bus and not here floating. He offers to help Sunshine take care of Mountain’s plants, but she waves him off. She’s been given very specific instructions, and one of them is to not let Aether anywhere near the greenhouse. 
He and Sunny cling to each other like a lifeline on harder nights. Especially once the rest of their pack has gone overseas and the timezones get more and more ridiculous to manage. They nap together, curled up in swatches of sunlight like cats. Aether wakes up warm, and comfortable, and loved and still feeling like one of his limbs has been removed. 
Dew calls him early one morning–before the sun is even up. It’s late wherever he is. Dark. Aether can barely see his face on the video call. Aether sits up in bed and rubs the sleep from his eyes. 
“Dew?” 
“Shit sorry, timezones. Forgot how early it is there. I can call later–”
“No,” Aether says quickly. Trying to force himself to look more awake. He turns on the light next to his bed. “No. No it’s fine. I’m up. Don’t go.” 
There must be something in his voice. A hitch. A tilt in pitch. Because Dew’s mouth pulls down just a little. A tiny frown of worry that Aether wishes he could reach through the screen and smooth away. 
“Not going anywhere, Starlight,” Dew promises. His bunk light switches on and Aether can see him better. Sitting up in the corner of his bunk. Phone resting on his knees. He’s eating chips from a bag that looks familiar. 
“Are you eating those weird chips Swiss got?” 
Dew nods. “I’m the only one who likes them. They’re good weird you know? You’d hate them.” 
Aether watches him chew and feels the ache start to ebb, just a little. The same way it always does when he gets one of his packmates to himself for a minute. When things feel unhurried and he can talk to them like they’re sitting next to him instead of a continent away. 
“Swiss said they tasted like ass.” 
“Probably why I like them,” Dew shrugs. Aether snorts. He smooths his hand over his face, dragging his fingers through the mess of his hair. 
“How many more weeks?” Aether asks, can’t help it. 
“Three,” Dew answers without hesitation. “Not that I’m counting.” 
“I am,” Aether admits. 
Dew frowns again, a little deeper. He looks at the screen a little too directly and Aether feels like he’s being seen in a way he isn’t ready for. 
“Yeah, Sunshine said you’ve been moping.”
“I haven’t been moping!”
Dew rolls his eyes. “Whatever. But just–you know we miss you too right? Like you’re not just stuck at home missing us while we have this grand adventure. It’s tour. It’s boring and humans are stupid and the food is awful. And it’s not the same without you.” 
“Isn’t Aeon doing–”
“Aeon’s fine. He’s good. He’s kicking ass every night but you know that isn’t what I mean. It isn’t all about the music you know.” 
Aether’s chest constricts. “I know.” 
“Nineteen days,” Dew says after a minute. He rolls the chip bag closed and for a minute that’s all Aether can hear, the ungodly crinkle of whatever magic material chip bags are made out of. “Less than three weeks.” 
“You are counting.” Aether teases. 
“Of course I’m counting,” Dew counters. “I’ve been counting since the day we left.” 
“You love touring.” 
“Yup,” Dew agrees, nodding. “I do. I still do. But I love you too, and just because I’m happy to be out here doesn’t mean I also don’t want to be there. I miss my bed. And being able to cook a meal that doesn’t come in a styrofoam cup. And you.” 
Aether feels his chest crack open, but this time it feels good. Warm. Like he really can reach out over all of these miles and slide his hand into Dew’s–just for a second. 
“You just miss me for my ass,” Aether teases. Awake now, and warm and loved despite his empty bed.  Dew laughs. “Well, I mean, it does taste better than those chips.”
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ragingstillness · 20 hours
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Second black butler meta I can’t help but post:
I absolutely adore black butler and Yana by association because of how incredibly self-aware it is. You don’t really recognize it on the first watch, especially if you only see the first season (or the forbidden second season), but the minute you reread/rewatch and have a larger context, it immediately becomes clear. I own a copy of the first manga volume and in the author’s note Yana makes a point of saying that her editor practically laughed her out of the room for suggesting a story about a character who is both a demon and a butler. So right off the bat, expectations set: this is going to be weird and wild.
And it is, but it’s also very aware of that. The little nods to historical events and discoveries, the blatant stealing of tropes from shonen and shoujo manga, the narrator-like quality of Sebastian’s cutaways, it’s almost a fourth wall break, an invitation to laugh at things that aren’t necessarily meant to be funny but are funny in larger context. For the most part the characters take their lives seriously and the audience gets the dramatic irony but that’s not always the case, see: Sebastian losing it over Ciel blushing at Lizzie, that stupid Phoenix pose, Ciel barely keeping it together as Lizzy plops a pink bonnet on Sebastian’s head. It’s funny from both a general and ironic perspective.
Within the assumption of the story being weird and wild Yana gets to do a lot of genre shifting and frankly I love it. One minute we’re hunting Jack the Ripper, next we’re training to be pop stars, then we’re fighting werewolves, then we’re navigating a cricket game at boarding school. Not a lot of stories get away with that much genre shifting in quick succession but Black Butler does it effortlessly.
They’re particularly good at catching the reader off guard with a funny moment in a serious scene but even better at turning something fun dark on a dime. This is very very hard to do and Yana gets away with it because of how neatly she’s melded the different aspects of the story much like how she melded Sebastian’s character traits.
Ciel is an emotionally immature 13-year-old boy but he’s also an extremely traumatized orphan with murderous tendencies. Sebastian is both a polished servant and a savage demon. Finny is a happy gardener and a disillusioned former test subject. Mey-Rin is a clumsy maid and a former child soldier. Bard is a useless arrogant cook and a soldier running to and from every battlefield he sees.
The ability of these things to coexist, allows for the side by side existence of Ciel failing to be a circus performer and fighting through a flashback to murder a sadistic serial killer. If the story didn’t embody the complexity of the characters and vice versa, one of the two would feel odd and jarring. It’s a beautiful depiction of the chicken and the egg question of plot being driven by character but also driving character.
The genre switching is also just fun, because it pulls in an element often seen in fanfiction which is the AU (alternate universe). While the different arcs still exist in the same universe, the vital aspect of “how would these characters react in this situation” is maintained.
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arliedraws · 22 hours
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I find it many things weird in Harry Potter, in general the plot holes are everywhere and things when you think about them just don't make much sense, even in storytelling perspective, and consistency.
One thing that I find appalling is how Sirius didn't notice the scarring on Harry's hand, from Umbridges lines. It's established canonically they're lasting scars. Sirius already had to watch from the literal shadows how Harry was enrolled in that tournament, already fearing for his godsons life bc he suspected Voldemort was involved. How couldn't any responsible guardian, not notice Harry was physically abused, again, under Dumbledores nose, but away from Sirius direct influence to be able to do anything. Then on top of that, Snape is gonna to do the occlumensy lessons, and while Sirius knew that was necessary, I mean, he was outraged when he heared Snape stopped it, but ok, he let it all slide? If I were Sirius I would have pulled Harry out myself for that year, enough is enough. If Dumbledores presence didn't prevent Harry's suffering, in fact his choices add to Harry's real physical abuse (Dursleys, certain teachers). Sirius could educate Harry theoretical until Umbridge was gone. Harrry was save enough in Grimmauld during christmas and the summer so why not.
Its like those I mustn't tell lies scars only are there when needed and then forgotten during times of the plot supporting characters might have reacted to them, like Sirius or whomever. Sirius is a genius wizard but can't turn into an unassuming anonymous figure to go outside, like Hermione did to Ron's features with just her wand and spells in b7, negating need for polyjuice, it's his dog form or permanent housearrest (which leads to disintegration of his mind /character and then he dies)
At some point I'm really suspect this is character driven anymore and just JKs incompetence to consistently implement Sirius's character. Like you already said somewhere here, he is a miracle character. Too clever, too bright, too loyal to continue in the story JK wanted to tell like you said somewhere before. I have a feeling JK didn't know what to do with Sirius, denigrated him and his character and then killed him off. His best role at the end to fulfill is to reinforce Harry's suffering and loneliness it seems, while Sirius actually was the main hope of Harry in the heart of the series. So meaningless!
While I love character metas, I think JK is a meanspirited woman, I always had that notion bc she reacted in some ways, even before the whole modern eh, shenanigans. And that meanness, pettiness and inconclusive attitude reflect in hps worldbuilding.
I agree with several points here!
If Sirius had been in a better mental space, I agree that he would have noticed the scars from the blood quill. However, we could also interpret this as Sirius being exceptionally depressed. Now, I’m not defending JKR here, but one thing we do have to remember is that Sirius was a convicted murderer and Harry’s legal guardians were the Dursleys. Sirius literally has no say in what Harry does. Sirius is not a person with rights—in the eyes of the law, he is due to have his soul sucked out. Anytime Sirius makes a decision on Harry’s behalf, it’s a courtesy thing, not a legal guardian thing. Unfortunately. It’s gross to say, but legally, Molly has the same rights as Sirius to tell Harry what to do—which is, gross.
Also, sure, Sirius could go out of number 12 in disguise but he’s in hiding because he knows he can’t risk his own safety for Harry’s sake. Dumbledore has made it very clear that Sirius is not to leave, and frankly, by the way Harry believed he had to rescue Sirius, this was actually probably the right call. Sirius is the most important person to Harry (and likewise), and if Sirius were taken captive by either the Ministry or Voldemort, Harry would done something unwise (which…he did). I’m not arguing that this is how it should have gone down, but theoretically (if you ignore the importance of mental health and stability lol), this should have been the right call.
But the point is, Voldemort’s ability to manipulate people and destroy friendships is what killed Sirius. Voldemort manipulated Dumbledore who thought he was smarter than Voldemort; Dumbledore prioritized keeping Harry alive but sacrificed Sirius in the end. I do think JKR punishes Sirius for being smart and attractive (lol), calling him rash when he’s really…not, but I think it’s important to recognize that even the smartest, most caring people can make mistakes and overlook the pain of the people they love most.
I think Sirius is partially in denial about some of Harry’s struggles. As a man of action, Sirius’s inclination is to fix things, and when he cannot fix in the way he believes is necessary, he shuts down. He comes alive at the end of OotP when he is able to help in the way he wants—and then JKR kills him for it lol.
Anyway, just some thoughts. I don’t actually think Sirius was behaving out-of-character, but I think JKR was unmerciful in putting this fictional character into situations that brought out the worst in him because it served the plot. Just my two cents though!
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catboybiologist · 2 hours
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i just had a moment
i wonder how many people on this were, in a way, saved from an alt-right pipeline by realizing and accepting that they're queer.
like 12-13 year old me was going on like /pol/ and shit before the dysphoria hit
just makes you think
Oh yay this is causing me to ramble
I think that being targeted by some form of radicalization was genuinely part of the reality of being a white kid online in the 200Xs to 201Xs.
I don't think I was fully on that pipeline, but I was 3000% an obnoxious neolib atheist as a teenager. The kind of person that describes themselves as "socially progressive, economically conservative", engaged with MRA stuff online with shallow "but what about men" sentiments, thought many protests had "the right idea, but are too extreme, we should just debate", and generally considered myself better than everyone else because of how "smart" and "rational" I was.
You know the type. This was when I was like... 14-17yo. And before you scoff at it being "dumb teenage shit", the alt right targeted those people, at that age and time, hard. I turned 18 in 2016, and that election was my first, coming right off of an online climate relentlessly trying to radicalize kids... So yeah, it was weird.
I feel like the ones that didn't become alt right gradually slid into leftism. Usually, the "revelation" moment was when you're excluded. You realize a lot of these people's "rationality" is based on irrational biases that they're dressing up as "logic", and it all crumbles. PoC and other minoritized groups are excluded form the start, of course, but since being queer is something that doesn't awaken until a bit later in life, it creates a kind of unique experience of potentially falling down that hole, until you realize you can't be a part of it.
But also to be fair... the same environment that caused a lot of the radicalization also fostered a lot of the communities we love. Modern "breadtube", as annoying as that term is, is an offshoot of this as well. Beyond just a few online-famous people, there's larger circles of leftist communities that have organized and done real, active good. I still carry some streaks of that stuff around, and I'm probably less extreme than most terminally online queer leftist circles. But idk. A bit of that weird, "rational worship" online vibe has done good, even if it's also done a lot of harm.
Honestly, everything I'm talking about here is extremely well summarized by Contrapoint's tangent about New Atheism. It's a Patreon exclusive, but it's a topic I saw myself reflected in a lot.
If my ramble here is shitty/incomplete and feels like I'm being apologetic or trying to excuse the alt right, that's an error in communication, not my actual intent- I hope that's clear.
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dotthings · 7 hours
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Just to show how systemically weird this anti-found family bs has been in spn fandom, one of the co-mods of the largest, oldest spn fandom website despises found family and the ensemble cast. It's been some years now since that website did anything or showed any relevance at all, so good riddance, but it does demonstrate how the lane that supports the brothers the most got hijacked by hatred. And that side seems to think the only way to be a "bros fan" is be...just like them, you must go on bended knee and vow your exclusive devotion to the "bro bond" and if you show any signs of caring about found family too much, you will be expelled from the holy church of Sam and Dean and aren't a fan. Reality is that many fans love the bro bond who overlap heavily with the found family, holistic love for spn, love TFW, Cas, Misha, Donna, Jody, Rowena, and others, ship Destiel or at least are conscious of why it matters even if it's not their thing (or if they hate it, they don't make it a crusade to hate it), and care about Sam and about Dean and about Cas. One of the weirdest things about spn fandom has been how its self-labeled "core base" of "bros fans" punishes fans who actually like the show overall. And it's been like this since 2005.
I understand the roots of it since the first 2 seasons were a lot smaller in scale. But even the first 2 seasons made it clear the show was about family and found family.
Rewatching spn removed from bad faith fandom narratives is a really good idea. The story itself, the canon, is...it's right there. And always has been.
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television-overload · 10 hours
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of our own making
(an X-Files fanfic)
Chapter 14/34 - styrofoam gravestones
[Read on AO3]
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Skinner gleefully calls their joint adventure to Los Angeles a “honeymoon,” though Scully is sure no one else would consider the movie they'd just been subjected to a worthy use of their time if it had been.
‘Worse than anticipated’ might come close to describing it, actually. 
The trip itself is fine. The insinuation that this is their honeymoon (from their boss, no less) causes them to blush. Skinner knows he's making it weird, which is probably why he keeps teasing them about it every time he sees them. Thankfully, despite the awkward hazing, their boss sets them up with separate rooms.
And apparently has given them free reign of the Bureau credit card for the evening. 
The piece of plastic is burning a hole in her pocket as Scully goes out in search of her partner following the premiere. The studio lot looks much the same as it had when they'd visited before, over a year ago. Even some of the sets are still up, probably from last minute reshoots, and it's here that she finds Mulder, seated amongst the styrofoam gravestones and fake grass.
He'd taken the movie harder than she had, she thinks. After all, it's his life's work they're making a mockery of, not really hers. She's much more bothered by the bizarre love triangle the filmmakers somehow worked in, wondering how on earth they'd come to that conclusion in their short time together.
Mulder had disappeared after a particularly ridiculous scene taking place in a coffin, abandoning her to a sheepish-looking Skinner, who handed over the credit card without a word as soon as the credits rolled.
But now she sees him, and he's not moping like she'd expected after seeing him walk out of the theater in a huff.
Instead, he's staring straight ahead, frozen like one of the statues in the middle of the fake cemetery, seemingly lost in thought.
“Been looking all over for you,” she says, taking a seat beside him on the artificial hill.
“Yeah. Sorry I left. I couldn't take it anymore,” he answers, his blank stare never wavering. 
“That's saying a lot, coming from you,” she jokes, nudging against him with her shoulder. “I'm pretty sure your tolerance for bad sci-fi movies is higher than most.”
He doesn't respond, and it's then that she notices his open cell phone laying in his hand.
“You okay?” she asks. 
He looks down at his own hand as if seeing it for the first time, and snaps the device shut.
“I, uh—” he starts, shaking his head to clear his thoughts. “While I was out here, I got a call.”
A knot of anxiety twists in her stomach. That call could be from any number of people, and she can’t tell from his expression what it might have been about. He's shaken, that much is clear.
She suddenly wishes she hadn't eaten a full bowl of popcorn in the theater.
“They tried calling you first,” he continues. “But your phone was on silent during the movie.”
Her eyebrows furrow and she hurries to dig her cell phone out of her purse, checking the display.
2 missed calls.
“Mulder, who—”
“The adoption agency,” he says, cutting her off, and it feels like the floor drops out from beneath her.
She's breathing, but it doesn't feel like she's getting any air. It's impossible to tell if it's good news or bad news yet, but her voice has suddenly stopped working and she can't bring herself to ask.
His hand finds hers, grasping on tightly.
“They approved our application, pending a home visit,” he says, a disbelieving smile beginning to form on his lips.
“They did?” she asks breathlessly, and he nods.
“And there's more.”
What more could there possibly be? She feels like crying, but she doesn't know if she can. The whirlwind of emotions is overwhelming.
“They found someone,” he says. “A possible match.”
That does it. A watery smile pulls at her cheeks, and she can hardly believe it, except she trusts this man with her entire being and he would never lie to her.
“That quick?” she asks.
He nods again. “They said they know it's fast, but the plans for the last placement fell through and they need someone who can be ready in the next four months or so.”
“Four months?”
“A young woman, already five months pregnant.”
She can't help it, she leans forward and wraps him in a crushing hug, throwing her arms over his shoulders and holding on. He holds her just as tight, and she feels his beaming smile in the crook of her neck, matching her own.
“Why didn't you come get me?” she gasps into his ear, absolutely certain she's never been this happy in her entire life.
“I wanted to,” he says, amusement lacing his voice. “My legs stopped working as soon as I heard the words ‘application’ and ‘approved’ and I had to sit down.”
This draws a laugh from deep in her chest, and she pulls him even tighter, cupping her hand over the back of his head and running her fingers through his hair.
When she finally pulls back, she sees his eyes filled with tears of joy, and she knows her own look the same.
“Really?” she asks, needing to clarify. Wanting to hear him say it again. And then maybe again later.
“Yeah, Scully,” he says, gripping her hands in his own. “Really.”
Suddenly, the movie doesn't seem so bad anymore. Who cares, it'll tank anyway. They have better things to worry about.
They're going out to celebrate, and Skinner can pick up the tab. It may not be their honeymoon, but it's a celebration of their relationship nonetheless, a culmination of their time as partners and the beginning of their journey toward becoming parents.
She stands determinedly, pulling Mulder to his feet and interlocking her arm with his, grinning up at him giddily.
“Let's go,” she says, flashing the credit card proudly.
He gladly takes it from her, laughing freely as they begin to stumble out of the graveyard arm in arm.
“Scully,” he says, tossing his cheap plastic Lazarus Bowl behind him as they walk. “Promise me you're not in love with Associate Producer Walter Skinner?”
-.-.-
It's just a week later when a knock on Scully's apartment door signals the arrival of the representative from the adoption agency for the home visit. They'd spent the week frantically getting things in order in their limited time after work, finally integrating the items brought over from Mulder's apartment with her own. Mulder had even gotten one of the pictures from their courthouse wedding framed, and it held a place of honor on top of the fireplace mantle in the living room.
Every time she passes it, she feels her heart skip a beat. There are precious few pictures of the two of them together, and that one is the most special of them all. It makes her feel like she has that “normal” life she'd asked him about, once—though of course there is nothing normal about this arrangement they have. 
“Mulder, she's here. Is everything ready?” she says, feeling slightly queasy.
“Ready, Scully,” he answers, and she shoots him a look.
They'd talked about this at length already, so he should know better. “You can’t call me that, remember?”
He tilts his head downward challengingly, the exaggerated eye contact sending a shiver up her spine, and she knows what's coming before the word leaves his mouth.
“Dana,” he breathes in a low rasp, smirking at her visible reaction to how odd it still feels to hear her given name spoken aloud outside of the most dire circumstances.
Oh boy.
“What exactly will you be calling me? Fox?” he asks next, moving to adjust one of the chairs at the kitchen table.
“I seriously don’t think I can,” she answers. “I’ll think of something, but if I have to, I suppose I will.”
“You know, you’re the only person who’s ever listened to me and not called me Fox, I think,” he comments, his eyes tracking her as she approaches the door. “Other than maybe the Gunmen.”
“And now it just sounds completely wrong coming out of my mouth, so I won’t be doing it anytime soon if I can help it,” she says in a clipped tone, knowing the caseworker is waiting right on the other side of the wall.
“I appreciate that.”
She rolls her eyes, which only makes his smile brighten. “Shut up and get over here,” she says, jerking her head toward the doorway. 
He readily obeys, sliding into place beside her with his arm over her shoulders before she opens the door to the woman on the other side.
“Ms. Koske, hi! Come on in,” Scully says, far more cheerily than her usual affect. 
Mulder catches her eyes, and they flash in warning. Cool it down, they say. Be yourself. She'll do her best to take his advice, but it's hard. This is a key moment in their already fraught path to parenthood. She doesn't want to mess it all up with one small mistake. Not after they've come this far.
“Good to see you, Ms. Scully,” Ms. Koske greets her with a smile and a nod as she enters. “Mr. Mulder.”
“Would you like anything to drink? Coffee? Tea? Water?” She needs something to do with her hands, so she shoves them in her pockets, hoping the answer will be yes so she can distract herself from her nerves.
“I’m alright, but thank you,” Brenda says politely. “Maybe after you’ve shown me around a little?”
Thankfully, Mulder takes the reins after that, probably sensing her unease. 
“Of course, right this way, Ms. Koske,” he says, separating himself from her side—a loss which she feels acutely. He leads the woman further into the apartment, winking at Scully behind her back as he goes.
Scully takes a deep breath, collecting herself. She's not sure why she's so nervous. She and Mulder have read every piece of adoption planning literature they could get their hands on, and quadruple checked that they had everything right before today. Still, she'll always be the one to worry that they missed something.
Thankfully, Mulder keeps cool under pressure. At least in situations like this.
“Any pets?” Brenda is asking him by the time Scully catches up to them in the hallway. She can see that the woman already has a half a page full of notes on her clipboard, not that she can make out any of it.
“Just my fish,” Mulder answers easily. “Although, Sc– Dana had a dog a few years ago.”
Scully clears her throat, deciding now is the time to jump in and be an active participant in this visit.
“Maybe we could get another one after we move to a bigger house, hmm?” she asks. Mulder’s unamused expression is exactly what she was hoping for, but he quickly schools it before Ms. Koske can see. 
She's partially teasing about getting a dog—payback for him blindsiding her with the ‘new house’ idea at their previous interview. But it might be nice, someday. 
Besides, he can’t exactly say no right now, can he?
She grins.
“Whatever you want, my love,” he responds, his overly saccharine smile telling her, ‘two can play that game.’
“How long have you been keeping fish, Mr. Mulder?” Brenda asks, oblivious to the subtle unspoken conversation happening right over her head. She stoops to look at the mollies with interest, tilting her head in response to the U.F.O. themed decor.
“Oh, uh, probably over a decade now,” Mulder answers, turning his attention back to their guest and his gleaming fish tank, in its prized new location.
Brenda raises her eyebrows, scratching something on her clipboard. 
“Impressive. They’re more work to take care of than most people think,” she speaks, and Scully hopes that translates to ‘If you can keep a fish alive, you can definitely handle a human child,’ even if the logic there isn't exactly sound.
Off the hallway, next Mulder shows her to the bathroom, which had been meticulously cleaned the day before. Scully doesn't know how someone could make such a mess with toothpaste, but Mulder’s tooth brushing quirks like squeezing the toothpaste tube wrong have been a constant pain in her neck since he started sleeping over. At least that's the worst of her worries. Otherwise, he's been a very agreeable living partner, even putting his shoes away instead of leaving them out after the time she almost tripped on them with an armful of groceries.
Brenda peeks inside cabinets and checks the bathtub, annotating as she goes on her clipboard.
“Are your medicines kept secure and in a child-safe place?” she asks, looking to Scully.
“Yes, I was a doctor before I left to join the FBI,” she answers readily. “I can assure you that I know all the dangers and keep them stored safely.”
Brenda nods, seemingly impressed. 
“A doctor,” she says. “Do you have any experience with children’s medicine?”
Scully shakes her head. “Just a rotation in med school,” she answers honestly. She knows realistically that this won't impact her chances of adopting, but still she wishes she had a better answer. “I, uh… went in a different direction.”
The woman smiles. “Not a problem, I was just curious. It’s good to hear that you have a background in medicine, that will certainly help.” Scully lets out a sigh of relief as Brenda scrawls something down, then turns her attention to her partner. “Mr. Mulder, what did you do before the FBI?”
The question catches Mulder off guard, and he rubs a hand over the back of his neck. “Oh, I– I got recruited not long after I completed my degree in psychology.”
“Did you ever practice?” Brenda asks.
“No, I didn’t.”
“But, I’m sure you have a general understanding of children’s psychology from your studies, yes?”
Scully looks to Mulder, curious about his answer herself.
“I do, yeah,” he says. “But, actually, most of my knowledge in that… area… comes from personal experience.”
The caseworker nods in understanding. “I hope you don’t mind my asking… I know this is a little less formal than our last interview, but I’d still like to be thorough.” The implication that he should expound on his answer is clear.
“No, I understand,” he says, nodding. “Uh, when I was twelve, my little sister disappeared. She was never found, and it… tore my family apart. I spent most of my adolescence bouncing between therapists until I went off to college in England.”
Brenda gives a sad shake of her head and makes a note.
“You two have quite a history,” she says, unmistakable traces of pity in her voice. “I can see why you were drawn to each other, and why you’re looking to start a family.”
Scully catches Mulder’s eye, and they share a look. This woman doesn't know the half of it, but she's right. Their bond is rooted deeper than most, deeper even than the average married couple.
All they want now is to move forward with their lives. To have a spot of sunshine after years of darkness and suffering. Somehow, that desire turned into the dream of starting a family, and it's hard to believe how far they've come in a few short months.
“I think I’ve seen enough in here,” Ms. Koske says, breaking the sullen silence that had fallen. “Would you mind showing me your room?”
“Of course,” Scully says, smiling a forced smile as she leads the way. “Our room.”
Because it is their room, as far as Brenda needs to be concerned. She doesn’t need to know that Mulder actually sleeps on the bed that’s in the spare bedroom, now that it’s been moved from his apartment. All it took was moving a few more of his personal belongings into Scully’s room and making his room look like a guest room, and their little white lie was perfected.
“Looks like you’ve got a good variety of reading material, here,” Brenda says, eyes trailing over the bookshelf. “Medical journals, Moby Dick … The Truth About Extraterrestrial Life Forms. That one’s… unique.”
“My husband is a big fan of science fiction,” Scully says, the explanation coming easily to her. She even managed to use the word “husband” without stuttering over it, for once. Easier than saying “Fox,” in all honesty.
When she looks up at said husband, though, he's suppressing an amused smile, and she shakes her head, her cheeks undoubtedly flushing pink.
Brenda nods at her answer, smiling warmly as she stands back up to her full height. “Yes, I can see that. You’ll have to make some space for children’s literature. They’re classics, but I love to recommend Dr. Seuss.”
Scully’s heart twists, and Mulder’s eyebrows raise almost imperceptibly, a meaningful look passing between them in the span of a second.
She doesn't want to get her hopes up yet, but…
“I’ll buy a whole other bookshelf, if I have to,” Mulder says eagerly, chuckling softly, and Scully feels herself fall even deeper in love with him.
Brenda pats him on the arm, an approving smile stretching her cheeks. 
“Now, that’s what I like to hear.”
-.-.-
The rest of the tour goes smoothly, and Brenda takes Scully up on her offer for tea prior to her departure.
The conversation topics are decidedly lighter as they sip on the warm drinks. Mulder regales her with tales of growing up on Martha's Vineyard, keeping things in the safer territory of beach days and riding bikes, rather than touching on his home life. 
Before long, their cups are empty and they get to their feet, moving slowly toward the apartment door.
“Well, everything looks good here,” Brenda says, tucking her clipboard into her bag. “Clean, not too small, good neighborhood, healthy food. Shouldn’t be too difficult to childproof, for however long you plan to stay here. And, your experience in medicine and psychology should certainly work in your favor.” 
Scully reaches a hand out and finds Mulder's, and he must have been searching for hers too, because he's right there, clasping her palm in his. 
“I have no qualms recommending you to our birth mother,” Brenda declares with a beaming smile. “I’m sure we’ll be able to set up a meeting with her soon.”
She grabs Scully’s hand for a cordial handshake, then shakes Mulder's, and all the while Scully can scarcely move or breathe. Had she heard that correctly? They were really going to get a shot at this?
For the first time, she lets herself envision them with a child. Baby toys scattered on the living room carpet. Mushy baby food lining the shelves of her pantry. Mulder as a father, ever the involved parent like he says he wants to be.
That was something she hadn't ever truly allowed herself to imagine. Not even when embryos bearing his DNA had been implanted into her womb, while he waited supportively in the waiting area.
For the first time, it's real, and she can barely hold herself together.
Mulder thanks the woman for them both, smiling broadly as he opens the door for her, but Scully can't hear them over the sound of her heart racing. She manages to mumble a thank you and goodbye before the apartment door closes, unable to muster anything more substantial than that.
And the moment they're alone, tears erupt from her eyes, hot and wet on her cheeks.
Mulder doesn't waste a second pulling her into his arms, holding her tight to his chest. She feels herself being lifted a few inches off the ground, and he buries his face in her shoulder, grasping her securely around the waist. 
She can't speak, can't do anything but cry into his shoulder and picture their life together. Beyond the X-Files, beyond alien abductions and missing sisters. Finally, finally beyond manipulative ex-girlfriends and smoky shadow governments, who now lie in dirt and ashes.
There's a life for them, beyond, and she wants it now more than she ever thought she would.
“One step closer,” Mulder whispers into her neck, his voice choked with emotion.
She can only nod and hold him tighter in response.
~~~
Note: Apparently Hollywood A.D. takes place in January 2000?? I'm going with it.
Lovely tag list ♡: [if you would like to be added or removed, let me know!]
@today-in-fic @ao3feed-msr @agent-troi @angegova @baronessblixen @calimanc @captainsolocide @clo-thespin @cutemothman @danasculls @deathsbestgirl @edierone @enigmaticxbee @figureofdismay @frogsmulder @gillian-anderson-in-the-tardis @hippocampouts @invidiosa @monaiargancoconutsoy @msrafterdark @numinousmysteries @primrose19 @randomfoggytiger @skelavender @skylarksong @stephy-gold @teenie-xf @the-redhead-in-a-dress @vincentsleftear
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rubykgrant · 16 hours
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OK, my thoughts about the final season of RVB! If you haven't seen it yet, warning for SPOILERS!
In general, I thought it was alright. The good parts were GOOD, but it felt kind of rushed, and a few things were disappointing. Certain parts I wish had been different, but I'm glad it exists. Watching it with lots of cool people made it fun, and it had a decent enough ending for what it was... though, after so many years, so many characters, just so MUCH of a story, I wish things had been a little MORE. It was a shame it was so short and rushed. I'm still glad the people who worked on it got it done, and we were all able to see it.
So. Actual thoughts on different bits...
I'm somebody who enjoys seasons 15-16-17, so while it will always be real in my heart, if they HAD to do a ret-con, having a spoof with a Retro Convention was VERY funny. Kai would absolutely milk her relation to Grif for some attention. I thought it was weird that Dylan was there, but she was a convention host? I feel like it would have made more sense for her to be one of the people asking questions about where the Reds and Blues went (y'know, like she ACTUALLY DID in 15). Oh well.
Things were very rushed... if this had been a more full season (or, in my perfect world, a story split into 2, so we get 19 and 20 out of it. I'm sorry, it just bugs my brain when something ends on a 9 instead of a 10. that's a ME problem), there could have been more of a Big Reveal about Tucker being the Meta. HOWEVER, since things were very condensed, I can appreciate how amusing it is to have Epsilon info-dump the plot to every body.
I did get a chuckle out of Epsilon being a "recorded prediction program" and not the true AI, and he decided to just be an obnoxious little youtuber. Like, that was so awful, it was AWESOME. It is also something that would have made Alpha Church super ticked off, which is very fitting. Good job Epsilon, 10 out of 10~
I was so happy to see Sheila and Lopez! Mechanical love lives on. It was a bit meh seeing the Reds act like they don't care about Caboose (we've been there, done that), but some of the funny bits that followed and Simmons getting Sarge interested by bribing him with Blue Defeat saved it (listen, these guys have been insisting they hate each other for 2 decades, but they can literally not live without each other. let them just admit they are ALL FRIENDS). Grif ranting was excellent.
No Donut is some major BS! Look, I get it, we stole the spot-light in 16-17, he was the time-god's most specialest pink princess and a harbinger of death, it can be intimidating to include something so powerful after trying to erase all that from existence... but come on. With all the important call-backs and connections 19 made with previous seasons, AND having the ending be in Blood Gulch? DONUT SHOULD HAVE BEEN THERE AND HE SHOULD HAVE THROWN THE AI UNIT. No, I mean it, imagine the thing gets knocked really far away, maybe from an explosion, and Donut throws it clear across the canyon, because you KNOW he can! This time instead of it being a grenade that kills Tex, she catches the unit, tra-la-la, it all comes together. I'm sorry, Simmons doing the cool sports-ball throw was fun, but... Donut. DONUT!
Alright, moving on. It felt a little awkward that Wash is yet again hurt, and nobody is there with him? Oh wait, Doc is there, except no he isn't. Listen. Listen. I love plural Wash. I also love the idea of him genuinely having an emotional connection with Doc, because it DOES make sense; when Wash kid-napped him, Doc just kept making all his sarcastic little comments the whole time, and it tricked Wash into having real conversations with him. I honestly think that if Doc hadn't been with them, Wash wouldn't have been so open to the idea of finally settling down after his Villain Moment. They also both have a lot in common with AI incidents, and again, Villain Moments. I'm just annoyed that the Pacifist and the Original Bad Boy evidently died. Off screen. Give me back my purple boys. If we need to have Wash Not Be Around for a while, have him and Carolina go off to track down Hargrove or something. Maybe they went to two different locations, and Wash gets back to the others first, so we still get Carolina to the rescue.
Anyway, the plot! There was a lot of funny bits when it came to looking for Tucker, getting into the ship with the "video call security", and Niner being there! Hooray! I am... a little disappointed about WHY and HOW Tucker is a "villain". Obviously, I can't picture him being legit EVIL, but the idea that he's just the physical puppet being controlled by the AI isn't very... good. I understand how it was explained, sure, but still. I know I keep rambling about my own thoughts for alternate scenarios, but I can't help it! I just don't like when Sigma (or Omega) are just plain EVIL, for no reason. They've always been more complicated than that (the Meta wanted to be HUMAN, remember. and Omega even told Epsilon "I'll be here if you need me". they are definitely different kinds of harsh and intense, but they aren't the Murder AI or the Evil AI). I don't like that Tucker is being tortured into doing what they say... a more subtle manipulation, the Fragments not only convincing Tucker but also themselves that they NEED to do all this to get Alpha back, is very intriguing. After Epsilon Deconstructed, the Fragments lost their Memories. They just know they aren't complete. Tucker just knows he wants to talk to his best friend again.
If it needs another push to make it more insidious, I'd buy that Meta suit being a trap to begin with; Hargrove probably had that thing rigged to make it into a trap for anybody that wore it, so they'd have this subliminal inclination to collect all the AI, and kill anybody in their way. Something-something forgetting what your motives are, and only caring about the GOAL. Tucker and the Fragments ALL need to remember who they are and why they want the Alpha; it isn't about being a weapon. If there was more of a fake-out/reveal of Tucker being the Meta, maybe with a false hint of it being Felix with the orange/black colors, a sign that Tucker is still in there would be him getting close to killing everybody... but he backs off each time.
Speaking of killing... Sarge. Oh, Sarge. I will admit that, just from a thematic point of view, yes- it works to have a Sarge death. I don't care for it being Tucker that did it, or that Donut isn't there to share the moment as well. Matt Hullum acted the HECK out of that scene, though. In fact, the whole bit of Sarge running back to save Caboose, and trapping Tucker with a bubble shield, was AWESOME. I didn't want Sarge to die... but he went out wearing his red armor, and told Grif and Simmons he cared about them. It was sad, but it was well done. In my perfect world, we just THINK he died, but then at the end it is revealed he's still alive! How? Well, Doc gave him CPR! Doc isn't dead either, that is integral you see. I'm not sure of Sarge going "Hurgh Bleh" would have been better or WORSE. Well, heck. I wish he wasn't dead, but as much as I hate it, I... didn't totally hate it?
I kind of wish Simmons had more of a break-down over it. I wanna see him lose his temper. OR, he acts so quiet and cold, it is just UNNERVING. Then Grif helps snap him out of it. Let's be real, those two are so co-dependant, it ain't even funny. I appreciate Simmons telling Grif he is officially free to leave, and the conversation of "Come with me" leading to Simmons saying he wants to see this through, and Grif agreeing to come along was good. Simmons has aspired to be an impressive soldier from the beginning, and Grif has just wanted to be DONE. In the end, they meet in the middle.
I may be a sappy Grimmons person, but I can say, as objectively as possible, they should NOT be separated at the end. Grif and Simmons are literally the introduction to the series. They were the first two characters we see, they have been side by side almost CONSTANTLY, they are always bickering but they are also each other's favorite person. I don't even mean in a shippy way, it is just a fact. To have them say good-bye and just leave each other is honestly out of character (we saw that before, remember, in 15; Grif got so guilty about it, Simmons came to the realization that opposites attract, and they finally had to admit they missed each other. it was a WHOLE THING). I think it would have worked if, after telling Grif he's free to leave at the end, Simmons waits minute, then starts following him-
Grif; What are you doing?
Simmons; Coming with you. What the hell else would I do?
And that is that, wherever they do, they're together. Also, Kai shows up and HUGS HER BRO, come on, please!
Now, as a sappy Grimmons person, they should have just gone through with it. It has been more than 20 years. Seriously. We all know it. People who don't even care about the ship know it. Just commit to the freaking bit. Stop being cowards. Let them hold hands, or hug, or gently bump the visor of their helmets together, SOMETHING. Show them taking a walk on the beach together, all lovey-dovey. We deserve some emotional satisfaction after a 2 decade queer-bait slow-burn. JUST DO IT.
Sigh... OK, that is out of my system.
My absolute FAVORITE thing in 19 was Tex. She was so freaking PERFECT. I love Caboose telling the unit a story, his way of bringing her back, because that was how he talked to Epsilon. It was so sweet. When they asked Caboose why he brought her back instead of Church, he told them- "Because I wanted to win". Listen, Caboose LOVES Church, but he knows what is up. It was hilarious to see her go through the teleporter to get her black armor back. I absolutely ADORED her saying she's NOT a "failure" anymore, because she's not just based on the Director's memories of losing his wife, she's also got the memories of the guys who REMEMBER HER KICKING THEIR ASSES. 100 percent, Tex return was the best. Her reuniting with Church was also very sweet... the only thing I would have liked more would be the other Fragments showing up in there, so they can all be together (and Church gives Theta a hug; he doesn't even need his memories yet, he just knows he loves Theta).
I didn't care much for deleting the Fragments at the end, but I get the "reasoning". Like, sure. Fine. In my perfect world, Caboose gives the unit to Carolina, so someday, when they're all "ready to wake up again", she can see her family. Wash taking the fall to alert Carolina was both kinda wonky, but also very funny, and hey- it got her there! Again, I don't know why she wasn't there with Wash from the beginning. Also, just. A few characters being dead, and most of the others splitting up at the end... nah. They all need to live together and be friends and be happy and be OK! Like, come on. They've had a lot of "endings" in this series that were bitter-sweet, or kind of sad. I know life doesn't always have a happily ever after... but just once, give them that.
OH, and ANOTHER THING; if things had been just slightly different, if both the Fragments and Tucker sort of "forgot" who they are, the way to remind Tucker should have been JUNIOR. Heck, maybe Carolina was off finding Tucker's kid, and when they come back Junior gets his dad to remember who he really is... but the suit is still controlling him, forcing him to fight. I just want a happy Tucker family reunion. Give that kid his daddy back. Even if Junior isn't there for the big conflict, he should have shown up at the end, with Tucker promising they won't be separated again.
Well, that sure was a lot! The final season was a lot, in a short amount of time! Again, I wish certain things were different, but I'm happy I could see it. Even after everything, all the good and bad parts, I know that it still isn't "the end". I've got a lot of ideas for stories, and so do many other fans out there. I know people are going to keep sharing their thoughts, creating their art, telling their stories... because a universe without stories? That's just empty space.
Bow-chicka-Bye Now!
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googleitlol · 2 days
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I just had such an odd dream?? Abt Lego monkie kid season 5??? It was so weird and I wanna share it, but I’m also gonna leave a TW for suicide because ??? Idek what this dream was 😭
It started with my friend (who doesn’t even watch the show) sending me a video on Instagram that’s just, like, the entire first episode?? So I start watching it and it follows MK and his friends (minus Monkey King) checking out this spooky abandoned building that kind of looks reminiscent of Macaque’s theatre
Macaque is there too, as part of the group, and he’s just depressed. Like bro is gloomy, talking like Misery from Ruby Gloom. Anyway, I’m not sure if they’re trying to track down this ghost or stop some sort of paranormal activity, but the gang needed Macaque’s help in order to do it.
But for some reason, it’s super dangerous for Macaque to do whatever he has to do, like only the strongest shadow magic can do this (I still don’t know what it even is that he’s supposed to be doing) and because of how depressed he is, his magic is also weaker. Pigsy and Tang straight up roast him saying he has the weakest shadow magic they’ve ever seen, and that if he tries doing whatever they asked him to do, he’ll likely die but Macaque knows this and makes it clear that’s what he wants
He tries doing it and there’s some really cool black and white animation from his magic that swirls around and he does some mega anime yell then BAM they’re all in an arcade.
They all go looking for Macaque since they don’t believe he’s really dead and eventually they find him on this game that’s a table projecting the game 3D onto itself. It’s formatted very much like Street Fighter, with the health bar, and opponents one either side ready to fight, but it’s macaque fighting the most random characters. Like, think Smash Bros. He’s fighting Sonic and Kirby at different points.
Anyway, it’s revealed he’s fighting them because the thing he did didn’t end up killing him, so he’s hoping to die in combat but he keeps winning which makes him even more depressed 😭
MK somehow uses his phone to send these messages that project into the game so Macaque can see them, and it’s all messages about how much they love him and need him in their lives, and to not do this to himself. The messages end up getting through to him, and decides to leave the game. But when he does, he stays small and sort of turns into a squishy version of himself?
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Like one of these squish toys but that version of himself.
He was still sentient as a toy tho, and kept trying to fall out of MK’s hands to splat to his death, so I guess he changed his mind abt not wanting to kill himself?? Like it is a STRUGGLE to not let him fall, he’s like a cat that turns into liquid, or just super liquid-slime and droops down, and is just barely caught but he keeps drooping so MK has to just cup this tiny squish toy macaque in his hands.
Anyway, that’s the dream. Why did I dream of this? Idk, maybe it was a sign to rewatch the series while we wait for season 5 🤷‍♀️
Hopefully Macaque isn’t suicidal next season 🫡
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midnight-black2 · 3 days
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Hiiii! I'd like to request Prompt 11 for Jann 🫣. Idk something probably after winning Le Mans; being all famous and stuff. Meeting reader on a neutral place like a snack bar or smthn. LMAO. Jann absolutely falling head over heels because reader is cute and nice and doesn't know him 😭😭😭😭
𝐐𝐔𝐈𝐄𝐓 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄
pairing : jann mardenborough x reader
synopsis : genuinely just what the req says
disclaimers : honestly none, just some nice fluff which is not common for this blog lol
note : sorry this oneshot got delayed so much ! also i did not see that you put *snack* bar, and wrote it for an actual real alcohol bar instead, im so sorry lol. anyways, hope you like it regardless !
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there was only one place jann could go to get away from everything. away from all the noise, people, and fans. don't get me wrong, he loved everyone who looked up to and supported him. however, there was a point where it all became too much.
the bar. the little one not too far from where he lived. the little hole-in-the-wall, quiet bar. there weren't many people that went there, and most of them were typically too drunk to even notice jann. either that, or they simply just didn't know who he was, which was refreshing. he didn't even go to drink, it was just that most of the time he needed a way out.
so that's where he found himself, walking through the door of the beloved bar. the owner greeted him. jann had been there so many times, that all of the staff knew who he was. jann waved, before taking a seat on a stool near the counter.
"hey, jann," noah, the bartender spoke.
"hi noah," jann said back. "slow night?"
"yep. its a good thing for me, though," noah replied. the two shared a small laugh. there was a moment of pure silence apart from the soft music playing in the background, before jann spotted in his peripheral a woman--you-- sitting and enjoying a drink. you were pretty, and it was odd to jann that you were sitting alone.
you glanced over, and met eyes with him. he almost immediately looked away, not wanting to seem weird, and also not wanting to draw attention to himself. you smiled softly. he seemed around your age, and he was cute. small tamed curls, caramel skin, dark brown doe eyes.
"hi there," you greeted, eyes scanning his body. he was tall, too. really the full package. his eyes darted back over to you, widening slightly at the fact that you had actually spoken to him.
"oh h-hi," he stuttered, blinking a few times to make sure he wasn't seeing things. he wasn't, a beautiful woman was sitting right next to him and did just say hi.
"here all alone?" you questioned, tilting your head to the side slightly. he cleared his throat, in a fruitless attempt gather himself, and some confidence.
"uh, yeah. how about you?"
"yeah, same. i come here for the quiet, and a good drink," you said with a soft smile. "would you like some company?" he grinned slightly, and nodded.
"yeah that would be...that would be really nice actually," he replied, looking down at his hands. you moved to the seat beside him, before taking a sip of your drink.
"so, what's your name?" you asked. he was a bit surprised, not entirely, though. you didn't seem drunk, so he hadn't expected you to disregard him. however, it seems most people at this bar were immune to the news or something because he could finally be a normal civilian here, without anyone knowing who he was.
"jann. yours?"
"Y/N," you responded, reaching out a hand for him to shake, and he happily did so.
"so, what brings you here, since you seemingly don't want to drink," you ask, taking another sip of your drink.
"oh uhm, i come here because it isn't so busy, or loud. i come to get away for a bit, you know?" he explains. you nod.
"i do know. i love this place. it's like the only spot where i can breathe," you said back, smiling. jann noticed you had nearly finished your glass.
"would you let me buy you another?" he queried, nervously.
"another drink? no no no, i couldn't possibly. this was expensive, i'd feel so bad."
"it's not a problem, really." and before you could protest again, he had already ordered another from the bartender.
"you're sweet, jann," you started, and he softly smiled at the compliment. "i like you."
"t-thanks. i...i like you too," he said back, fingers fidgeting a bit.
"so, what do you do?" you asked. he grew even more anxious that you'd find out who he was, and it would ruin this all.
"well uhm, i'm a race car driver..."
"what? like, actually? like you're not screwing with me?" you asked, unbelieving. he chuckled, and shook his head no.
"nope, not screwing with you, i really am, promise. sounds weird, right?"
"no, not at all. i totally meet race car drivers all the time at random bars. it's my typical friday evening." he laughed.
"well, what do you do?" he asked. you explained your job, with this sort of passion. he could tell you did what you loved, which made him fall even more for you. you had this glint in your eyes, and this huge smile on your face. he had never seen someone so beautiful.
"w-wow," he said, after you had finished speaking. you tittered.
"yeah, it's not quite race car driving, but it's what i love."
"no that's amazing. it really is," he replied.
"you're too flattering."
"well i...i think you deserve it," he said, and your smile widened. you gazed at jann, admiring him. he was so kind, and he had even gone out of his way to spend money on you. he was adorable, at the very least.
"thank you," you finally said, keeping your eyes on him. he swallowed.
"you're welcome." time had passed as you two were simply chatting about anything and everything. it was nearly eleven pm before you had decided to call it quits. jann was partially disappointed, but he didn't want to hold you captive or anything. he noticed you pull a pen from your purse, and write something on a napkin.
"call me sometime," you had said, before exiting the bar. on the napkin was written your number, with a heart next to it. he felt his heart flutter with excitement.
turns out the quiet little bar down the street had another pro, too; a kind, pretty lady named Y/N that spends some time there.
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𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 © 𝐤𝐲𝐚-𝐢𝐬-𝐤𝐨𝐨𝐥
𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐲? 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐲 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞
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veliseraptor · 2 days
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Top 5 fictional properties you really like despite them not having any of the tropes/character setups you usually go for.
oooh this is a tough one. because usually for me to like something it has to have some kind of thematic resonance that works for me, though I guess maybe that's the distinction for me between things I get into fandom for and things where there's some kind of...yeah, underlying theme that gets me. but let's see what I can come up with here.
I ended up going with things where I feel like my draw to them is more thematic than about specific characters or character tropes, because that does feel like a distinct category of fiction for me.
Malazan: Book of the Fallen by Steven Erikson. it's interesting, because I used to think of myself as much more of an epic fantasy doorstopper person than I think I actually am, Wheel of Time excepted - and this series excepted, which...I have weird and complicated feelings about it that aren't quite as pure as "I enjoyed this," I guess, but it compelled me, and this far out from reading it the first time I can solidly say that I would read it again, even though that's a heck of a commitment. (maybe I should make that a summer project. although I already have so much else to read, orz.) and okay, there is Anomander Rake, but on the whole I wasn't reading this series because of the characters and that's not what stuck with me most from it.
Black Sails. The characters in this show are certainly compelling but none of them is really a Me Type in an obvious way, exactly, (some characters get close, or look like they might be on the face of it, but that's not what I loved about this series). I think what gets me about Black Sails is the theme of narrative and storytelling and crafting narrative, but that's not all it is - it's also just a good story itself and the characters are compelling, complex figures (even though, again, they're not a perfect match for my Type).
The Culture series by Iain M. Banks. Another book series I read for the themes over the characters - I have consistently been less interested in the main characters of these books than I am in what they're saying about society and people at large. I think the books themselves are also less interested in the main characters as characters than they are about what's being said about society and people at large, too, so that works nicely.
Perdido Street Station by China Mieville. I could not tell you why this book rewrote my brain, and I really need to read it, but it hooked into me at a fairly young and formative age and is thoroughly distinct from anything else I've read and loved as much as it. Also launched me into the world of weird fiction and Jeff Vandermeer in particular, who I was [tosses hair] into before it was cool.
Children of Time series by Adrian Tchaikovsky. Another one where there's not really a clear match for how it relates to my Very Particular Interests in the way some things I read do, but quickly became one of my favorite series/books (especially the first one). But they're so good, man. So good.
I guess maybe a pattern I'm seeing here is that I tend to be more wide-ranging in what I read than I am in what I watch - for the most part, I do watch TV shows for the characters more than anything else, while I'm a lot more willing to be less character-oriented when I read.
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sysig · 4 months
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Permission to headbutt: Granted (Patreon)
#My art#UT#Sans#Papyrus#Ft. something smol and I do on a regular basis ♪#This could be Handplates or it could be classic Undertale I leave that up to you lol#I definitely picked up a lot of the style quirks lol - but there are some of the ones that I like myself! Like Papyrus' darkmode clothes lol#And Sans' shorts having the stripe in the front haha - little details ♫#Realistically it probably is Handplates tho just based on where my head's at lol - I love the Handplates dynamic :D#Handplates#I talked myself into it! Pfft ♪#I found myself relating a lot to Sans especially while rereading - I want nothing more in the world than for my siblings to be happy! <3#So I gathered up a bunch of ideas of things especially me and smol do together and this was the most obviously cute one haha#Easiest to do! Tho I did still go a little extra on this lol#I'm trying to do more digital stuff ♪ It wasn't the best art day and I'm still a little nervous to jump right in :')#Not doing any sketches on paper beforehand feels weird but I guess it is thematic in a way lol#And I'm still pleased with how they turned out hehe#It really does feel nice to be drawing them again <3#And doing silly sibling things! Hehe#I dunno how clear it is since it's so ingrained into how smol and I talk to each other lol family language!#One of us will literally just announce ''bonk'' and the other will prepare for/lean in for a headbutt haha#She is a tiny bit taller than me - it's not quite /this/ extreme but she does lean down for me! S'cute <3#I like to think Papyrus would do the same hehe ♪ Let your lazy brother headbutt you! He can only reach so far!#On minimal effort anyhow hehe#It's just a fun way to be silly together ♫♪#Also yes I did show this to her and she cosigned lol - ''Cute'' -smol
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