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bloodstainsontengensfloor · 3 years

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... is this just one big appreciation post for the women of Jujutsu Kaisen? Yes. It is. I go looking for some JJK content and I need more love for my powerful ladies! ⚠️SPOILERS FOR VOLUME 0 AND FOR MANGA!!! ⚠️

Kugisaki Nobara:

The girl of steel.

Her most iconic moment is the “I AM NOBARA KUGISAKI!” She is someone who has a strong sense of self and I’m honestly jealous. She knows who she is, and she’s confident in that. Nobara is funny and full of life and character. She’s comedic and in her introduction, despite being unsure on what to do with the child hostage, handled the situation in a way I didn’t expect based on what was presented by her so far.

She was introduced as confident, blunt, judgemental, and conceited. When the child was taken hostage, she, unaware that Itadori would come in throwing punches, set her stuff down. She was the one who took down the curse, it was her test after all, and I honestly love the little head pat she gives the kid after. It’s such a small gesture but it’s so sweet.

No Character is a good one without flaws and Nobara has her fair share of them. Like stated before, she’s conceited and her bluntness is sometimes just rude. She saw herself as above most people in her old town because she couldn’t understand how they could be so small minded and live simple lives when she in fact is a little small minded and naive. The first curse she faced wasn’t one she was totally ready for, but in the end conquered. She views Maki and Mai as a bad twin/good twin situation. She never met Sukuna so can only judge Itadori based on who she knows, Itadori. She understands the gender norms of the Jujutsu world and believes that she can change them as long as she just is her. She knows she’s pretty and she knows she strong so what could go wrong? (Loosing an eye).

Something I do love about her though is that she had friends and people she cared for before she came to Tokoyo. Before she uhm... gets injured, she thinks about an old friend and how she doesn’t think she will get to met up with her like she promised. Nobara is a great friend with a lot of love to give. She’s truthful but not perfect.

Random fact I love: her hair is dyed.

Zenin Maki:

The woman who will prove everyone wrong. She’s ambitious, powerful, and hardworking. She began at the very bottom of the world she lived in, and is still restricted by these boundaries even after she proved herself over and over again. But never once did she let that bring her down.

She can’t see curses without her glasses, (as someone who wears glasses most of the time, it’s hard to always keep them on your face), and has very limited cursed energy that she must rely on cursed infused objects for battle. But that isn’t the bad kind of relying on because of the fact it makes her extremely skilled and resourceful. She uses a bunch of different weapons and is ‘incredibly strong’.

She is blunt and straightforward, but can also be someone who teaches others. Personally, I’d hate to have her as a teacher because she would push me to every limit I want to avoid but should reach. Maki is the leader of the Tokoyo kids, I can’t take no argument. She will put the protagonist in his place. You don’t get to come back from the dead and act like you are in charge smh.

She admires strength. Her ‘type’ is someone who is strong, but it can be debated what kind of ‘strength’ she means. The Jujutsu world’s restricted view on strength is something that limited her for years and was still limiting her up to the current manga arc. Does she admire someone who’s strength is in their physical, mental, or emotional manifestation? She’s a great character and it gets more expanded in Volume 0. I need to re read that, and omg Maki like lost a crap ton of limbs and now she is like... roasted??

Praying she lives and that her father dies so she can work on becoming the head of the clan, like she wants. Fushigiro has the power but he cut ties with the fam and Mai has no desire. So... Maki as head of the Zenin Clan 2021... well I guess 2018?

Random fact I love: maki’s name has the kanji for “genuine” and “hope”.

Zenin Mai:

I have exhausted this topic. But I’m in love. (I wrote this whole thing and my thing glitched and deleted all my work rip)

Mai is confident and crude. She’s introduced as rude, inconsiderate and just all around your basic mean girl. She’s pretty, she’s confident and she doesn’t care if what she says hurt you.

However, one thing that seperates her from every other character in the story, is that she has no desire nor ambition to be a Jujutsu Sorcerer. As a child, she was scared of curses and it’s implied that she may still be scared of them as a teen. She was content living as a servant in her home because at least she would have a normal life. But, had she stayed in that life she would be living in a toxic household where she got no love and was viewed as lesser than. Despite not wanting to be a jujutus sorcerer, her sister’s ambitions of being one forced her to do the same and try to stay on par with her. At Kyoto, Mai develops... great friendships. She’s given kindness and love. This much can be seen in the conversation with her and Nishimya and the softness in her face when she simply says “I know” over the phone.

Personally, I don’t believe the Kyoto students are aware of Mai’s desires, due to the fact that Nishimya talked about the barriers placed against Mai/Maki as something distasteful for Mai.

Mai is someoen who puts on an act. She plays the part of your basic mean girl because what else is she supposed to do? She’s unhappy, and the only thing she knows how to do is lash out. She only knows and maybe even wants people to feel as bad as she did and does. She’s dependent and has abandonment issues due to her sister’s act of letting go of her hand.

However, what Nobara says is right. Misfortune doesn’t allow one to do what they want or to justify when they do bad things. Mai, like a lot of the Kyoto students, don’t know how to cope and deal with the bundles of emotions and conflict within them. They only know to lash out. In the story, Mai is still a minor character, but she has potential for growth, and I really hope it’s given to her.

Fun fact I love: Her first name contains the Kanji for “Geunine” and “rely on”. I love this because Mai might not even know who her genuine self is and in the recent manga chapters she’s relied on as back up from a distance.

Kasumi Miwa:

She’s the anchor of the Kyoto gang. Unlike the others, she doesn’t have major emotional baggage. She led a simple life and has a simple goal. Miwa wants to be a Jujutus Sorcerer to get enough money to help provide for her poor family.

Her story has a rag-to-riches type beat. She met a Jujutsu mentor who she trained under and learned how to wield a Katana so she wouldn’t have to burden her mother. She’s selfless, kind, and down to earth. Miwa has a fangirl heart and admires big name people like Gojo. She had major self confidence issues, despite all this. She had to work for this and has a goal in mind, but that doesn’t mean she’ll always feel useful.

Her relationship with Mechamaru is bitter sweet. She wants to know him better. Despite it being a prank, she does try to give him little gifts and make him feel included in everything they do. He protects her when his actions as the mole potentially put her endanger. It hurt watching the part of Miwa talking to his empty robot self while he did what he needed to.

And his last messages to her through the little ear pieces 😭😭.Even after knowing what he does, she’s still there to listen and is still there for them to rely on.

Miwa is just a breathe of fresh air in this story, but that doesn’t exclude her from the angst and trauma that comes with a story as dark as this.

Fun fact I love: it’s not a fact, but she wears a full on suit. I love it. I love it so much.

Momo Nishimya:

She’s a little witch 🥺. Momo Nishimya is introduced as somewhat reserved. She expressed nervousness over the abilities of the Tokoyo kids. In her fight with Nobara, she acknowledges her as strong and severely underestimated her. However, like Nobara, she’s willing to defend her friends at any chance she has.

The minute Nobara expresses distaste toward Mai, Nishimya immediate begins to defend her and starts lecturing Nobara on how women are treated unfairly in the jujutsu world. She introduced this idea that a woman must be pretty and strong, and I really hope this idea comes into play more and more later (and I think it will). Despite having a female teacher who is strong yet scarred, she expresses the idea that a scar is setback for a woman.

Her and Mai get along very well. The two of them are somewhat the troublemakers that Miwa constantly has to wrangle in (The dynamic between those three I love). Her character is pretty minor but in the reccent chapters, I loved how she got her mini moment. Itadori and her were the only two who were able to avoid Uraume’s ice and talks to Itadori passively and tries to even work with him. It’s a big step from how she begins with telling Nobara that she is a fool for being unable to distinguish a curse from a friend.

Fun fact I love about her: she’s Japanese American with an American father. Same, but I wasn’t raised Japanese whatsoever 🥲.

I’m going to do a part two with our adult ladies but that’s all for now folks!

Fun facts from the JJK Wiki page!

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk spoilers #mai zenin #maki zenin #nobarakugisaki #jujutsu kaisen miwa #nishimiya momo #jjk anime #anime #jjk

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hubbytaeil · 3 years

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4, 23, 70 with doyoung

Doyoung + #4 I think I’m in love with you and I’m terrified, #23 Can I kiss you?, #70 I know I should’t but I miss you

genre: angst

word count: 2308

summary: Doyoung thinks him disappearing from your life is best shot you have at happiness, until he is faced with the harsh reality.

ʷᵉ'ʳᵉ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵗʷᵒ ˢˡᵒʷ ᵈᵃⁿᶜᵉʳˢ ˡᵃˢᵗ ᵒⁿᵉˢ ᵒᵘᵗ

There wasn’t any reason for Doyoung not to accept an invitation to dinner from you. In the few seconds it took him to read your message he seemed to forget how you didn’t talk for months after the announcement of your engagement. He had congratulated you, of course, even if the sight of the astounding rock adorning your hand had broken him down. Perhaps that was when Doyoung realised that, somewhere along the way, to him you had become more than a good friend.

The way your eyes gleamed while glancing at your future husband was the most beautiful yet heart-breaking scene Doyoung had ever witnessed. He truly was happy for you; he was glad to finally see you settling down. Yet, that night, there was bitterness in every sip of champagne, in every laughter exchanged, in every single look he would steal from you from across the table. He avoided the word ‘love’ at all costs when he would explain his situation to his friends, frightened that pronouncing it would make it real. It would’ve made the pain tangible; it would’ve pervaded every corner of his mind; it would’ve made him avoid every street where he could run into you. Doyoung cared for you, that never changed, but he also cared for his heart to remain intact. That night he had walked home alone, his phone in between his fingers, busy typing and deleting everything that would fill the empty message.

‘I think I’m in love with you and I’m terrified.’

Doyoung read the unsent message over and over, but the tipsiness didn’t get the best of him. He took pride in having chosen your happiness instead of his. He quickly deleted the draft. As he made his way down the street, he looked up at the starless sky. He was smiling but there were tears in eyes.

Doyoung could feel his every step get heavier and heavier. Why were you even meeting up in the first place? There were just unsolved questions clouding his mind. Moreover, he was troubling himself by what he was going to say. A part of him wanted to come clean, confess all of his burdens.

I know I shoudn’t but I miss you. That was going to be his opening line. Another part of him would never want you to be part of his despair. You were going to get married and have a beautiful life, it didn’t matter if Doyoung was not going to be in it. He stopped his grave walk when he reached the entrance of the restaurant. You could be seen through the massive glass windows, dressed in your favourite colour which made Doyoung smile to himself. You seemed nervous and it made him uneasy, but the thought of avoiding this encounter didn’t cross him mind long enough for him to turn it into reality. He was glad to finally spend some time with you and get his well-deserved closure.

So Doyoung walked in, like a soldier ready for war. When you raised your gaze to him the outcome of the battle was already decided. Doyoung would’ve lost.

The dinner went surprisingly well compared to Doyoung’s expectations, since you two had a lot to catch up on. He couldn’t help but notice how there were still some topics you hadn’t touched in the least. Not even once you had ever pronounced the words ‘marriage’, ‘fiancé’, ‘reception’ or anything of the sort. Doyoung was contempt enough in listening to your every word and every anecdote regarding work. He couldn't bring himself to bring up the questions he was dying to ask, especially not after seeing that you weren’t wearing your ring. Maybe you just preferred not to wear such an expensive ring all the time, he thought remembering how meticulous you were. Doyoung was sure that there was a logical explanation so he convinced himself not to think about it too much.

“And so, she stormed out of the classroom after I told her she was going to fail my class.”

“I didn’t take you for the teacher who made her students cry.” Doyoung joked after taking a sip of water.

“Well, crying won’t get her anywhere with me. I’ll give her three days before she comes back begging me to help her.” You asserted setting your fist on the table, trying to empathize your point.

“Is this how you treat your fiancé?” Doyoung laughed but this time you didn’t laugh with him. The comment had come out unexpectedly and he knew it was a mistake as soon as he looked at your eyes slowly losing their light. You stayed impassive for what felt like the longest seconds in Doyoung’s life. Silence, filled by the clicking of glasses and inaudible chatter that only amplified the gut feeling that something was wrong.

You gazed at your plate and then at Doyoung, beaming at him.

“That’s just how I treat everybody, you know me.”

Doyoung exhaled at your answer that only left him with more doubts. But he also was glad that those past months hadn’t thrown your friendship in the scrapheap. You know me. He repeated those words in his head over and over. Yes, I know you.

“Jungwoo told me he saw you the other day.” Doyoung quickly tried to change the subject, clearly, he hadn’t succeeded in doing so. You let out an embittered chuckle.

“Did he tell you why he saw me?”

Needless to say, Doyoung was starting to break a sweat as he felt like you were a riddle impossible to solve.

“No, actually he didn’t. Did something happen?” He stressed the last sentence as much as he could, as if to say you can tell me anything, you know it. He kept his eyes on you for as long as he could, afraid of your every movement. Afraid that you might even dissolve into thin air if he looked away for too long.

“I called him to help me move out.”

“But I thought you already lived with Jaehyun.” You smiled at yourself, not looking directly at the man sitting in front of you, setting your eyes on the hands of the bartender pouring bourbon inside an old man’s glass. Doyoung was a good a person, you always knew that, someone who always looked at the bright side of things. A person that, when tragedy stroked, was ready to sweep away the broken pieces.

“Oh.” Doyoung finally saw the bigger picture and felt a little ashamed, even if all he did was just not running directly to worst case scenario.

“Yeah, it was pretty rough. But don’t worry, we’re on good terms now. I got a nice new apartment all by myself, nice view and all.” You were smiling, yet the curve of your lips looked like scar. Doyoung’s heart was pounding restlessly in his chest at the thought of you going through that awful situation alone. He remembered that incredible woman he had saw months prior at her engagement party. He couldn’t see her anymore and it made him weak.

“Are you going to be okay?” Doyoung took your hand in his, noticing how cold it was. He observed how you studied that small gesture of sympathy. He wondered if someone had even asked you a question like that lately.

“I will try.” That response was enough for Doyoung, you were still the person he had grown to love. He was determined to keep what was left of your fire alive.

“I know you will.” Doyoung’s grip tightened softly. “I know you.”

Doyoung agreed on getting some fresh air after dinner.

You had gone past the uncomfortable conversation about how Jaehyun had realised only after popping out the question that he wasn’t ready for marriage.

“Well, he always looked kind of indecisive.”

“I guess we got the final proof.” It was wonderful for Doyoung to hear your laughter again, even when it came from a place of self-pity.

“I know someone has probably said this to you already, but he doesn’t know what he’s missing.” Doyoung affirmed, as sternly as he could. He saw you curiously eyeing at him, then you delicately put your arm in his.

“Actually, you’re the first one to say that. Thank you.” you stated, hiding a hint of melancholy in your voice. Doyoung kept you at his side, walking with you along the river promenade. How lucky he felt to be with you like this, he questioned how someone could simply let go such a wonderful person.

“Why did you never reach to me after... you know...” you suddenly asked leaving Doyoung dumbstruck.

“I just... thought you’d be too busy.”

“For seven months?” he was taken back by your precise memory, then he remembered who he was talking to.

“You didn’t reach out to me either.” Doyoung pointed out.

“I was going to... but then one day I saw you on the street.”

Doyoung got a lump in his throat.

“I called your name and you turned the other way.” your voiced trembled. Your steps stopped; you were now face to face. Doyoung couldn’t run away anymore.

“Y/n...”

“Was it something I said? Something I’ve done? Please Doyoung, I’ve been torturing myself for months, thinking about what I could’ve done wrong.” Cold tears made their way across your cheeks. As Doyoung witnessed this he couldn’t help feel ashamed. He had been haunting your mind, while all he had done was pushing you away. He put a hand on his mouth overwhelmed by everything that was being uncovered.

“You did nothing wrong, y/n.” his voice wasn’t stable, another word and he knew it would’ve been the end.

“Then why do you hate me?!” you sobbed, unable to contain yourself. You went on, uttering sentences, that would lose their direction in the middle, on how bad you had felt when Doyoung had stopped talking to you, how terribly alone and humiliated you had felt when Jaehyun had called off the engagement while you were visiting your family, how you wished you could’ve just called him during that awful period, until all one could hear were broken sobs. That’s when Doyoung broke.

“It was too painful knowing that you were someone else’s!” Doyoung shouted, fists tight as tears rolled down his face as well.

“I couldn’t bear the thought of you walking down the aisle to a man that wasn’t me, I thought it would’ve been better to step aside. But I never hated you, I could never. God, I could never hate you. And now I realise how my decision has hurt the both of us.”

Your sobs slowly ceased, Doyoung tried to make sense of your reaction. You stood there in front of him, wiping your cheeks, hesitant on what to say. Doyoung’s head lowered, feeling guilty for the pain he had caused you.

“Why didn’t you tell me right away?” you finally spoke but he still couldn’t look at you in the eyes.

“It was too late when I realised how I felt about you.” He sighed turning to the side, his dark eyes reflecting in the city lights.

“How late?” you almost chuckled at the last word but you refrained yourself.

“On the day you announced that you were getting married.” He noticed your body getting stiff at the confession.

“Doyoung...”

“You looked so beautiful, so happy. I wish had taken a picture, Jesus. After I saw that ring on your finger, I just wanted to disappear. But I only caused you pain and-”

You wrapped your arms around him before he could finish his sentence and tear up again. You held him closely, burying your face in the crook of his neck.

“You suffered too Doyoung. God, I feel so stupid.”

“Don’t say that.”

“I should’ve known.”

You stayed entangled, in between sobs and a few reassuring words. It felt like putting together the broken pieced again. Doyoung eventually leaned back and look at you as you attempted to fixed your now ruined make up. He chuckled softly telling you that there was no need and that you looked gorgeous either way. His tender smile was replaced by a shocked expression when you pressed your palm on his cheek. When he perceived you leaning forward his mind went blank. Before you could get any closer you stopped.

“Can I kiss you?” you whispered gently and he thought it was all a dream. If he had rubbed his eyes he would’ve woken up, you would’ve been no longer close enough for him to hear your heartbeat. Therefore, he could only bring his hand on your waist and wrap you even closer to him and hope that he would never wake up. You smiled tenderly after getting his permission. Slowly you united your lips in a sweet peck. It wasn’t a dream. His grip on you was firm as your lips passionately let go of all their fears, of all the unspoken secrets. Doyoung took his time with you, rejoicing in every kiss, making them last for as long as he could. It was home. It was the right place to be. You delivered one sweet kiss before leaning back to admire Doyoung’s peaceful expression.

“What happens now?” Doyoung asked, caressing your lower back. What happens now? You hand travelled to his chest so that he could squeeze you in even tighter.

“I don’t know.” You aligned his face to his, your noses touching. “But that’s not necessarily a bad thing. We can decide. So how about we start over?”

Doyoung beamed at you looking like the happiest man who had ever walked the Earth. He freed himself from your embrace, leaving rather disoriented.

“Nice to meet you, I’m Doyoung.” he exclaimed, putting his hand forward. You wasted no time before shaking it.

“Nice to meet you too, I’m y/n.”

#doyoung au #doyoung scenarios #doyoung imagines #doyoung drabbles #nct au #nct scenarios #nct imagines #nct drabble #doyoung angst #doyoung fluff #nct 127 imagines #nct 127 scenarios #nct dream imagines #kim doyoung

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ayellowcurtain · 4 years

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Sobbe fight. Robbe regrets it and texts Sander who agrees to forget about it. He then tells Robbe he’s going on a two-week long school trip and distance may do both of them some good. During the trip, Robbe follows him on ista and texts him, Sander replies laconically without the usual doting tone. Robbe feels insecure bc things are still evidently tense between the two. When Sander returns, he still doesn’t reach out. Robbe decides to talk face to face. Sander confesses he’s been having doubts about showing affection so openly, that Robbe thinks his grand gestures are a bit too much. Robbe tells him to stop being silly, he loves him the way he is and appreciates what he does for him. They have a hand on heart talk, they communicate honestly and make up completely.

Robbe could recognize his own symptoms: back to overthinking everything, feeling the urgent need to always do the right thing for everyone. He wishes it was easy to change his mindset and start acting normally again, but everything was pilling up and he exploded with the one person he knows he shouldn’t. It wasn’t even a big fight, Robbe thinks he knows a thing or two about how those ones really are, based on the years he had hearing his parents fight and then fighting with his dad for leaving.

But he could tell Sander didn’t like the way Robbe lashed out on him after another day of Robbe working very hard editing a video for Jens until late at night, watching his friends having fun without even inviting him, just sending him the videos for him to edit for their stupid channel.

Sander made a joke about how Robbe was still Jen’s horny lapdog and he lost it, saying he was just trying to help his stupid friend get his dumb video uploaded and for Sander to stop acting like Robbe was the one horny for someone else back in the day.

And the look Sander gave him after, and the hours-long silence were more than enough signs for Robbe to understand he had overreacted, and even that’s an understatement. Sander barely talked to him, they slept apart from each other on Robbe’s bed and when he woke up, Sander was gone. No note, no text, he left without saying goodbye.

He was a little upset to be left behind like that, but he didn’t argue, looking at his phone for a minute before sending a few texts to his boyfriend.

to Sander: hey

I’m sorry about last night. I was so stupid and didn’t mean what I said.

I was just angry and lashed out on you

I’m so so sorry,

Let me know when you’re free and if I can go to your place tonight…

I love you, Sander

Robbe waited, bitting his nails, but Sander didn’t respond right away. He checked his phone again when he got up, a few times during breakfast and one time before shower and another one before leaving the house to go to school.

Sander hadn’t responded, he hadn’t even read the messages, any of them. He’s not one to make Robbe wait for a reply, but Robbe tries not to think about it while in school, trying to focus on his classes. He walks to his bike with Jens, but he doesn’t feel like talking. He’s done with the video and today he just wants to fix things with Sander, not bothering to worry about Jens and his worried looks.

He reads the messages he sent again when he gets home, walking around in circles inside his bedroom not to worry his mom. It was dumb to invite himself to go to Sander’s place and Robbe feels self conscious, thinking about deleting that message since Sander hasn’t read any of them yet.

Robbe sits on his bed when he starts getting dizzy after walking for so long in such a small space. He doesn’t want to talk to his mom, to answer her million questions if he tells her what happened.

He does all his homework for the week, check his notes from every class, and checks his phone every five minutes. At least he’s ahead with everything for the next few days, able to spend time with Sander whenever he feels like it and also has the time. It’s almost the end of the semester and he knows Sander needs some free time these days, not thinking about drawing for once.

Robbe eats his food slowly, trying very hard to act normally around his mom, asking how her day went, how was therapy. Robbe tells her his homework is basically done for the week and that his head is hurting a little so he’ll go to bed early.

She grabs their empty plates and kisses Robbe’s head on her way to the sink, saying he can go rest.

“You deserve it, honey.” She says, playing with his hair and leaving an extra kiss before moving on to clean the rest of the table. Robbe would usually help her anyway, but he accepts not helping her for once and drags himself back to his bedroom just in time.

He smiles to his phone, accepting the video call while he locks his bedroom door.

“Hey, you…” he tries not to sound worried about hearing from Sander almost 12 hours since this morning.

“Hi…” Sander doesn’t look or sound too excited to talk to him. Robbe explains to himself in his head it’s because he’s probably tired, overwhelmed with the end of the semester.

“How was your day?” Robbe sits on his chair, paying attention to his boyfriend. His hair is getting a little long again, like an aura around his head.

“Long, exhausting.” Sander sighs, dropping his bag on his bedroom floor, taking his jacket off, changing his phone from one hand to the other. Robbe bites his lip not to invite himself to go to Sander’s place again.

“Did you get my texts...? I think my phone is dying, might have to buy a new one soon.” Robbe smiles, even though his phone is working just fine.

“Hm, yeah, yeah, I did.” Sander throws himself on his bed, sitting, finally giving Robbe his full attention back, putting his head against his hand, messing his hair a little bit to push it away from his eyes.

“What’s wrong...?”

“Nothing. It’s just that I have to go away for a few days. My teacher needed an assistant for this trip for his exhibition.” Sander sounds annoyed, tired, but also like he decided to go, and it’s letting Robbe know about it before leaving.

“When...are you guys going?”

“Tomorrow, first thing in the morning,” Sander says, avoiding to meet Robbe’s eyes, busying taking his boots off.

“So you’re leaving...without even saying goodbye.” Robbe swallows his opinions about it, hating how low and upset he sounds and he knows Sander noticed because he looks up, holding his phone right again.

“Robbe. It’s just for two weeks. We’ve been apart for longer.”

“You couldn’t stop complaining about it during the quarantine.” Sander doesn’t answer, he sighs, annoyed, looking elsewhere and Robbe wants to ask him to look at him and tell the truth, but also apologize if Sander didn’t get that he’s sorry already.

“I think it’ll be good for us...two weeks apart.”

Robbe frowns, caught by surprise with Sander’s desire. He never thought Sander needed some time apart, two full weeks apart by his own choice, “You really think that?”

“Like I said, it’s just for a few days.” Sander shrugs, talking a little more softly like he normally would, making Robbe thinks this is just it, nothing deeper like Sander trying to find an excuse to slowly create a distance between them.

“You need time, okay. Sorry.” Robbe shakes his head, closing his eyes for a second, “You need time and I’ll wait.”

“You’re being dramatic.” Sander breathes out a laughter that doesn’t meet his worried eyes.

“I’m not. What else can I say? Don’t go because I don’t want to? It seems like a good opportunity and if you say you need time, you need time. That’s it.”

Robbe looks at his empty glass on his nightstand, gently touching it, following the circle at the top, trying to keep himself together. He was an asshole, but he didn’t think it was enough for this reaction.

“I’ll be back in two weeks, okay?” Robbe can’t talk anymore or he’ll cry like a needy baby so he just nods his head and Sander smiles sadly at him, ending the call.

He lets his phone slip to the ground, the thud not even worrying him. He lies back, pressing his palms against his eyes. And just like that, he won’t see Sander for two whole weeks.

#wtfock #robbe ijzermans #sander driesen #robbe x sander #sobbe

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funkwhistle · 3 years

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Rules for Requesting Fics

Please read before submitting a request - you’re more than welcome to ask if I received your request! I’ll let you know if I won’t complete it; if it’s on anon it’ll stay on my page for a day or so before I’ll delete it.

If you want to request anything erotic please go on anon - nothing personal I just find it a little strange to know who requested it :)

If you still are unsure, just ask me!

And at the moment I'm just writing random things - requests are still open, but I'm highly unlikely to be completing any soon. I might use them as an idea, or I'll post them on my blog for someone else to write, it's nothing personal, I'm just depressingly busy at the moment.

________

Genres I will write: Romance (fluff and smut), Action, Drabbles, Headcanons, Fantasy, Imagines

Genres I won’t write: Extreme gore, Horror/Thrillers, anything political, dub!con, Major character death, anything about children

(pregnancy is generally a no as well, but sometimes the baby fever kicks in okay)

________

NSFW I will write: Anything which isn’t listed below, which might get updated if I get a request I won’t write for

NSFW I won’t write: non-con, scat, vomit, piss, daddy kink, incest, age-play, death, underage characters, gun play, BDSM -ownership/collaring

________

Reader Inserts:

I love writing these! You can request specifics like the readers race, sexuality, size, height etc. The only time I’ll turn down a reader fic is if you’ve been too specific with your request and not allowing the character open for interpretation (e.g. reader had blonde hair, is 5′2, asexual, loves animals, hates snakes, works in a saloon.)

And let me know your pronouns/what gender you want the reader to be, otherwise I’ll make it Gender Neutral.

________

Fandoms and their characters I’ll write for:

RED DEAD REDEMPTION:

Pairings I will write: Arthur/Micah, Dutch/Micah, Arthur/Dutch, Hosea/Dutch, Abigail/John (last one is debatable)

Pairings I won’t write: Anything else aside from x reader, but just ask me

People I won’t write at all: Child Jack, Mary Linton, Harriet (RDO), Gus (RDO)

People I will write: Everyone else!

STAR WARS:

Pairings I will write: Obi Wan/Anakin, Rey/Kylo

Pairings I won’t write: Anything else aside from x reader, but again just ask me

People I won’t write at all: Droids, anything from Mandalorian or other Disney SW shows

People I will write: Pretty much anyone else

HARRY POTTER:

Pairings I will write: Probably none - but if you've got a request you're dying to read I'll consider :)

Pairings I won’t write: Teacher x underage student

People I won’t write at all: Dumbledore, Voldemort, Crabbe, Goyle

People I will write: Everyone else! (Sirius ;) )

WITCHER - Books, Games, and Netflix

Pairings I will write: Geralt/Yennefer, Geralt/Tris

Pairings I won’t write: Geralt/Adult Ciri, Adult Ciri/Any of the other witchers - (obviously no underage characters)

People I won’t write at all: Vesemir (romantic, will do plutonic)

People I will write: Pretty much anyone x reader

BRIDGERTON:

Pairings I will write: Kanthony (Kate/Anthony)

Pairings I won’t write: Eh, nothing definite, I'll have a think

People I won’t write at all: Again, can't think of anyone in particular atm

People I will definitely write: Anthony

________

Anything else:

If I haven’t specified about a ship earlier in the post, just send me a message to let me know. Requests can take a while if the brain is slow, and I’ll let you know if I’m not going to be completing it.

Sometimes I write for things not on this list. As a rule, if I've written the pairing before you can be pretty sure I'll be good to write it again. Most of the time I get too lazy to reupdate this for just one character in a series.

If you like my work, reblogging it or just leaving likes/kudos is wonderful and motivates me to produce more, so leave as many as you like!

AO3 is also under @/funkwhistle but I upload less there, might put my multi chaptered fics on there.

And if the fics are short, sorry! Sometimes I struggle with the prompt and cannot write enough to make it long, but most will; be around 1k words.

________

#funkwhistle #the witcher #geralt x reader #dutch van der linde #arthur morgan #hosea matthews #geralt of rivia #kylo ren #obi wan kenobi #harry potter #hermione granger #weasley #micah bell #flaco hernandez #charles smith #anthony bridgerton

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paraclete0407 · 3 years

Text

Stuff I might never get to do (from books I read after I thought I had mastered the Bible / Scripture)

Theories of ‘political vision’ - ex. Obama’s ‘A Promised Land,’ or from someone I miss, UKPM David Cameron’s ‘For the Record.’ Also records of military careers and the consequences and lessons therefrom, particularly Gen., Prof. Stanley A. McChrystal’s ‘My Share of the Task’ - decades of one meal a day, utterly excellent love-letters and wisdom-writings to his wife, sweeping reports, culminating in the operation that ‘extrajudicially or para-judicially executed’ bin Laden. I also never forgot the NYTimes photo of the SEAL operator’s back-muscles. My giant Obama critique, however, was one of those ‘grandfather Hall of Presidents’ books that I want to postpone.

My mistakes and wishes. Ex. the woman I wanted to marry in early 2011; I had cut off my parents for 6 months and called one night my mom; she got really drunk that night, flirted with foreigners from [ultra-mercenary cram-school that hires anyone], got terrorized by [b/Black man of the type who clearly believes ‘As I am b/Black I know everything worth knowing and can terrorize, antagonize, demonize anyone and anything for the greater glory of my own ego / Chairman Mao]. Culminating in me in the ladies’ room telling her to get up and I told her so, going back to the pub-room and threatening the mercenaries, and finally being ‘mogged,’ masculinity-compromised or eclipsed / overpowered, by the man who was either her surrogate father-figure, rapist, seducee-turned-wrist-breaking-controller, no one really knew, and my ex-father-figure who however either a) failed to bait the trap properly and/or b) failed to communicate the true meaning and message and purpose of his love for me, to me. But, it was instrumental in blowing what was probably the best job I ever had, and the only job that ever asked me back.

After that I started honestly trying to live for either a) the younger generation b) ‘just me.’ I also made a number of hard or soft promises to students involving me writing stuff. Don’t say ‘will’ or ‘might’ to Koreans b/c it kind of spiritually translates in to ‘shall’ or ‘must’ or ‘has to.’ They’re the poor in spirit from what I can tell.

I also drove around California for a while, missed a job-offer from a Catholic university in [central Korean city], and thought a lot about F. Scott Fitzgerald. Studied Emmanuel ‘ethics-as-first-philosophy love-of-wisdom-converting-into-wisdom-of-love’ Levinas a bit, read ‘Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother’ and couldn’t sleep

Sundry ‘Teacher Dream(s).’ I’d been hoping in a way that ‘Free Food for Millionaires’ author Min Jin Lee, JD Yale etc, would put this all in her ‘American Hagwon’ but she’s been baking fancy cakes and writing offside / deflective lit. about Japanese gays for like 10 years while NK marched on in real life killing people and Koreans were also dying from numerous causes, running away from home, economically induced suicide, amazing shame- and rape-culture: cashing in. I remember my last night at the hagwon, a time of bonhomie, when I perhaps might’ve even said, ’Y’know, can I un-resign-in-protest?’ Boss, What’ll you miss most about Korea, Korean women?’ Me (playing the fool), ‘There are Korean women in America.’ Boss, (sforzando), ‘Gyopo women.’

My ‘best guess’ anyway at ‘edubusiness’ was sth I labored at off and on for now like 6 years called ‘Three Kings’ which is partly about a white ex-literary agent family named ‘Foch’ after the French Generalissime who actually won WW1, famous for his ‘moral factor’ theory of war as well as his remark, ‘This is not a peace but an armistice for 20 years. He makes 400,000 dollars in his 1st year of college by advising his roommate to publish his ‘freshman’ novel with an extreme ‘point,’ not worrying about winning every possible reader, just let me edit all the sign-post-phrases and tell you what I firmly believe you were trying to write, sell this novel for 2million dollars, marry the Korean girl across the hall, forget RU, cultivate life and love with your stylus, and I’ll continue to march on simultaneously trying to promote love while reading everyone and everything semi-against or [angle / thrust-vector to] their grain (for their own good). Later he starts a school with his two friends, an MD/PhD program dropout from LA and an MBA ex-Samsung Managing Director or something. But in the end his MD/PhD friend can’t stop thinking about [student’s] amazing breasts and [MBA] friend can’t stop hating and short-selling himself w/r/t marriage and self-regard b/c he’s stuck in the other-always-has-more-money-always-more-money-to-make mentality. In the end the protagonist resigns in protest from the company he himself designed, developed, planned, etc. but didn’t have the money to call his own after reaching the position of ‘Joint Department Head’ which is kind of like ‘Chief of Staff’ to a president at a much smaller scale. He’s a devout literal Christian or at least Christianist who wishes the world were Christian and he reflects in the end on the Longfellow poem about the Three Kings who ‘know King Herod’s hate’ and had to travel back to their homelands a different way. There is also a possibly-to-be-deleted ‘Interludio Meridiana’ where he happens across the molested constantly male-gazed student in Nonhyeon (a neighborhood South of the Han River but not at all like the PSY song), starts to hear Palestrina’s ‘Sicut Cervus’ (listen to it on YouTube - Palestrina’s polyphony philosophy is one of the crowns of human art) in his head, wanders down to the bus depot and finds that his thoughts / creativity etc. have become cathected, chained to, or at least led by memory, and he has joined a ‘chain of being’ that connects the past to the future.

‘Bethlehem Dream’ - kind of my homage to the forementioned Kim Minju of IZ*ONE, my last favorite pop-star before assuring Christian friend I’d stop following K-pop (I’m against BlackPink and their entire organization). Connects to all my dreams and theories of education - including my extreme disillusionment with education, and sympathy for anyone made the ‘beneficiary’ of the latest theory or tool - as well my homage to the school that most closely approximates my dream school, Prof,. Pastor, Dr. Chancellor John Piper’s Bethlehem College and Seminary in Minneapolis. And also, women’s desire to have children / babies, even without husbands, men’s desire to bear spiritual fruit with or without traditional fellowship.

Masculinity in novels. Not Norman Mailer Philip Roth stuff but novels that can lens reality from the top down and not get addicted to some or other cupidity or method of endearing / charming the audience, which often makes them stupider or causes them to regard hidden truth as an outright lie and/or triviality. MJL’s ‘Free Food for Millionaires’ was pretty masculine; better is billionaire Michael Kim’s ‘Offerings,’ a novel I wish I could teach someone only I can’t find a good student / reader and maybe I myself missed the point and only thought I got it.

Thinking quitting while ahead - I really don’t know whether adding to people’s minds and knowledge at this point in Time is good or whether writing amounts to feasting the already glutted, furnishing them further excuses for disbelief and inaction and alienating / dividing them from the hungry and poor. I like a song called ‘Love Song for No. 1.’ Remember talking about a walk in the woods I took, understanding something about the Other’s first language the authenticity of this language and its nativity to their understanding and ‘originary’ or ‘birth-mother’ identity or ‘self-system.’ Not something to tell your Anglo-but-ish-they-were-Teutonic biological parents because they will make like they want to backhand your head off then spend years denying they’re either racist, non-believers, or what I have come to call anti-believers; people who amid ‘Delta Covid Summer’ are trying to destroy the beliefs of others. Also Dr. R.C Sproul Ligonier Ministries, ‘Forgetfulness is apostasy.’

‘Flowers on Water.’ Kind of my homage to Krystal Jung Soojung of ‘hieroglyphic’ girl-group f(x) and later IMO excellent actress, her best moment perhaps the final episode of ‘My Lovely Girl,’ a shocking and awesome scene that appears to talk about Resurrection and Eternity. The protagonist is another cynical edubusinessman who is thinking about mass-death, getting mad at mainstream American Christianity for singing songs while people were drowning, and finally on Google Books comes across a teacher-poem from 1881 titled ‘Flowers,’ for a group of rather hapless seemingly American Indian students in California as well as critiques of educational praxis which, in 1881, were identical to what they are today. ‘God is sovereign in all things’ - such a difficult category. I abandoned this novel for a number of reasons such as the belief that I might be able to reverse-engineer Brad Thor or something for a quick buck. Went to Half Price Books (now closed) where they had a picture of the Jackson Five over the toilet in the men’s room. I read a bit of a one-dollar Brad Thor book about Russia but on the way on home I once started once again dreaming mytically about Korean girls / women as it began to snow and thinking about ‘Lo How a Rose E’er Blooming’ (’Es Ist Ein Rosentsprungen) the German Nativity song which Michael Praetorius composed at least in part in response to the appalling Reformation Wars and out of a hope or wish that remembrance of Christ’s birth could somehow reunite the Church. This also made me think about a high school I admire / respect and my old friend and his now-divorced wife with whom I many times fantasized about singing and talking with again; and whom I kind of wish I could tell the author of ‘All Quiet on the Western Front’ remarried his first wife eventually but IDK what good it is to give already-dreaming people more dreams either.

It’s 9:35 AM and my ‘insomnia’ type notebook-postings haven’t made me any new friends in a while. My last thing is just, if you care about Education or young girls / American women / culture / schools, achievement, heroines, stories, or for that matter Bible-translation or the latter-day odysseys of the nominal Episcopalian Church, with trembling heart, try to reflect on Headmaster Josiah Bunting III’s ‘All Loves Excelling.’

One of my favorite Christian songs is ‘The Death of King David’

And God said that day shall dawn

to bring that flow’r newly born

from thy stem in fullness growing

in fragrance sweet night and morn

all My people shall adorn

with Breath of life bestowing

Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah

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bi-dazai · 3 years

Text

honestly i think i have a weird anger or cultural confusion where other gay and trans ppl are like much happier and comfortable to come out and shit and be open, but I've always had an extremely complicated relationship with it because it's always made me feel so isolated and lonely, even with other gay ppl around. and younger ppl especially will like go around coming out so frequently and meanwhile if I'm going to even tell you that I'm attracted to women I have to trust you 110% and that isn't something that comes easy.

I'm terrified of like. Wearing even rainbow goddamn socks because I'm scared shitless of getting bullied, or harassed, or even assaulted. Which is ironic considering I try to be quite fashionable in public but with being openly bi (let alone being openly TRANS) it's a complete no-no.

Like I think as much as I love being bi and nb at the same time I still despise it, I still think it's ruined my life. I have gender dysphoria about my chest whereas if I was cis I would be so happy with how feminine my body is. My first ever relationship with another girl at the moment being cut short by abusive homophobia fucked me up in innumerous ways, leading me to like...severe issues with the way i feel about sex and emotional attachment and touch.

And ofc there's the homophobia, like at this moment I'm probably leaning towards getting a fuckbuddy or smth over tinder but like a romantic relationship with another person is terrifying, like I'm insanely private w relationships even w men, I won't let us hold hands if I think too many people might see bc i have this stupid complex

There's more and more but my relationship with being Out is one where it's something that I simultaneously desire and despise, being Out is one of the most terrifying concepts I can think of and to me having someone refer to me as "they" and not as a woman is simply not as important as being safe, as not living in even more fear of assault.

And then all around me ppl my age (although usually younger) are all coming out to anyone and everyone like it's just casual, saying their pronouns like it's nothing. And first it's disbelief and shock because holy fuck, has everyone gone fucking mad?? Are we all so fucking stupid that we just forget the everloving fear homophobia strikes into you?? And then it's the jealousy, that these people have this comfortable relationship with their own gay/transness and enough trust to actually open up and tell a room full of strangers "please call me they not she". It's disappointment and anger in myself that almost 7 years after forcing myself to whisper "I'm bisexual" to the bathroom mirror in the middle of the night and then cry my eyes out because it felt like I'd been cursed, and probably over a decade since I'd started having sexual feelings about all genders, and an entire lifetime of having feelings for men women and others, after so long I'm still just a coward who sits and hates it all, who fears it all.

But then recently I've come to the realisation that the way I realised I was gay was a way that's kind of...dying out. That being the mostly offline way.

Don't take this the wrong way but I've found a lot of people go online and find this overwhelming amount of support and representation for gay and trans identity. You can argue validly this statement, but the context I use this in is comparing it to like. 2013. People were way less online. Being an online celebrity was a novelty.

At school there were dyke, faggot, tranny, etc, thrown around as if they were confetti. Jokes about "lesbos" and "lesbihonest" humiliated any girl who was too close to another girl. I grew up not just in Brisbane Queensland but in a town that was connected to the mainland only by two bridges - a landbridge and a humanmade bridge. The school was overwhelmingly anglo. Overwhelmingly right wing.

I realised I was bi with minimal help from Tumblr. I realised I was bi because I fell, hard, for my best friend. And then she liked me back, and our relationship was amazing. But the school found out. We held hands under the table, we found a quiet moment to kiss and everyone pointed and stared. We made out in the shadow of a building and turned to find twenty people watching gawkeyed, pointing, fascinated.

The entire time her mum was abusive, and massively homophobic. She blamed me for turning her daughter gay. She forced us multiple times to break up at the threat of violence. Eventually we did. We never talked about it. Our friendship never returned like it used to. It was awkward, tinged with sadness, regret, yearning and young love cut short.

It was traumatic, to say the least.

Tumblr in 2014, despite the cringe screenshots, wasn't actually mostly about LGBT positivity or whatever. I first saw the term bisexual on, if you can believe me, a quotev story in 2011 about a cheerleader and an emo girl who get together in a secret relationship. You were either gay or straight, or you had an exception. Bisexual felt right, though, for me, felt accurate, was accurate.

It was years of confusion and secrecy and guilt, peeks at other girls in the changing room that I couldn't help and I didn't understand why. Then it was months and months of anger and frustration at myself that I was feeling this way and confused about myself, and then when I said those words it felt like I was being torn apart. It felt like my life had fallen apart. I cried every goddamn night, I felt awful all the time.

At school the kids noticed. They noticed before I started dating my friend, they noticed the way I looked at her and they interrogated me about it. I'd claim up and down I had a crush on another boy - true perhaps, but it was a passing interest - and then they said they told him and analysed how I reacted. And then the interrogations continued for months because the gay girl was entertainment for them. Around me, as I walked between classes, had lunch, walked home, dyke dyke dyke faggot hahaha.

And then the relationship happened and then leelah alcorn happened and I learned what a trans person is. And sometime when I was fifteen I saw nonbinary begin to pop up, terms like genderfluid and nonbinary and they rang true like bisexual did, but the last time I went down a rabbit hole like that it ended in trauma, and another person got hurt. I didn't throw homophobia at her, but I felt and still feel responsible for it. I didn't turn her gay, but I made it obvious. I don't quite know how to say it.

I knew I was nonbinary, deep down. One day I decided to add that to my tumblr bio. Nobody gave a shit, just like nobody gave a shit when I said I was bi. But that was because I wasn't open about it even online. I couldn't talk about that stuff or I'd curse myself.

Time went on, I got more comfortable, collected fresh new traumas. My brother came out as trans. Around me, friends came out as gay and trans. But they kept coming out. They didn't stop at close friends and trusted family, they told teachers, their entire class. I didn't understand. Why the fuck would you put yourself at risk like that?? And I still don't. I said it was jealousy and anger at myself before, and maybe it is still a little bit, but now, it's just concern.

As I said, the way I realised I was gay is the rather old fashioned way - offline, through trauma, and almost entirely unenjoyable and traumatic. A lot of kids still go through that for sure. But the ones I see telling everyone over that they're gay or trans are, in my experience, not those ones. As the internet began to become more of a general use thing and less of a "only recluse weirdos" space, the online LGBT safe space began to expand into an audience bigger than before. Online, you were safe. Nobody knew your name, you were behind a screen. Homophobia was veiled, you could just delete a hateful anon, could just log off. You could put up your pronouns and people would use them because, well, ppl didn't really have any other identifier someone might use for your gender. So this positive uplifting atmosphere spawned for the most part. And instead of learning through confusion and rare chance encounters with random words and crying into the sink every night that you're gay, you much easier come across this content that tells you indepth what this is and that it's okay. And you think, well wow, that's me, and then...you know, I guess. Not denying there's some of the classic self hatred etc but...you have this safe space online to fall back on, and I cannot emphasise how much that has pushed the acceptance and widespread knowledge of lgbt people in the past 5 years. I didn't exactly have that space, and my realisation was through mostly real life channels, which were swamped at all sides by homophobia, at worst, abusive, at kindest, it would treat you like a sideshow attraction.

Being someone who arguably isn't old enough to brush this difference away with being an "older gay" but still having had a gay experience quite different to the majority in my generation (applying this to area as well) I have to say I'm confronted with this comfortableness other days have a lot and it's always jarring. I think also that while it's important and I'm happy that "younger" gays and transes have at least one good support network/space to fall back onto online, I do think it creates this kind of...dangerous other side, especially for those who go to schools that are LGBT positive and have families who are also friendly to that sort of stuff. I find that young gay teens are totally unprepared and unhardened for the fact that most people you run into in real life despise your guts for existing as who you are. And while we can make as many soppy gay narratives as possible about being honest about who you are and losing shame, we need to face the fact and teach young lgbt kids that being Out isn't just something you do as a ritual in being gay or trans, it's a brave thing and it's completely optional. And furthermore, most importantly, it's insanely dangerous.

I don't think that teenage, raw fear of the consequences of even the very concept of being Out has ever left me. Perhaps I have to thank the homophobic 14 yr olds who swamped me in slurs and trauma, because it's given me a survival sense that's kept me closeted so far you'd never get in.

But occasionally I'm tempted, particularly with my transness which I am only out to perhaps 3 people about, to venture into the world of telling people about yourself. I started a new uni semester and in a tutorial, the teacher handed out cards. We were to use it as a placard to write our names on it so the teacher would learn our names over the next few classes. And, if we chose...our pronouns.

I stared at that card for what felt like a million years. This has always been an ordeal. People don't know how to pronounce my name, even though it's a rather simple one. But pronouns? I'd never really told anyone those. Online, yes, and once when I was asked by a friend i was brave enough to say "any will do" but this - this wasn't the curated safe online space, this wasn't a one-time phrase to a friend. This was an open, permanent thing that would sit below me every class, declaring me to 18 other people. I wrote down "NATALYA", then beneath "she/". And then I stared some more. I felt like I was going to die. I felt like I was the biggest fool, because before I could stop myself I wrote "she/they". No "he", not yet. But...it was there.

At the end of the class the teacher collected the placards. I wanted to run back screaming, wanted to ask her for a new card so I could be safe again. But I didn't because I would look like a freak and a coward.

I still think it's stupid. I still think I've put some petty gesture that no one will ever respect (if they can call you she they won't ever call you they) above my own safety. The thing that really struck me was that it didn't feel good. The reason I wrote it like that, I believe in hindsight, is that I was curious what those other kids feel like, because it must feel good to declare that you're a tr*nny d*ke in front of the entire class, good enough to beat the stomach-lurching dread that precedes such an action. But it didn't. It just felt like an unnecessary risk. And it made me feel worse, like there was a target on the back of my head.

I think I could talk about this forever, about how so many kids believe coming out is this thing you're required to do to be a good gay, but it's not. It's stupid stupid reckless, and in my case it ends with you getting fucked over.

But Ive written for ages and gotten prosaic halfway through so I'm gonna shut up. Basically why the fuck do you guys come out to everyone like please stay safe instead of this it isn't worth it.

#tw d slur #tw f slur #tw homophobia #personal #i didnt hear much transphobia in my grade until towards the end of highschool #because nobody back then rly knew what a trans person was #also #long post #like REALLY long #t slur

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prorevenge · 5 years

Text

Girl I had a crush on in middle school bullied and mocked me for SIX YEARS. A decade later, VENGEANCE.

TL;DR at the end!

When I was in seventh grade, I moved to a new town. My father was killed in a military accident, and my mom wanted to start fresh in a new place. We came from a small town and our new apartment was in a huge city. My mom grieved my dad for over two years, but after that got back into dating and eventually married my now-stepdad, with whom she is still happily married. He's always treated us well, and I love and respect him. They have their own daughter together, my half-sister.

I didn't adjust very well. I was active and happy in my old town, but in my new town I was depressed and a loner. I entered school in the middle of the year when all the friend groups were already formed. I missed my dad a lot so just stayed home and ate and played video games.

I got fat.

Never obese, but I was chunky and out of shape compared to how I used to be.

I liked this one girl who was in a few of my classes. I'll call her "Lindsay." Lindsay was pretty and popular and she was the first girl I really had a crush on. Being shy, I never tried to talk to her.

As time went on, I made what I thought were friends with these two boys, who I will call Allan and Joey. All of us, including Lindsay, were in the seventh grade. I didn't hang out with Allan and Joey outside of school, but they'd let me hang out with them on campus. At least I didn't have to sit alone anymore.

Allan and Joey were talking about which girls were cute, and who they had a crush on. I eventually admitted that I liked Lindsay, but told them not to tell her.

Later that day, in math class which I shared with Lindsay, a note was passed to me.

It was from Lindsay!

My heart leapt, although I was nervous: did Allan and Joey tell her I liked her?

When I opened the note, my heart fell to my feet.

I get red when I'm nervous or sad.

I was never more red than that day.

Inside the note, Lindsay had written in block capital letters:

I DON'T LIKE YOU, OP

There was a little bit of giggling in the room.

I was so embarrassed I asked the teacher if I could go to the nurse.

There was loud laughter as I left.

The nurse let me stay in her office until the end of the day, which was good since my mom couldn't leave work unless I was dying, and I wasn't allowed at that point to walk home the three quarters mile to our apartment, due to a recent spate of kidnapping stories in the news. I took the school bus home as usual.

Kids laughed at me on the bus, too.

Not two days later I get called into the principal's office and get lectured by the principal how a student complained that I was stalking her.

I of course had no idea what happened but eventually I figured out that Allan and Joey told Lindsay, and Lindsay decided to make a big production about getting me into trouble.

Soon everyone on campus started to call me the creepy stalker, the hillbilly, the White trash redneck, things like that. Lindsay got all sorts of positive attention for being brave enough to tell adults about kids who harassed her.

Thing was, I was never officially reprimanded and my mom was never actually called in to talk to any adults about what I supposedly did. The principal just told me that stalking was bad and to leave Lindsay alone. I didn't really know what more I could do to leave her alone. I never even said one thing to her or tried to send any notes to her or stare at her. All I did was tell someone I thought was a friend that I liked her, and please don't tell her.

I didn't tell my mom about it.

But after Allan and Joey's betrayal, it was back to sitting by myself.

In eighth grade I still went to the same school and it was more of the same. I was still known as the uneducated redneck creeper. Lindsay was still really popular and went out with the cool guys from our class. Allan and Joey were never in the cool kid group and I suspect that they both liked Lindsay too, and were trying to suck up to her.

On Valentine's Day, I got one of those candygrams that students send to one another that they buy from student leadership at their school during holidays. Like, two dollars will get you a card and a candy bar, and a student aide will deliver it to the intended recipient, along with a sealed message.

I at least got a candy bar out of it.

The message wasn't so nice. It said,

STOP STALKING ME, FREAK

Thanks, Lindsay.

By high school, I really hit my growth spurt and eventually grew to be 6'5." I eventually got quite skinny so I began pumping a lot of iron starting in tenth grade. I became really ripped.

Allan grew up to be a b*tchy little runt and he never messed with me again. Especially after Allan, the one who asked me who I had a crush on in seventh grade, was whispering something to someone in a class we had together in eleventh grade, and looking at me and laughing.

I said really loud, "Yo, Allan you little ****, you have something to say you say it to my face like a man, don't go whispering like a little ****."

Everyone laughed and even the teacher didn't call me out or send me to the office. I think she was sick of the little punk, too.

I didn't really care to date in high school because, even though I was big and strong now, I was still awkward around girls.

Joey actually came around, though.

In eleventh grade he approached me and apologized for how he treated me in middle school. He said that Allan was the one who told Lindsay that I liked her. He told me that Allan had a crush on Lindsay, too, and was trying to score points with her. I thanked him, and although we were never really friends after that in school, I wasn't mean to him, and he wasn't mean to me.

We were "fist bump" acquaintances.

Lindsay was still really popular in high school. Not quite as popular as in middle school, because in high school there was more "hot girl" competition. But she still held her own.

I didn't lack for attention from other girls, but more often than not the girl would tell me that Lindsay told them I was a stalker, and harassed her in middle school.

Lots of girl accused me of that in high school, especially the ones I rejected.

Eventually, since I was rejecting a lot of girls, some of whom were in the popular group (and Lindsay was still in the cool kid group at this time) people spread rumors saying I was homosexual.

I don't happen to be gay.

Nothing wrong with being gay, but the way these people were throwing it around, it was as if being gay was an insult. Really disappointing, considering this was a huge, progressive city. I might have thought such attitudes were common in my old home town, but it was surprising, here.

I'd sometimes find notes in my locker calling me [homophobic expletive]. Of course, no one, especially any guys would own up to it, because by this time I was huge, not just in height but I was also really jacked. Side note about that. I asked the custodian, a really chill dude especially if you slip him a twenty, if I could look at the surveillance videos of the halls that he had on his office computer. It actually pinpointed who was putting notes in my locker.

It wasn't Allan.

I would have loved if it was Allan because I would cave his face in.

It was actually this wannabe gangbanger who walked around in sunglasses and baggy pants and flannel shirts buttoned to the top. Looked like a total toolbag.

So I caught him in the parking lot one day with his girlfriend and said he forgot something.

Then I showed him six or seven notes that he had put in my locker.

He tried to act like he didn't know what I was talking about but I slapped him in front of his girlfriend and said next time I find a note in my locker I'm going to make you look like a weak **** in front of the whole school, not just your ****.

I never got a note from him after that.

But before he drove off like a deflated White cholo balloon, he admitted that Lindsay and her crew were behind it.

Nowadays, and especially if my kid were the victim, I'd want him or her to tell an adult, but back then I had this "snitches get stiches" mentality, and decided to just suck it up.

Right around this time, social media was really starting to take off, especially that website where you had your own personal space, and could have a "top five friend" row, could use HTLM to switch out music, and have personalized wallpaper. Looking back, I think I preferred this space of mine to that boring book of faces.

Most of my online friends were older than me and from all over the place. I liked having online friends because at least you could delete them, just like that, if you decided they suck.

Unlike high school, where people you've mentally cancelled were still on campus every day.

Joey was my online friend (still is) and he pointed me to a page he found on that website.

It was a bogus one, that had stolen pictures from my real account, and was using my whole name.

It was full of hateful, homophobic slurs and accusing me of being a stalker.

By tracing this fake profile's "friends," I could tell it had originated from the Lindsay group.

I flagged the account and it was soon taken down.

To this day, I don't get why Lindsay found it so necessary to hate me so much that she had to try to ruin my middle and high school years, just because I happened to like her a little bit in seventh grade.

Anyway, in high school, I wasn't a loner anymore. I was on the basketball team and track team and swim team, so I had friends, but I was never in the very top-tier popularity group. Lindsay was in that top group, though she was mostly one of the hangers-on of the most popular girls in school. Like, she was in that group, but was never Beyonce.

And though I had my share of fun with girls in high school (never dated, just hooked up), I could never shake the reputation that I had "stalked" Lindsay.

Well, I graduated and moved on.

I went to college for accounting, and eventually became a CPA. I still work out every day, and so I stayed in really good shape. I also continued to play sports in college, though I never had the desire (or talent, really) to make it my profession. With the help of my awesome stepdad, who's an accountant, too, we opened our own small financial service with a dozen employees.

We're doing alright!

Eventually, a man comes in, looking for a job as an accountant.

Lo and behold, it's Joey!

Haven't seen him in years. Still looks the same, maybe a little balder but otherwise pretty good. We catch up, and since he's gone to school for accounting himself and has a good resume, we hire him.

He does fine for a couple of years, and we've actually become good friends. We've put the past behind us. I went to his wedding. He went to mine. I went to his son's baptism, and he went to my daughter's.

We're friends on social media, and neither of us keep in touch with people from middle and high school.

Bygones are bygones.

And time passes.

One day Joey asks me if I got a letter in the mail inviting us to our ten year high school reunion. I tell him no, and remember that the school doesn't have any of my updated addresses, since my mom and stepdad moved a couple of times since I graduated, and anyway I don't live with them anymore. Joey is taking care of his sick mother, so his wife and child moved in with his mom in his childhood home.

He shows me the letter. Typical stuff, except hey now! Lindsay is on the reunion committee.

It has her email address and everything.

I haven't thought about her in years.

Since I'm in front of my computer, I look up her email address on Face-libro, and it leads right to her since her privacy settings are minimal.

Her current photos don't do her any favors.

She's aged badly.

It looks like she had a couple of kids and was married once, but is now a single mom, and sharing custody with her ex husband.

She gained a lot of weight and doesn't look like she used to.

Really, I wonder if it's even her. But the name matches up, and the school history matches up.

I was thinking how LOL it would be if her ex husband was Allan, but it wasn't.

Allan WAS on her friends list, though.

Clicking on him, it doesn't look like he amounted to anything. Never attended college, but that's okay if he does other productive things. But he doesn't. It seems he washed out of the army, and has worked a series of menial jobs and now lives in another state far away. Seems like he's obsessed with just smoking weed and trying to date teenagers these days.

Per Lindsay, from her updates it looks like she is big on the dating scene, but hasn't found Mr. Right, and it's frustrating her because she has "so much to offer."

Like her crushing student debt that she complains about in one post, for her super cool and useful almost-degree in fashion design, that she never quite earned because she "fell in love" and got married with some loser from high school.

Or how her children don't respect her in another post.

Or how she has several go-gimme-funds just to raise the rent on her crap studio apartment.

Or her amazing, exciting career as a junior shift supervisor at that popular coffee shop, Galacticbucks.

Holy cow.

I think life got my revenge on her, for me.

But I think this b*tch needs a little nudge.

I tell Joey no, I'm not going to the reunion, are you?

He says he will, because he wants to see if any of his favorite teachers are still around.

And he tells me, "don't you want to show off to people how successful you are now?"

LoL. We're boring accountants, not Navy SEALS or hedgefunders over here.

So, I tell him no, but if you're going, say hi to people for me.

Will do!

The reunion is still a couple of months away.

For what I'm going to do, I need my wife's permission.

After I explain how Lindsay treated me in middle and high school, about all the stalker and anti-gay stuff, my wife tells me, mid breast-feed, to destroy, with prejudice, and in detail.

Thanks, dear.

I look completely different in the face compared to high school.

Still, I don't want to use my own photos.

So, instead, I gather lots of stock photos of a particular male model.

Sorry dude, I hope you don't mind! Anyway I'm sure lots of catfish use you as their hook, Mr. Inoffensive, Conventionally Handsome Buff German Guy.

And then I make a profile on that awesome dating site, AcceptableCupid, after I learn on the Libro de Face that Lindsay is on there.

The idiot actually doxes her own username, she's that thirsty for attention.

Right when I launch my profile I get a few spam emails and desperate cat calls from lonely women.

I ignore those and go right for the kill.

I send a message to Lindsay telling her how amazing and interesting she is.

Since she's such an unattractive person in every way, I don't think there's a long line of suitors vying for her attention, and I'm right.

Within minutes, I get her reply.

We begin a message-exchange on the site, and I gradually gain her confidence, mostly by flattering her.

She doesn't tell me she's a mom, even after several days of messaging, which is odd. She implies strongly that she's a career person and artist. Haha okay, relax there, Lindsay.

Eventually I share a pic with her, and she fawns over how gorgeous I am (thanks, innocent German model!)

I am glad she can't hear me laughing when I type that she is beautiful.

As days pass, she begs me to give her permission to share my photos to her book of the face, where she is bragging about me.

I tell her that there is a time for that. Soon she can share my pic and I will share hers.

I lull her into thinking I'm respectful and want to take time in figuring out "us."

Throughout this whole time, I keep giving her opportunities to tell me she's a mom.

I get her to say that "for the right guy, I'll make my existence only about him and me. Everything else is second place."

I also get her to say that she "can't stand" kids.

This is already a long story, so I'll try to at least shorten it a little here.

Eventually, she invites me to her high school reunion.

I tell her how much I'd love to go, but that I live in another state and can't get time off from my highly paid executive job (LOL) until a date a few days after. But I promise her that we will have a date at a VERY expensive restaurant.

She's bragging all over her social media that she has a new hot guy online, and has a date with him. Of course her friends are begging her to share his pics, but she doesn't, to her credit.

She does brag about how this will teach her ex a lesson, that she can still pull the hottest dudes.

Everyone online in her friend group (I was not shocked to see that most of her friends were other losers from school, and how she never seemed to grow up) was cheerleading her, telling her how much she deserved this.

You sure do, Lindsay!

I don't tell Joey what I'm doing a few desks away from him at work. Every spare moment I have from my job, I devote to messing with Lindsay. Sending her messages about how beautiful she is, how I will take her on trips. Eventually I learn her phone number.

I hit the convenience store, let's call it "seven hundred and eleven," and buy a cheap cellphone with minutes-card. I begin texting Lindsay about how I think she's so amazing, refreshing, so real.

Just to see if she's still a hateful B-word, I tell her about how during my online dating, sometimes guys will try to chat with me. She immediately laments how [homophobic expletives] need to stay away from straights.

Okay, Lindsay, you're trash.

I text her back that I don't mind when guys message me because I have my acceptable cupid account set for "friends" in addition to romantic partners.

She immediately backpedals when she sees that gay guys don't offend me.

Whatever, Lindsay, I know what you are.

Anyway Joey goes to the reunion with his wife. His mother is ill, but well enough to watch his son for a few hours.

The high school is about twenty miles from our place of business.

Joey tells me that all the expected people were there.

He was sad to learn that one of the popular teachers had passed away, but most of the others were still working there.

He saw a lot of the former popular kids.

He texted me some of their selfies together.

Too bad Allan didn't make it. Probably still chasing a statutory charge in his new home state.

With few exceptions, most of our former classmates looked like they peaked in high school.

Sad, considering we're all still under thirty.

I didn't ask him about her or try to coach him on anything to say, but Joey told me that Lindsay, one of the officers in charge of the reunion committee, was bragging to everyone about this hot guy she was messaging online, and how she had a date with him.

According to Joey, people were marveling about how unbelievably handsome the guy was, "like a model!"

I'm glad that Lindsay was never the sharpest tool in the shed, otherwise a simple reverse image search would reveal that the photos were of a very famous European model.

Joey told me that Lindsay was bragging about how the guy online was in love with her, and how they had a date next week, and how he was a rich CEO of some mysterious, never named company.

Joey told me that a lot of the girls were encouraging Lindsay to "marry him and his money!"

Although I appreciated Joey's updates, they weren't actually necessary since Lindsay flooded her book of the face with tons of photos from that night, as did her crappy friends.

Eventually I spoke to Lindsay on the phone.

Amazing.

In middle school and high school, I never once really talked to her.

I only told one d*ckbag in seventh grade that I liked Lindsay, and after that, it was all just gossip and rumors that she started.

This was the first time I really heard her voice, and I wasn't even me, I was "Herr Deutsche Model."

She told me how "sexy" my voice was.

Really, Lindsay? Because I was pinching my nose and trying to sound different, not that she knew what I sounded like for real anyway.

I told her I couldn't wait for our date, and told her which restaurant it would be. I also told her I was staying at a certain five star hotel. I said that we could go there after dinner, which is of course polite talk for "we will f*ck on date number one."

I made sure this particular exchange was on the acceptable cupid site.

I could tell she was falling hard for me, especially the way she plastered her social media with updates on her dreamboat.

Hey, Lindsay, you've got two kids and you never post ANYTHING about them on social media.

Are you ashamed of your children?

Meanwhile she's telling the world she's going to f*ck some stranger she's never met.

Lindsay, Lindsay, Lindsay...

A truly trash human.

Over the following few days she never did own up to having kids, but she did admit she worked at Spacebucks Coffee as a "side thing," for fun in addition to all of the art she said she did, and having her own business. I assume she's talking about her online store at 3tsy that she brags about on the book of mugshots where she sells really crappy beaded jewelry that only drunk ravers might find appealing.

By this time she's given me her full name and I've given her my made up name.

She says that her job at LunarBucks is a total joke, her coworkers are idiots, her manager is mentally deficient, and that she often takes home pastries at the end of the night, supposedly to give to the poor (nah, Lindsay. I've seen your pics. You clearly be eating them scones personally). According to Lindsay, she's supposed to "mark out" expired pastries and dispose of them for various city code reasons.

But she goes all SJW with me and tells me that "why should all that perfectly good food go to waste? It's truly an evil company."

Yeah, whatever Lindsay, you racist, elitist homophobe.

Anyway, fast forward to our date.

The restaurant is only a couple of miles from my business, and I scheduled our date for shortly after we closed for the evening.

I scheduled everything in such a way that I wouldn't miss my wife's famous lasagna later for dinner.

I parked not far from the window, in a parking lot adjacent from the restaurant. I couldn't park at the restaurant itself, as it was an extremely expensive place that had valet parking only.

As scheduled, I see Lindsay waddle into the front door, coming out of her rideshare. I had instructed her to give her name to the host, and be seated at a specific table.

I happen to know, because she said so on the libro of the face, that she was ashamed of her beat up 2001 Chevy Cavalier.

I assume she expected her hot date to drive her home after an amazing night of what I can only assume is--with her--vomit-inducing, and malodorous love-making. I told her I would be arriving in a Maserati.

I see her sit at the table I arranged earlier. I see her playing with her phone. Probably bragging about our date to whoever.

After twenty minutes of stringing her along, I see my courrier arrive on a red Vespa, just as he told me he would. The courrier I scheduled to arrive at a certain time, twenty minutes after Lindsay's arrival. He wouldn't bring the item unless I texted the go-ahead, which I did. He texted me, "here!"

And I saw him take the bear out of his backpack.

His task was to ride to a certain gift store I never really frequented, and pick up a small, stuffed bear whose arms could surround anything from a bouquet of roses to a box of candy to an envelope with a million dollar check in it. The courrier was then supposed to bring the bear to the restaurant host. The host would then of course bring the bear to Lindsay.

The courrier handed the bear to the host. I didn't see the handoff because that part of the restaurant was out of my vision, but I did see the courrier ride away after I received a text saying "done!"

I DID see the host give the bear to Lindsay, which was the important part.

I was parked close enough to see her face as she read the note I had typed and placed inside the envelope I had the bear holding, next to a fancy chocolate bar.

I DON'T LIKE YOU, LINDSAY

Her face.

HER FACE!

OMG.

She looked like she was going to die, right there.

I received a WTF? Text from her.

I started driving home.

Text after confused text.

Twenty or more.

She never knows when to drop it.

Finally, I pull into my driveway.

Wife and daughter at home.

I hear their laughter.

The good kind.

I smell the lasagna, and my wife kisses me.

She asks me if I had a good day.

I tell her yes, most definitely!

And then, before I take the phone's battery out and break the cellphone into a hundred pieces before throwing it in the garbage, I send Lindsay one more text:

STOP STALKING ME, FREAK

The next day, I couldn't help it.

I looked at Lindsay's social media.

Set to private!

I'm wondering if her narcissistic ass knew that it was ME that played her. Especially since the mascot for our middle and high schools was a bear, that didn't look too different from the stuffed one I had given her.

I don't really care.

All I know, is that now I have closure.

Especially after I sent the screen captures of our alrighty-cupid messages (my own user name and fake photo blocked out) to CPS, where Lindsay bragged about hating kids and told me what she thought about being a mom. And said she was going to be screwing a strange man on the first day meeting him.

Maybe ex-hubby will get full custody, and give those children the attention they deserve.

Her boss at Galaxybucks was certainly interested in my recording of her calling him "a retard" and that she stole pastries that she was supposed to mark out at the end of the night and that her company was an evil corporation and that they were a "joke."

Random call to her store a few weeks later.

"Is Lindsay there?"

"Oh, she no longer works here."

Damn right she doesn't, LMAO!

Go to Hell, Lindsay.

Hey, at least you got a candy bar out of it.

Thanks for reading!

PS: A few days ago, my wife asked me whatever happened to that revenge I had planned on that mean girl from middle school. I told her I've moved on, that it was too long ago, and that I needn't be petty. She told me how much she admired me for my restraint. "If it were me, I would have cut a b*tch."

One day, I think I'll confess. Maybe one of those deathbed things. About how I kicked a loser when she was already down and laughed while doing so. Oh well.

TL;DR: Girl wrongfully accused me of stalking when we were in middle school, and bullied me in middle and high school. Years later, fat, alone, and defeated by life, time had given me revenge. Still, I felt like beating a dead horse.

(source) story by (/u/OpenFaceClubSammich)

#prorevenge #by /u/OpenFaceClubSammich #pro revenge #revenge stories #pro revenge stories #pro #revenge #last10

656 notes · View notes

sparklyicecube · 4 years

Text

Houseki No Gift Exchange - A Gamer’s Christmas

To: @diisuke

From: @sparklyicecube

Merry Christmas~

“A Rutile, nice! Here Phos, take it. You could use a boost.”

“Nah, I know you’ve been eyeing that gem for your collection anyway.”

“Phos. You have 13hp left.”

“But Moony, it’s a Rutile though, I know you wanted to get at least one of these~"

“Fine! I’ll take it.”

“Yes, take it! I know you want it.”

“It is a really amazing item though; it can heal your hp and it’s super valuable…”

“Exactly, so take it!”

“I will!”

“Phosphophylitte! Are you flirting with your Moony-chan again?” Antarcticite’s voice rang out from beyond Phos’s headset.

Phos went red from the comment, even though Moonwalkerpatrol and them decided to date they had not gotten used to it all. Antarcticite leaned down and pulled the mic of the headset to their own mouth, pressing their ear to the side of the headset.

“Hello Moonwalkerpatrol, as much as I enjoy seeing Phos spend time with other, respectable people, they do have an exam tomorrow and they need to sleep.”

“Oh, no problem, I have an exam tomorrow too. Phos watch out-! “

Antarc and Phos watched the screen flash as Phos got killed by a stray monster.

“I told you to take the Rutile.” Came Cinnabar’s amused voice. “Goodnight Phos, sweet dreams.”

(Houseki No Kuni Gift Exchange!)

“I’m going to ask to meet them today, we can meet up in real life!” Phos was skipping down the pavement on the way to school, Antarc following close behind.

“No gaming in class.” Reminded Antarcticite.

“Haiiiiiiiii.”

As they entered the classroom through the back door Phos saw Cinnabar look up at them, through their bright red hair their eyes made eye contact, Phos hid behind Antarc, hiding from Cinnabar in way any onlookers would describe as comedic.

The class was still incomplete, and students were openly talking, gossiping and laughing, Cinnabar was vaguely aware of dying in the game they were playing.

“I told you Phos hates me.” Bort looked up from the notebook they were writing in at Cinnabar’s statement.

“They don’t hate you Cinnabar,” Cinnabar looked dejectedly at their own notebook, “They’re just scared of you.” Cinnabar slumped slightly lower.

“Way to go in making me feel better.” No one in class had anything against Cinnabar, they just weren’t close to them, no one but Phos it seemed.

Bort put down their pen, a slightly guilty expression on their face. “Look, Phos just doesn’t know you well enough, which is fair since no one really does, but maybe if you make more of an effort to talk to them, they’ll like you more?”

Cinnabar thought for a while, then took their phone and opened an app, a game to be precise. “You know this game?”

Bort leaned over to look at the game. “Yeah, of course I have, you play it all the time in chemistry.”

“Well, this is the mobile version, at home I play it on my PC, but either way, I’m dating this- “

“You’re dating?!” Bort wasn’t loud enough for the whole school to hear but it certainly was loud enough for most of the class to turn around. “Sorry. They’re a real person right?”

“Yes to both, I mean, I think so. We act like we’re dating, and we say we love each other before we go offline, and we send virtual kisses, but we’ve never really said we were dating? I mean except that one time but I’m not sure whether it was a joke. Anyway. I’m 99% sure I know who I’m dating.”

“You know they could be scamming you, or catfishing you, or trying to kill you…”

“Okay one, you are paranoid, and two, look at their username!” Cinnabar pointed to the username that read: Phos3.5.

Bort slowly looked at Cinnabar, then at Phos who was sitting nearer the front trying to balance a pencil on the back of their pinkie finger, back to the username, they let out a small chuckle.

“This is funny to you isn’t it.”

“I don’t know it just seems like a cheesy drama, either way if you’ve managed to date Phos in the game you definitely can date in real life, right? I mean I don’t get your taste but if you guys are already dating it won’t be that hard. Find out whether they are really the same person though, otherwise it’ll be awkward.”

“I- “Cinnabar got cut short by their chemistry teacher coming in, Bort immediately switched focus to the material and the lesson while Cinnabar took out their phone to text the number that Phos gave them a while ago.

Moonwalkerpatrol: Hi 😊

Phos3.5: Hiii!!! 😊😊😊

Phos3.5: What’s up?

Moonwalkerpatrol: Nothing, just wanted to see how you were doing

Phos3.5: Im doing fine!!! Class is boring though…

Find out whether they are the same person.

Moonwalkerpatrol: What class are you having?

Phos3.5: Chemistry I think?

Moonwalkerpatrol: You think?

Cinnabar looked up and stretched their neck to look at Phos, who was, in fact, typing under the table.

“Cinnabar, you seem excited, could you tell me the last step of crystallisation?” Cinnabar immediately shrunk back, looking at the board in hope that it would offer some sort of help.

“I-in an experiment for salt? O-or for gemstones?”

“In an experiment to obtain salt.”

Cinnabar stuttered for a bit when Bort subtly slid over their notes. “Uh, turning off the heat and letting the rest of the water evaporate naturally.”

“Correct.” Cinnabar shrunk back into their seat, face burning after a having to speak in front of the whole class, sinking their head into their arms.

*Ping* *Ping* *Ping* *Ping*

Cinnabar looked up at their phone, which was dinging quietly with notifications. If that new fighting game that they downloaded was the culprit then it could be deleted, it wasn’t that interesting. It wasn’t, indeed, the new fighting game, instead they were looking at 35 new messages from Phos3.5.

Phos3.5: MOONY

Phos3.5: Are you there?

Phos3.5: R u ok?

Phos3.5: Where are you?

Phos3.5: Answer me I’m getting worried

Phos3.5: You could see my messages then you couldn’t, are you ok?

Moonwalkerpatrol: Srry

Phos3.5: OMG are you okay???

Moonwalkerpatrol: I’m okay, just contemplating why I’m alive

Phos3.5: ☹

Phos3.5: Is it smth I said?

Phos3.5: Im sorry

Phos3.5: I love you tho

Moonwalkerpatrol: I’m sorry, it’s not your fault!

Phos3.5: You’re alive cus you’re an amazing person

Phos3.5: And you probably are an amazing person in real life too

Phos3.5: You’re great at gaming but you’re also really good in making me feel good

Phos3.5: And you’re probably really pretty too

Phos3.5: But even if you aren’t you’re beautiful inside and I know that for a fact.

Cinnabar stared at the texts that had overwhelmingly positive compliments that were flowing in unprompted and unconditionally.

Moonwalkerpatrol: Sorry… just thinking of stuff and got distracted so I didn’t see your messages

Phos3.5: Haha, there was some poor kid who got picked on by Sensei to say the answer, I would’ve helped them but I didn’t really know the answer either…

Moonwalkerpatrol: …I feel sorry for them

Phos3.5: Yeah… they’re sorta scary but they are sorta pretty too. I’m sure you’re pretty too tho

Cinnabar mentally processed the fact that Phos called their real self pretty, giving them the confidence that spurred them to text their next message.

Moonwalkerpatrol: About real life tho, do you want to meet up sometime? Like, in real life?

Phos stared at their phone in awe, with wide, wavering eyes, ignoring the teacher entirely.

Phos3.5: AAAAAAA I was thinking the same thing!!!

Phos3.5: Wait that wasn’t a typo right? You don’t mean the Ruby Stadium on level 5 right?

Phos3.5: Or the Shackle Ruins that we usually meet at

Moonwalkerpatrol: Nope

Moonwalkerpatrol: Uh actually

Cinnabar took a deep breath, ironic as they were texting and not speaking.

Moonwalkerpatrol: I go to a school called Gakuen Houseki, we could meet at the gates at some point?

Phos3.5: OMG!

Phos3.5: I GO THERE TOO!

Phos3.5: THIS IS AMAZING!

The bell rang, signalling the end of this period and the start of the next one, Bort was flipping through their notes trying to memorise as much as possible. Antarc lightly smacked Phos.

“What?” Phos questioned, still on a high.

“Class, as you – should – already know we have an exam today. Books aside, pencil cases out and phones away, I’m looking at you Phos.” Phos reluctantly put their phone away as the class plunged into a concentrated area of fear and concentration.

(Houseki No Kuni Gift Exchange!)

“So, they go to our school, and they want to meet you.” Antarcticite confirmed, walking back home after school.

“Yep! We just have to decide on a date.”

“Where are you guys going to go?”

Phos hm’d for a while, staring up at the sky. “I don’t know, maybe… the Waffle House?”

“Not the place I’d go for my first date, but I won’t judge.” Phos reddened at the statement, only really registering the ‘meet up’ aspect and not considering that it might be their first legitimate date.

Once they got home Phos rushed to the computer and started it up.

“Hi Moony-kun,” chimed Phos as they connected their headsets.

“Hi Phos. How was your exam?”

“I’m pretty sure I bombed it, you?”

“I don’t pay attention in Biology so...”

“You had a Bio test too? Do you have Alexandrite sensei too?”

“Yeah, that sensei is tough, they give tests all the time.”

“So, when do we meet? Wednesday?”

Cinnabar considered this, it was Monday, but the Waffle House Cinnabar was thinking of going to only served their favourite dish on Sunday.

“Sunday maybe? I want to take you somewhere, but the best dish is only served on Sunday.”

“I have somewhere I wanna take you too! We’ll take turns then.”

The game started and they both turned from discussing their Sunday plans to screaming strategy.

(Houseki No Kuni Gift Exchange!)

The days went by a little too slowly, Phos was sprawled on the grass tearing apart flowers while Antarc was trying to help teach them the homework, inside the classroom was a very different atmosphere.

“Cinnabar, are you okay?” Jade looked at them in concern, Cinnabar was killing zombies on their phone, letting off some steam.

“Yeah, it was just a dumb argument anyway.” Cinnabar mumbled.

“Well… Dia is crying in the janitor’s closet right now and refuses to come out so I was wondering whether you were okay. It’s okay to not be okay.”

Cinnabar suddenly felt the world’s eyes on them, like in a click of the switch, or the reality of Jade’s words just crashing into them like a bullet train. If Cinnabar were to be honest with themselves, they legitimately did not feel bad about the argument, it was dumb, they should apologise, and they felt slightly ashamed for running their mouth like that, but not hurt. That scared them. Now Dia, one of the softest, kindest students in the class was off crying in the closet because of something that they did. It should hurt. Cinnabar should be feeling sadness, or anger, but all they’re feeling is guilt. This overwhelming guilt and a gnawing voice that tells them that everything they touch crumbles and dies, is stained or shattered.

Cinnabar noticed a soft *ping* from their phone.

Phos3.5: Heyyyyyy

Phos3.5: Im bored

Phos3.5: You’re not in class right

Cinnabar thought about it, about seeing Phos and knowing and being with them in person, not just behind a screen or from across the classroom. Phos was pure, innocent and kind. They wouldn’t want someone like them anyway.

Moonwalkerpatrol: Actually, I’ve been thinking that this isn’t really sustainable.

Phos3.5: Busting out the big words? Haha

Moonwalkerpatrol: Phos, I think it’s best if we don’t see each other on Sunday. This wasn’t going to work out anyway.

Phos3.5: I don’t get it, are you cancelling our date?

Cinnabar bit their tongue at the word ‘date’, forcing tears back into their eyes.

Moonwalkerpatrol: Not just the date, I think we should break up.

Phos stared at the words in disbelief, everything was going fine, they didn’t have a fight or anything! Moonwalker couldn’t just… they couldn’t just leave like that.

Phos3.5: But why?

Phos3.5: What happened?

Phos3.5: We can work this out, talking is always the best, keeping everything inside isn’t going to help.

Phos3.5: Moonwalker?

Cinnabar couldn’t bear to look at the messages, turning off their phone and packing their things.

“Cinnabar!” Cinnabar spun around, trying to break the grip that Bort had on their arm, “It’s only lunch time, you aren’t going home are you?” Cinnabar bit back tears, forcing them to stay in their eyes and not drip down.

“And if I am? You can’t stop me.”

“Look, Dia is sensitive and cracks easily, but that doesn’t mean you can just run away from it.”

“This isn’t about Dia okay? Let me go!”

“No, I can report you to the teacher for trying to skip class and they’ll have record of it, do you want a black mark?”

“Oh, now you’re threatening me?” Cinnabar felt a trickle slowly make its way down their cheek. “Just leave me alone.”

Bort sighed and let go. Cinnabar didn’t bolt or run, just sat down and put their head in their arms.

“It’s okay to talk about it you know. I’m really bad with people but I won’t judge.” When Cinnabar turned their head slightly to peer at Bort the other had sat down and was looking at them with almost reassuring eyes, their words echoed Phos’s too much to ignore. Phos.

“I-I broke up with Phos.” Bort looked taken aback.

“Before or after the fight?”

“After. It’s just, whenever I do anything it just hurts everyone around me: Dia, you – I don’t want Phos to be the next one.” Cinnabar rested their cheek on their arms, eyes almost but not quite closed.

“Well firstly, it’s going to take a lot more than being a bit angry to hurt me, so I can be taken off your list of victims thank you very much.” Bort paused, sensing that it might not have been the best thing to start with. “But secondly, you have been nothing but kind to Phos. You’re a bit rough on the edges but it isn’t a guarantee that they’ll get hurt because you’re there, if that was true you would’ve hurt them by now from how long you tell me you’ve been together.”

“Phos deserves better than me.”

“I would actually argue that you could do better than Phos.” Cinnabar glared at Bort, who managed to get the point. “Either way, aren’t you hurting them way more by dumping them?”

Cinnabar felt like the world was sucking out their soul, slowly reeling it into the darkness.

“It’s better that I hurt them now rather than have them be hurt by me many times in the future.”

(Houseki No Kuni Gift Exchange!)

Phos was crying, while Antarc hugged them, seething with rage but trying their best to have a reassuring, comforting aura. They bit back insults towards Moonwalker as they knew it wouldn’t make Phos feel any better, but they sit were angry that anyone would hurt Phos like that.

“I-I don’t know *sniff* why they would do that. I- *sniff* I didn’t say anything wrong, did I?” Antarc handed them a tissue.

“You didn’t do anything wrong Phosphophylitte, in no way was it your fault.” Antarc bit back the unsaid ‘It was Moonwalker’s fault’. “Come on now, wipe your tears and toughen up. We can learn from this that unexpected things can happen, even if they are unpleasant. We can’t fight it; all we can do is stand up afterwards. So get up, that’s it.” Antarc helped Phos get on their feet, still blowing into the tissue. The warning bell rang, Antarc shouldered Phos’s things for them.

Cinnabar watched them walk into the class, Phos with red eyes and sniffing and Dia being quiet and down. They buried their head in their hands.

Antarc scanned the classroom, for once not paying attention to the lesson as much. There was only one class having a Biology test on Monday and that was their class, if Moonwalkerpatrol was from their school (which most likely they were telling the truth as they could chat with Phos about a particular teacher) then they would be in this class. Antarc heard Moonwalkerpatrol’s voice before, they could remember hearing something similar in one of their classes, but they couldn’t remember who…

“Could Bort’s group present next?” Bort nudged Cinnabar, who was the other member in the group.

“Is Cinnabar okay?” The teacher looked mildly concerned.

“They just,” Bort hesitated, “Didn’t get much sleep last night.”

Cinnabar sat up, “I’m fine,” they said quietly.

The two got to the front of the class and presented, Cinnabar said the information they needed to, in as loud a voice as they could since the teacher interrupted them several times to say they needed to be louder. The entire class’s eyes were on them, they could feel it. They could feel the stares, the whispers, Cinnabar glanced towards Phos, who was staring at them with slightly narrowed eyes, Cinnabar broke eye contact and looked away guiltily. That made them feel worse. The other groups did their presentations, they had another class, and finally the bell rang to signal the end of the day.

“Phos, you walk home first okay? I have something to do first.” Antarc said after class.

“Oh, okay.”

Antarc walked to the back of the classroom where Cinnabar sat.

“Hey.” Cinnabar jerked their head up, looking Antarcticite in the eye, that was another reason they knew it was Phos, because they were sure it was Antarc’s voice through the headset sometimes as well. They averted their eyes to their notebook. “You’re Moonwalkerpatrol aren’t you.”

Cinnbar nodded, with only the barest of movement to indicate confirmation.

“Are you trying to pick on Cinnabar?” Came Bort’s voice, with Bort glaring at Antarc, the two locked in a fierce battle with knives and swords and saws clashing.

“Cinnabar just dumped Phos over text with no indication why after they were the one to ask them to meet in real life. If that doesn’t sound like asshole material, I don’t know what will!”

“Cinnabar might seem like an ice queen, but they can’t be because you obviously claim that throne. They feel really bad about it, and literally only did that because they are an insecure person who for some reason doesn’t think they’re good enough for someone as lame as Phos!”

Cinnabar was surprised that Bort was standing up for them but with every word from either of their mouths they sunk lower into their chair, wishing they could disappear, wishing they could go away, wishing-

“SHUT UP! Both of you!”

Cinnabar looked up to see none other than Phosphophylitte them self, arms straight out beside them after stomping their foot.

“Phos, I thought you went back.”

“Well after I figured out who Moonwalkerpatrol was, did you really think I’d go? Antarc, I get that you care about me, and that you’re angry but this has nothing, nothing to do with you.” Phos grabbed Cinnabar’s hand, who was still in shock, and pulled them out of the classroom.

(Houseki No Kuni Gift Exchange!)

Cinnabar breathed out, with their breath appearing as a misty steam in the cold, winter air. They were still holding onto Phos’s hand, which wasn’t pulling at theirs anymore, there was no point for their hands to be linked except for the fact that it never felt right for them to let go. The silence was rather comforting, there was a hint of frost on the pavement and a cooling breeze. Cinnabar felt Phos shiver.

“Are you okay?” Cinnabar realised that Phos’s hand was cold and stopped.

“I’m fine, just a bit cold, I didn’t bring my jacket…” Cinnabar considered this, they hadn’t brought a jacket either, but something caught their eye.

“C’mon, let’s go inside.”

Both stepped into the Waffle House, the warmth washing over them.

“Ah, I have some money in my pocket, let’s get something.” Cinnabar hadn’t used their lunch money; they had decided to skip today, and lunch had been a bit hectic.

After both were seated with warm wraps and a milkshake, Phos decided to break the silence.

“I’ll pay you back.” They blurted, after having taken a bite and feeling a bit warmer.

“You really don’t need to; they don’t cost much anyway. Besides, I owe you.”

Phos put down their wrap. “Moony-kun, you don’t owe me anything, you know that right? Yes, I was upset, but not with you, just the fact that I didn’t know why. I understand now, and I still love you just as much.”

“Ah, see that, right there. You forgave me so easily. I don’t deserve that.”

“Yes, you do. That isn’t arguable. Now eat your wrap, it’s going cold and you look underweight.”

Cinnabar obediently bit into the wrap, it was genuinely delicious and filled Cinnabar with a warmth that coursed through their body.

“When did you become so responsible?”

“What do you mean? I’ve always been more mature than my age.” They both laughed, Phos trying to drink the milkshake and getting whipped cream on the side of their mouth due to not being able to stay still.

“There you go, being soooo grown up.” Cinnabar said, using their thumb to wipe the whipped cream off, then promptly licking it off their thumb.

Phos gasped, “Moony-chan! - Cinnabar - that was an indirect kiss!”

“Well firstly, you can still call me Moony if you want to but my name is Cinnabar so you can call me whatever you like. Secondly,” Cinnabar leaned closer to Phos, “Aren’t we dating already?”

Phos turned as red as well, a Cinnabar, and made a failed attempt at hiding behind their wrap.

“So we are dating again. Good.” Phos lowered their wrap and looked at Cinnabar, “I’m really glad that Moonwalkerpatrol turned out to be you, you look prettier than your avatar in the game, and Aurora is pretty sexy.”

Cinnabar stared at Phos with their mouth agape, slowly flushing red. “You-you- when did you get smooth?!” Phos laughed at that and they continued chatting and talking as the clock moved its hands.

“I was planning on taking you here, they only have the blueberry delight waffle on Sunday,” mentioned Cinnabar.

“Same! For the exact same reasons! I guess if we went out on Sunday, we’d wouldn’t know what to do after Waffle House.

Just then the bells at the door dinged as it was opened, the two looked up as the shop had been fairly quiet. The two who came in were none other than Antarcticite and Bortz, bickering while holding twice the number of bags they should have been.

“Why would they come to the Waffle House?!”

“Well maybe not everyone is an ice queen and has warm blood running through their veins and so need some warmth!”

“That makes no sense, if your point is that humans are warm blooded creatures then that proves my point that your body can regulate its own body temperature.”

Antarc spotted Phos and Cinnabar, who were watching in amusement.

“There you are! You left and walked all the way here without your bag, money or even your jacket!”

“I’m fine, Cinnabar paid for the wraps and we talked things out. Everything is okay now.”

Bort and Antarc shared a look that wasn’t of pure hatred, and after putting the bags on the seats they both bowed.

“I’m sorry I got mad at you and yelled without knowing what happened.”

“I’m sorry for calling you lame and for yelling back without watching my tongue.”

Phos and Cinnabar looked at each other in pure amazement, then started to whisper to each other.

“I’m sure Antarcticite was the one who got Bort to do it, Bort has a ton of pride.”

“You clearly don’t know Antarc because when they think what they did was right they will never apologise.”

Phos noticed Bort and Antarc standing there awkwardly and pulled away, clearing their throat.

“Ahem. Cinnabar, should we accept their humble apology?”

“I believe we should.”

Bort sighed in relief. “Can we please get something to eat, those waffles are smelling really good right now.”

Antarc grabbed their wallet, “Yeah sure.”

(Houseki No Kuni Gift Exchange!)

“Hi Cinnabar~ Ready for Christmas break?”

“Yep! Ready to be done with school and finally try out that new action game.”

“You mean you haven’t tried it yet?”

Cinnabar looked at Phos in amusement. “We had like, four tests in the past week, where did you find time?” Cinnabar chuckled as Phos sputtered.

“Hi Cinnabar, hi Phos.”

“Good morning Dia,” Cinnabar greeted, Phos just waving as a reply.

“Where’s Antarc by the way?” asked Cinnabar.

“Something about making sure that the term-end project was the highest quality, they slept over at Bort’s place.” Phos grinned, “Isn’t a ‘class project’ the oldest excuse in the book for hanging out with someone?”

Cinnabar shrugged, “Hey, knowing those two they probably spent all that time actually doing the project.”

Right on cue Bort and Antarc arrived, panda-eyed and bickering as usual.

“Oh Phos, good to see you made it to school on time, hi Cinnabar.” Cinnabar waved and Phos greeted them back.

“Remember the rules,” reminded Bort.

“No flirting at the desk. We weren’t flirting though,” Cinnabar defended.

“Yeah, we were just wondering if you guys managed to complete your project.”

Bort and Antarc looked at each other, “Well we did, at 5am.”

“Who was it who wanted to add the history of it on top of everything?”

The two started bickering yet again, with Phos just shaking their head in mock disapproval and Cinnabar laughing.

“Those two just go into their own world don’t they.”

“Yep. Hey I came up with an experiment!”

“You and experiments. What is it?”

“Experiments are the only fun part of science okay? Anyway,” Phos took Cinnabar’s neck in their hands and they both kissed, deep and long with the warmness seeping in, enveloping both of them in a cosy feeling. When they were devoid of oxygen they broke apart, gasping for breath, simultaneously turning around to check for reactions.

“Aaaaaaand they’re still bickering.”

“If they didn’t notice that then they are definitely whipped.”

“Phos?”

“Hm?”

“I love you.”

“I love you even more.”

#housekinoexchange #cinnaphos #phosphophylitte #cinnabar #hnk #Antarcticite #Bortz #bort #I stayed up until midnight writing this #sorry there's a lot of angst but I added as much fluff as I could!#implied antarcbort

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insfiringyou · 5 years

Text

Becoming Exclusive (Suga x Jeong-sun)

Set the day following the events of ‘Pillow Talk’ Yoongi and Jeong-sun go out to dinner and finally establish that they are wanting to give their relationship another try.

This is part of our ongoing story line in our headcanon universe & mentions several key events from Yoongi and Jeong-sun’s past relationship together which you may wish to read first.

To read each member & their girlfriend’s headcanon universe fics in order, follow the links here: RM / Jin / Suga / J-Hope / Jimin / V / Jungkook &

Our full masterlist can be found here

Rated content below the cut

PART ONE

He had not yet replied and the picture continued to glare back at her; her pink nipples cast in shadow by the outline of the phone. Jeong-sun sighed. Forgetting to set her alarm, the impromptu nap had lasted two hours and her head had started to throb a little from dehydration. It was only just past two o’clock, yet she suspected Yoongi would have seen the picture by now, even if his phone had been on silent when he left her apartment several hours before. There seemed to be a glimmer of hope and, without really thinking, she started typing out a message.

‘How is your roof?’

Hitting send, she realised she was subconsciously trying to push the image up in the message window and felt a wave of relief as the top half of her breasts in the photo disappeared upwards. She persevered. ‘Did they find anything interesting?’ Send. And then: ‘Were you thinking of selling up?’

The new text messages took over the screen, moving the embarrassing selfie out of view. Feeling a slight wave of relief wash over her now the picture was no longer starring her in the face, she slid off her bed and walked the short distance to the kitchen, flicking on the electric kettle to make tea. When she returned to her bedroom ten minutes later she noticed the notification light on her cell was flashing.

‘Fine. Not really. I was considering it.’

Not really knowing how to reply, she found herself sitting down on the edge of her bed as her mind replayed a scene from earlier that day; remembering the way he had grinned shyly to himself before pressing his lips against hers. Lost in thought, she almost jumped when the phone vibrated in her hand.

‘Are you free tomorrow afternoon?’

‘I have to go to the post office before it closes.’ She replied after a moment’s thought, giving his question time to sink in. It was true; her passport was due to expire and she couldn’t send off for a replacement until her old one had been shipped off to be checked.

His answer came back almost immediately. ‘Do you want to go for lunch afterwards?’

Her heart thumped in her chest. Nervously, she typed out her answer. ‘Is this a date?’

‘Yes.’

She bit her lip, trying to suppress the smile which threatened its way onto her lips before she realised she was alone. Her cheeks were warm and, more than likely, glowing pink. She adjusted the phone between her hands, steadying them to type a reply. ‘Where shall we meet?’

PART TWO

“Have you been here before?” Jeong-sun asked, tugging on the sleeve of her cream-coloured blouse a little anxiously as they peered in the window. The pub seemed a little out of place on the corner of the busy shopping street and was surprisingly quiet inside. She could spot a few couples through the window, seated on plush, leather seats, eating food which looked both familiar yet a little alien.

Yoongi shook his head gently. “No, I’ve walked past it a lot of times. It’s British themed.”

“Did you read good reviews?” She smirked, hiding her nerves behind a small, sarcastic smile, remembering his coffee house recommendation a few weeks before.

He let out a small laugh. “Something like that.” He turned to her. “I thought you might like a pint.”

She shrugged, trying to appear casual. "Well, I’m not at work until tomorrow afternoon.”

“Shall we go in?” He suggested, gesturing towards the glass door. He held it aside for her as they entered the dark, yet spacious room. The scent of gravy and pastry hit their nostrils as they headed automatically towards the wooden bar in front of them. A couple of customers were being served; having their pints of beer pulled by hand from the large taps above the counter.

“Do you want to find a table? I’ll get the drinks.” She offered.

Yoongi pointed towards a small table in one corner, suitably quiet and out of the way. “Over there?”

“Yeah. What are you having?”

“A Guinness.”

She nodded, joining the small line of people waiting to be served. She walked over to his table five minutes later, carefully bringing the drinks and setting them down. She had opted for larger; the liquid pale and crisp in contrast to the cloudy stout.

“Do you have any plans for tomorrow?” She asked curiously, setting herself down opposite him. The leather armchair whispered under her weight and she sank comfortably into its grasp.

“Not really.” He admitted, taking a sip of his drink. “I might do some writing.”

“Are you working on something?”

He nodded a little gingerly. It had been a while since he had spoken much about his work with another person. “A ballad...for a female vocalist.” He paused, meeting her gaze for the first time that afternoon with a smirk. “Do you want to do it?”

Her grin was automatic. “It wouldn’t sell very well.”

“I don’t need the money.” He murmured, his long fingers fiddling with the cardboard coaster which had been left on the table. A French brand of beer was advertised on one side and he slid it through hands a little restlessly.

She laughed a little, knowing he was joking but unable to let the suggestion drop. “You might get fired from the label. They’ll think someone is dying.”

He shrugged. “You’re not that bad. I’ve heard you sing before.”

Smirking, she picked up the oversized menu from the wooden stand at the edge of the table and flicked it open. “I’ve gotten worse.” She remarked before turning her attention to the list of options, frowning after a moment of reading. “What are spuds?”

“Potatoes.” He explained.

“Oh.” She looked at the menu for another minute before handing it over. “Do you want to have a look?”

He took it from her easily, his eyes roaming over the list of specials. “Did Yu-jin get the job?” He asked after a moment.

“She did. She said the interview went well.”

“Was she nervous?”

“Yeah. I gave her some Kalms.”

Yoongi flashed a grin as he set the menu back on the stand. “Staff discount.”

“Yeah.” Jeong-sun smiled, before remembering: “Is Hoseok out yet?”

He nodded. “Next month.” He thought for a moment before making the connection, realising why she had asked. “Does Yu-jin still write to him?”

“I think so.”

“Does she know he has a girlfriend?”

She frowned, trying to remember. “She hasn’t mentioned, I think they were just friends.” She paused before enquiring further, curious. “Is she nice?”

Yoongi nodded, unable to help the small smile which crept onto his lips. “She’s just like him.” He hesitated. “Except she’s a teacher.”

Jeong-sun laughed openly at this, finding the connection between the two facts funny but glad that Yoongi seemed to approve; Hoseok was his best friend and she was glad he was happy for him.

“What grade?” She asked.

He shrugged. “I don’t remember. Little kids.”

Her smile remained but she couldn’t help but wonder, a little sadly. “Does she find it hard, with him away?”

She noticed his gaze drop. “I think we’ve all found it hard.”

She knew he was telling the truth as he said it and she felt her heart sink. “Are you going to do anything for him?” She asked gently.

“Like a party?” He looked up.

She nodded.

“I was thinking about it.” He murmured.

“If you do, I’d like to be there...if that’s okay.” She asked slowly, a little hesitant.

He was silent for a second before replying, his voice soft. “I would have invited you anyway.”

Her heart thudded in her chest as he once more met her eyes. Although Hoseok had been vaguely aware of them as a couple during their time together, Yoongi had never specifically asked her to join him at a party or event. Their meetings in public had often been the result of a happy coincidence or subtle hinting on each of their parts that they hoped the other would be there.

She took a deep breath, trying to hide the tremor in her voice with a smirk. “Does that mean we’re exclusive?”

He grinned shyly, his gums flashing momentarily as his eyes flickered timidly to the wooden table in front of them. “I wasn’t planning on dating anyone else, were you?”

She smiled, her body relaxing a little at his reply. “No.”

He let out a small exhalation of laughter as he looked up, reaching slowly across the table to take her hand in his. It was warm beneath his fingers as he slid his digits between hers, caressing her with his thumb. They remained this way, in content and comfortable silence until the waiter walked over almost a minute later, notepad in hand ready to take their order. They broke apart politely as Jeong-sun reached for the menu.

“I’d like...” Reluctant to risk mis-pronouncing the English words on the menu, she pointed to an item half-way down the first page. The waiter nodded before turning to Yoongi who seemed to have no problems with the language. The waiter gathered the menu and left them to their privacy.

A small chime from Yoongi’s pocket brought his attention to his phone and he read the text message easily, slipping it from his jeans. The sight inadvertently made Jeong-sun want to shrink further into her chair as she remembered the events from the day before.

“I was hoping you might not see it.” She murmured cryptically as he once more pocketed the device.

“What?”

Her cheeks were pink. “The picture.”

“Oh.” Yoongi smiled carefully. “I thought you’d be hacked.” He joked.

Her expression twisted, clearly embarrassed but needing to get it off her chest. “I don’t know what made me do it.”

He shook his head gently, his voice soft. “It’s okay. I deleted it.”

She had not expected his answer and it filled her with an unprecedented amount of relief. “It wasn’t the best angle.” She said, only half-joking as she remembered the speed in which she had took it. Looking at him now, in his beautifully fitted ripped jeans and black sweater, the thought of him being able to look at such an unflattering image at any time filled her with dread. His reply, however, made her heart flutter.

“I didn’t notice.” He shrugged, voice sincere and indifferent. Her stomach grew warm at the casualness of his reply; it had always amazed her how he seemingly found her so attractive, especially during times when he had no real reason to. He pressed on. “It caught me a bit off guard. The surveyor had just arrived.”

Glad for the slight change in direction, she went with it. “How did it go?”

“I don’t know, I was a bit distracted.”

She laughed, face glowing. “Sorry.”

He grinned in reply, leaning back slightly in his chair as the waiter came over with their food. He had opted for a whisky-glazed steak while she ate an oversized bowl of beef stew and dumplings. They tucked in quietly, enjoying the new flavours in silence.

After a while, in-between spoonfuls of food, Jeong-sun spoke up. “This is nice...”

“I know.” Yoongi murmured, casting a glance over her stew. “I tried something like it in the UK.”

She smiled softly. “No. I meant being out together.” He looked up at the gentleness of her voice, his brown eyes meeting hers. “We didn’t get the chance to do this much... before.”

Yoongi sighed, putting down his fork as he washed down the last mouthful of steak with Guinness.“We never had much free time together did we?”

As if proving his point, a familiar jingle rang out and Jeong-sun dropped her spoon, a little clumsily, into the bowl of half-finished food as she fumbled in her trouser pocket for her cell. Yoongi’ recognised the ringtone and felt the knowing pang of disappointment within him when she checked the screen.

“You’re more busy than I am these days.” He murmured, trying not to sound too saddened at the prospect of their date being interrupted.

Jeong-sun squinted a little to read the name on screen; she had left her glasses at home, before swiping left. She quickly slid the phone back into the pocket of her smart, black trousers. “It can wait.” She said.

PART THREE

Not wanting to part from him, Jeong-sun agreed on going with him back to his apartment following the date and, despite their years apart, found the feel and scent of it comfortingly familiar. Following him into the living room, she did notice a few changes.

“This is new...” She pointed to the sheepskin rug which covered the bare stretch of flooring near the television.

He shrugged, walking around the glass coffee table to perch on the sofa. “I was trying to make the place look a bit more lived in.” Looking up, he waited for her to join him. “I didn’t used to spend much time here, unless I was with you.”

She considered this for a moment, hovering by the doorway. “Do you still have your piano?”

“I got a new one. The other seemed a bit pretentious.” He answered honestly. The baby grand had never really felt right in his small studio space; the simple, wooden one he had replaced it with felt much more at home.

“What did you do with it?” She asked curiously, her mind inadvertently flashing back to the last time she had seen it and to the act they had performed pressed against it. Her face had grown a little hot as she wondered whether him getting rid of it had anything to do with the memory of her.

“I donated it to a university. It seemed better suited there.”

It made sense but the blush remained. “Can I use the bathroom?” She murmured. She had been needing to pee since they left the pub; beer always had that effect on her, but she was also craving a minute alone to contemplate the fact she was back in his apartment and to reflect on the confirmation he had given just before lunch.

He gums flashed briefly in a smile at her question. “I won’t stop you.”

She left the room, her legs automatically carrying her down the hall to the guest bathroom she remembered being there. She had barely used it during their time together, always preferring the cosy en-suite attached to his bedroom, but it felt too soon to go there now.

In the living room and feeling restless, Yoongi reached for the remote control on the table and turned on the large-screened television, automatically pushing the button to turn down the volume. He left it on the channel that was playing and watched as a police car gave chase to a group of suspected drug sellers. The reality show was one he was familiar with; since coming out of the military he had found the easy-lull of daytime television strangely comforting when he was home alone with too much to think about.

Jeong-sun walked into the room a moment later, smiling softly as she walked around the table to join him on the sofa. “You got a tub.”

His watched her as she sat down. “I’ve been enjoying baths recently.” He explained as she nestled against him. Without thinking, his hand moved around her lower back, holding her to his side. The slightly-rough feel of her textured blouse against his wrist made him realise and he held his breath for a moment, waiting to see if she would move away. While they had gotten more intimate than this just two evenings before, the stream of afternoon light drifting through the gap in the curtains made him more self-aware than he had been in bed with her. If his move surprised her, however, she didn’t show it.

“I wish I had room for one.” She murmured with a small sigh.

“If you’re ever in the neighbourhood, you’re welcome to use mine.” He replied, his offer genuine.

Smiling, she mumbled an agreement before the wail of a police siren on the television caught her attention as the show began to play its final credits. “Do you watch this often?” She asked with a grin, recognising the programme immediately.

Her body moved with his as he shrugged and her smile widened.

“You must be bored these days.” She said as the commercial break started.

“I’ve got too much spare time on my hands.” He agreed. Turning his head towards her, he noticed the subtle scent of perfume on her skin and hair. It was different to what she usually wore, a cool-smelling vanilla and passion-fruit concoction, surprisingly unfamiliar but comforting at the same time. He subconsciously tucked his arm more tightly around her, their shoulders touching as they cuddled casually.

“I’ve not seen this one yet.” She smirked as the opening scenes of a new reality programme, set in the A&E department of a Seoul hospital, started. A man, with his face anonymously blurred out to protect his identity, approached the desk with a rather unusual problem. Jeong-sun smirked, turning to Yoongi. “Hae-won watches it all the time.”

They were transfixed as they watched the man enter the X-Ray room with a doctor. The following scene showed the cause of the man’s distress and his tense, unusual walk, as the results of the X-Ray were shown. Yoongi squinted at the screen, trying to work out the shape in the man’s rectum. “Is that a Transformer?” He asked in disbelief.

Jeong-sun shrugged with a timid grin. “I think so.”

“How do you think he got it up there?” His voice was slightly baffled, making her laugh out loud, her warm voice filling the cosy room.

She shrugged against him. “Your guess is as good as mine.”

There was a moment of silence as they watched the doctor’s diagnosis with amusement. “At least if you become a nurse you’ll be well prepared.” Yoongi murmured, moving his hand to gently squeeze her upper arm.

She turned to look at him, her eyes meeting his properly for the first time that afternoon, since lunch, their faces close together. “I didn’t say I was becoming a nurse.” She said, a little defensively. The unexpected tone of her voice would have usually made him proceed with caution when thinking through his reply. Instead, he pressed on gently, moving one palm to rest comfortably on her upper thigh, against the black fabric of her smart trousers.

“I know you want to.”

Her jaw tensed for a moment, before letting it relax, giving in. “I was just looking into it.” She protested unconvincingly.

He fought the urge to disagree. “You’d be good.” He shrugged, letting it drop.

She peered at him doubtfully. “You don’t know that.”

“You’re really calm.” He explained, his gaze falling to his palm as he rubbed her thigh gently in circular movements, his body twisting towards her. “If I was your patient I’d feel really safe with you.” He looked up, meeting her brown eyes. She was still for a moment, expression softening as she realised the sincerity in his voice.

“That’s a nice thing to say.” She admitted, turning her body back to the television and wrapping her arm around Yoongi’s back, snuggling into him. The doctor on the screen showed the successfully removed toy.

“Oh look...they got it out.” Jeong-sun commented, pointing absently to the screen. Yoongi laughed, his stomach growing warm with his feelings for her in that moment. He pressed his lips to the side of her head, kissing her warm hair with a smile as she shifted comfortably against him, their faces inches apart. A moment passed between them, their eyes roaming slowing over each other’s features before Yoongi moved forward to kiss her temple, his lips closed as he trailed them along her face; against her right cheek before meeting the corner of her mouth. Moving her head slowly, she met his lips, kissing him softly. The taste of him, familiar and comforting, filled her with warmth as her heart jack-hammered in her chest. Her palm moved to the front of his sweater, pressing it flat to where she approximated his own heart would be. Sure enough, she could feel its quickening vibration beneath her fingertips as they sank into each other’s touch, his fingers caressing her cheekbone delicately as he pushed a stray strand of hair back from her face. She felt a little light headed and giggly, smiling against his lips as they shifted slowly, making themselves more comfortable as his spare hand un-tucked a corner of her blouse from her trousers to touch the bare skin beneath.

She wondered, bemusedly, how close she had come to never seeing him again. Subconsciously, she was aware that her reasons were justified and he too understood why she had done it. But she realised, as he pulled away to slide his sweater over his head and revealed his thin white t-shirt, that she had never felt this way with anyone else and she would never be able to let him go again. With a slight tremor, she touched his chest once more, feeling his uncharacteristic warmth radiating through the fabric. The sensation of his heartbeat against her hand was incredibly intimate and, realising what she was doing, Yoongi clasped his hand flat over hers, allowing her...welcoming her to feel its hum. He had nothing to hide.

She could not guess how long they had been kissing; each loving touch of his lips against hers filled her with butterflies and she couldn’t grow tired of the slow, unhurried pace they set as they enjoyed each other. Eventually, she felt him reach behind her to adjust a few cushions, breaking their embrace briefly to encourage her to lie down. She shifted against the soft fabric, shuffling her hips and arse to get comfy as Yoongi snuggled against her, resting his head against the soft cushion of her breasts as he touched her chin lightly with his knuckle, tilting her head to press a final, soft kiss to her lips.

Moving away, he caressed her covered stomach gently with his palm as he settled against her, the textured fabric and line of black buttons uncomfortable and awkward against his cheek. Moving slowly in order to give her time to protest, he began to undo the top set of buttons, his fingers pulling the fabric gently away from her cleavage, careful not to expose too much of her lacy black bra, before nestling his head between her soft breasts.

“Better?” She asked with a smirk.

He nodded against her, his cheek pressed against her smooth skin, just above the trim of fabric. “Why do they have to make them so pointy?” He complained.

“The buttons?”

He murmured in agreement, his voice low and purry as he made himself comfortable.

She laughed softly. “I don’t think the designers had this in mind.”

The television continued to play softly as the A&E programme made way for an all-female panel show. They watched it absently at the light outside started to darken, content just to cuddle lazily in silence, sharing their warmth. They drifted off at some point, with Jeong-sun waking up first. She wasn’t sure how long she had been out, the automatic timer on the television had turned it off, and she laid in silence, vaguely needing to pee again but too comfortable to wake up Yoongi. She watched him as he inhaled and exhaled slowly, his long eyelashes brushing his pale cheeks as he slept, and observed how, for the first time in a very long while, she felt truly happy. Eventually, she felt him stir against her and, moments later, he opened his eyes, automatically checking his Rolex for the time. Realising he had been asleep, he smiled shyly, his cheeks warm and pink as he shuffled against her.

“Do you want me to leave?” Jeong-sun asked, knowing it was late.

“No.”

She hesitated before asking. “Can I stay?”

He adjusted his head to look up at her, the angle a little awkward. His expression was soft beneath his bangs. “I was hoping you would.”

“I don’t have anything to wear.” She murmured as he settled back against her breasts, adjusting the edge of the fabric a little to get more comfy.

“You can borrow something of mine.”

“Can I have a bath?” She asked. Yoongi noticed an apprehensive edge to her voice.

“Yeah.” He agreed easily.

She hesitated before speaking, her voice a little shaky. He heard the increase in her heart-rate through his ear, pressed against her chest. “Do you want to join me?”

He paused, his stomach fluttering pleasantly. Running his tongue briefly over his dried lips, he didn’t try to hide the nervous tremor in his own voice as it cracked slightly. “I’d like that.”

Matter settled, they once more fell into a comfortable silence as her pulse eventually slowed.

After a few minutes he spoke up. “Are you thirsty?”

“Do you have tea?” She asked.

“The bags might be a bit stale. I got them for Hoseok.” He smiled at the memory shortly before his enlistment of accommodating Hoseok and Nana for dinner, finding the recipe for a vegetarian pasta-bake online.

“I’m sure they’re fine.” She reassured. She sighed a little at the loss of his comfortable weight as he slid off her; his body was a little stiff and grouchy from remaining still for so long. She sat up on the sofa as he trailed out of the room, returning a few minutes later clutching two steaming mugs.

“Do you want the T.V back on?” He asked, sitting back beside her.

“It’s fine.” She clutched the warm mug between her hands and blew on the surface of the liquid, inhaling its comforting scent. She observed the little string sticking out of Yoongi’s own mug and smiled, knowing he had never been much of a tea drinker. “Do you think you’ll be performing again, once everyone’s out?” She asked, breaking the silence.

“I don’t think my body could cope.” He laughed a little breathily. It was meant to sound like a joke but she thought she heard a hint of truth behind the sound.

“Maybe you should stick to ballads.” She teased.

He shrugged easily, picking up his own mug. “I prefer writing these days.” He hesitated before taking a small sip from the brim and setting it back down. “I’d never say never.”

“The fans will be upset.” She commented, pressing her mug to her lips.

He was silent for a moment, contemplating this. “There’ll be someone to take our place.” He said. Jeong-sun anticipated a tone of sadness in his voice but found none as he continued. “It feels right that we slow down for a while. It doesn’t feel as important as it used to.”

“How come?” She gently probed, setting her cup down absently as she twisted her lower body on the sofa to face him..

“My priorities have changed.” His gaze remained fixed on his lap but he reached out for her hand, taking it in his. “I feel I missed out on a lot.”

She was silent, thinking, her eyes on their connected hands.

“How’s the tea?” He asked.

She ignored his question, wanting to vocalise what she was thinking. “I know how you feel...” She said sadly. “Spread thin.”

He paused before sighing, brushing his thumb gently over her thumb. “I don’t want to add any pressure to that.” He shook his head, knowing as he said it that, despite what he wanted, he needed to give her the option to put herself first or he would never forgive himself. “I know things weren’t perfect before.”

Her hand closed around his, warm and, given her job, surprisingly soft. “It feels right.” She reassured, much to his relief. “I think we needed some time apart.”

He murmured in agreement, despite himself. “It took me a while to see it.” He explained.

“You’re not sick of the sight of me?” Despite her attempts to sound playful, Yoongi thought he sensed a touch of doubt in her voice and, proving his next point, he looked up, straight at her.

“Not at all.” He grinned, meaning it with every ounce of his being.

She caught on to his sincerity but was unable to stop herself from being self-deprecating, feeling bashful. She smirked. “I’ve put on twenty pounds.”

Shaking his head, he leaned in to kiss her, his lips opening softly against hers before muttering: “You’re beautiful.” He felt her teeth press against his lips in response as she kissed him back.

“You’re not bad yourself.” She smiled as she pulled away.

He cupped her cheek gently, smoothing away another stray lock and tucking it behind her ear. “Did you want that bath now?” He asked gently.

“I’m nervous.” She confessed.

His heart thudded at her response but he was relieved to hear that she felt the same. “Me too.” He admitted. “We don’t have to rush anything.”

“Just a bath?” She asked, taking his other hand in her spare and holding them both to her lap.

“Just a bath.” He agreed, squeezing her hands reassuringly in return before she got to her feet.

“Just give me a second.” She whispered, flashing him a timid grin before heading off to the master bathroom down the hall. Yoongi waited for the sound of the door closing behind her before he stood up and went into his bedroom. Feeling restless, he stripped his bedding and placed it into the hamper, replacing it with a fresh set from his bottom draw along with an extra pillow from the cabinet. His phone pinged with a notification and he pulled it from his pocket, swiping the screen to read the text.

‘I can’t get the water hot’

He glanced automatically at the doorway, towards the bathroom. ‘Do you want me to come in?’ He typed.

‘Yeah.’

Despite her invitation, he wrapped his knuckles briefly against the door before he opened it.

“There’s a switch to turn on the boiler.” He murmured as she turned to face him, his eyes briefly flicking to her bare legs beneath the short towel she clutched around her body. Turning around before he could linger on the sight of her, he flipped the switch by the door.

“Oh.” She murmured, a little embarrassed. “I’ve never seen one like that.”

“It’s supposed to save energy.” He said drily, knowing she would approve. He walked past her towards the claw tub, the vessel already partially full with freezing cold water. Bending down to turn on the warm tap, he ran his hand under the faucet until he was satisfied the temperature had heated up. He could sense her hovering behind him a little awkwardly and straightened up, unexpectedly feeling his nerves returning at her closeness.

“Are you going to take your clothes off?” She asked.

“In a minute.” he murmured, allowing her to side-step him to reach for a opalescent glass bottle of bubble bath. He had won it in a company raffle some years before but never thought to throw it away. Instead, it looked decorate on the white-painted cabinet which housed toiletries and towels.

“Can I use this?” She asked, uncorking the glass stopper and raising it to her nose to smell.

“Go ahead...” He said as she poured it liberally under the running tap, watching as the water quickly turned to peony-scented foam. She replaced the cap and reached behind Yoongi to set it in the cabinet, her other hand still clutching the top of the white towel closed. Their bodies pressed closer as she straightened and he couldn’t help but kiss her. It soon turned a little heated as her skin glistened with moisture from the warm steam rising from the bath and her grip loosened, causing the towel to slip beneath her bare breasts.

“Oh.” He uttered, a little embarrassed as she broke from his lips to grasp the edge. His eyes automatically moved down at the change in movement, catching a glimpse of her pink nipples before averting his gaze. She didn’t have time to notice, busy adjusting the towel around her body and trying her best to cover her modesty. “Could you look away for a moment?” She requested, a little flustered.

He complied, turning his body away from her completely as she removed the towel, draping it on the rail by the sink and stepped into the warm bath. She turned off the tap as he slid off his t-shirt, his body facing away from her, and unbuckled his jeans. After requesting it from him, she wanted to allow him some privacy so distracted herself by swishing the water around a little to create more bubbles. Moments later, however, when he turned back to her completely nude, she found herself glancing at him, trying not to stare at the delicate angles of his body as he joined her in the tub, his hand cupped casually around his crotch to cover his most private area. Her eyes were drawn to the neat bush of black pubic hair which trailed above his hand and blended into the soft, wispy hairs below his bellybutton. He was beautiful.

“I’m glad it’s big enough for both of us.” She remarked once he had settled down, drawing his legs to the side to give her more room. Her own were raised slightly, subtly covering her pubic area from view.

“The company threw in the sink for free.” He smirked, nodding towards the modern looking basin.

“Well, that’s a bonus.” She laughed softly, the sound echoing around the tiles. She sensed that the odd change of direction the conversation had taken was mostly to break some of the tension between them. The water covered most of her breasts from view, but the fact she was naked in front of him for the first time in three years still felt like a big deal. “Did you install it yourself?” She asked, her mind thinking of how he had fixed her run-down boiler some weeks before.

“Not this time.” He paused. “Did you get anything for your birthday?”

She smiled. “My dad got me a gardening kit.”

“But you don’t have a garden.” He frowned, amused.

Rolling her eyes, she shifted her legs to get more comfortable and felt his own against them. “I think it’s a hint he wants me to buy a house.”

“Anything else?”

“The girls at work got me a hamper..mostly loose leaf tea and cookies.”

“I wanted to get you something.” He murmured regretfully, not noticing his own body relaxing until he felt her thigh against his foot. “I missed your birthday the first time.”

She shrugged easily, the movement causing her breasts to break the waterline, her nipples coming into view. Feeling more at ease with her body now the situation had started to lose its novelty, instead of returning to her previous position, she rested one elbow on the lip of the tub, exposing her right breast casually. “It’s fine. I’m hard to buy for.” She joked. “Do you have a sponge?”

He turned to the side, reaching out to the whitewashed cabinet to rummage through the folded towels that he could reach. He pulled away a navy washcloth. “I’ve only got this.” He offered it to her.

“I’m not fussy.” Taking it from him, she dipped it in the soapy water and began to trail it along her arms as he reached for a black bottle of shower gel placed on the cupboard, a little above his head. Unable to get it, he stood up carefully, the water sliding off his nude body as he twisted around to reach. Jeong-sun paused her movement to watch as he settled back down, his movements cautious in order to stop the bubbles from overflowing the sides. She grinned as he handed her the bottle and silently squirted the sandalwood and bergamot scented gel onto the cloth and began to lather up.

“You’re perfume was different today.” He commented, the smell of the product reminding him.

She murmured in agreement as she cleaned her neck. “I ran out of Black Opium. It’s Hypnose.”

“It suits you.”

She smiled, meeting his gaze. “Are you still wearing Invictus?”

“My brother keeps getting me it for Christmas. I don’t wear it often.” He shrugged as she held out the wet cloth in one hand and the shower gel in the other.

“Do you want this?” She offered.

“Thanks.” He took them from her and began to clean himself.

Jeong-sun took him up on the offer of wearing some of his clothes to bed and watched silently as he rummaged through his t-shirt draw. She knew he was seeking something oversized, big enough to fit her curves, and felt somewhat grateful when he handed her a shirt in a double extra-large. Other women, she contemplated as she slid it on, might have taken it as an insult, but she knew it would have been more embarrassing for him to give her his usual medium size and have the fabric bulge unattractively around her stomach and breasts.

“Where did you get this?” She asked curiously. The logo on the left breast was a brand she had never heard of.

“I don’t remember. Someone gave me it I think.” He shrugged casually.

“Can you set an alarm for tomorrow?”

“What time?” He reached for his phone on the bedside table.

“Ten.”

He fumbled with the device for a moment before placing it back on the wooden stand. Untucking the edge of his duvet, he slid between the sheets in his t-shirt and fresh set of boxers. She joined him a moment later; the familiar and distinctive scent of his sheets filling her with nostalgia as he placed his hand gently on her waist.

“Is it warm enough?” He asked gently, rubbing the fabric with his palm.

“I’m fine.” She touched her lips to his, running her hand along his bare arm. “Your skin’s always so cold.” She murmured against him, closing her eyes.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered against her lips, pecking her softly a couple of times and enjoying the warm smell of her skin. He had never noticed the scent of the shower gel on himself, but on her it was comforting and, if he was honest, a little sexy. He pressed against her again, wrapping his arms tightly around her torso and holding her close as they kissed. Despite temptation, they were both tired and kept their caresses light and tender, savouring the closeness of their bodies and the taste of their mouths as they met sweetly.

“When are you free next?” She asked, the bridge of her nose touching his as she clutched him to her, his chest and stomach flush against her own. She felt pleasantly nervous at the thought, a vague suspicion nagging in her tummy and rib-cage.

“Whenever you are...” He murmured, kissing her forehead gently. In that moment, she knew that whatever premonition had caused her to feel apprehensive, Yoongi was feeling it too.

“I’ll let you know.” She mumbled sleepily as she snuggled against his slowly warming body. He pressed his lips to her dark hair, nestling her against his chest as she fell asleep in his arms.

***

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smolbeandrabbles · 4 years

Text

Cruel Summer - Harold x Reader (Adore)

Author’s Note: So...! I decided to make a convoluted plot even MORE convoluted! And also bring back one of my favourite ideas with Phil, only make it a real affair this time

He deserves some love - because honestly, he’s a super sweet cinnamon roll 💜💙

Disclaimer: Adore characters / plot not mine but sometimes you do have to ask yourself questions, right? / Aha-! Look another song from ‘Lover’

* If you’ve seen the movie then I’ve changed some plot points around...

Premise: You’d been yearning for him for a long time... And this summer presents you with only your wildest dreams. Perhaps you both shouldn’t, but they deserve it...

Words: 3015

Warnings: Student/Teacher affair / Affairs in general / swearing / Sexual connotations

A/N: So... I tried to edit this on mobile and basically it deletes everything! So all that info you just read had to be re-written and I can’t remember what I said. So apologies you gotta put up with this second version instead! 😑 _______ Fever dream high In the quiet of the night You know that I caught it Killing me slow, out the window I'm always waiting for you to be waiting below Devils roll the dice, angels roll their eyes What doesn't kill me makes me want you more And it's new, the shape of your body, It's blue, the feeling I've got And it's a cruel summer It's cool, that's what I tell 'em, No rules, in breakable heaven but It's a cruel summer With you Said "I'm fine", but it wasn't true I don't wanna keep secrets just to keep you And I snuck in through the garden gate Every night that summer just to seal my fate And I screamed for whatever it's worth I love you, ain't that the worst thing you ever heard? ---

It was never supposed to be like this. But it was. An elaborate game within a game. An affair for the sake of having one??

He was the hot teacher you always got to fantasise about in the back of class, and that was all fine, in your head. But after semester you got to return home... and started dating his son. And you weren’t sure if you weren’t doing that because of him...

But the longer this relationship lasted, your fantasy began to calm down. You were nearly sure it was dying away, because Tom was sweet and you liked being with him. And you could look at Harold and smile and talk to him and not feel your heart beat stutter or… heat build in a way that made you bite your lip hard and tap your pen against your notebook so loud your friends often grabbed your hand to stop you… Tom made you feel like you were living that late teenage summer romance you were supposed to be in. Like you finally belonged in something with someone….

Until that all came crashing down. And Harold had been the one to find that out and come to you. He didn’t have to; but felt it was his responsibility. You were both being cheated on. But he was at a loss for what to do next. Straight divorce and back to Sydney? Your parents still lived here, there was less escape for you when it wasn’t term time... and you didn’t really want to leave them just yet. You were also confused as to why he would sit across from you and talk about this so late at night – seeking advice about something so complex from someone so young? You wondered if he might be thinking the same thing you were – or if that was because suddenly all those feelings came rushing back to you – like Tom was just a temporary distraction from the real thing. And this time they would show you no mercy.

It had been a small, not entirely innocent suggestion, if your respective significant others were having affairs - why not start one yourselves? At first that notion had horrified him - heck you were his student. Of course it would. And he was still a married man - you’d scoff at that because it clearly didn’t stop his wife. But once it was out there you couldn’t go back either; because if he rejected you you’d still have to sit in his classes all year. Added to that - in Sydney you were far away from both his family and yours. And you wondered if that was the factor to tip it. He could have you here and there. And in Sydney, away from campus it wouldn’t have to be one big secret. That escape across the country held the tantalizing prospect of sinful freedom. If Harold stayed faithful, like the kind of man he seemed like he was, then when he was in Sydney, he had no one. And when he was here... well, did he even have a wife anymore?

So, fantasy became reality. And it felt like the biggest immorality ever committed; but also the greatest decision you’d ever made. At every twist and turn it was who was going to catch you out? Your families? The faculty? Your friends? Soon enough the family part stopped being a care, because it’s not like anyone in his had a leg to stand on. And you started realising that Tom was a cover... and an excuse. If your parents asked, you could simply say you were spending time with him – you doubted they would mind, or get the idea to interrogate him. They got it; you were young, they did that kind of thing all the time at their age. Alas, if you were actually doing any of this with Tom… You would spend the day with your ‘boyfriend’ pretending everything was fine (both of you living the sham that this was still real; but also believing the other was none the wiser) and then in the evenings both of you would sneak off and slip into your other lives.

It made dinner at their house interesting. If people could read thoughts... If everyone sitting here had to be honest just once… Well, everyone around that table was cheating on someone with someone else - it just so happened that two of you around the table were together. And when Ian and Lil sometimes came around too and all 6 of you were there. Wow... Only then it was strange, because Harold would act like a husband again, and Tom like a good boyfriend. And with arms all around the right people you knew it was likely the entire table was jealous.

Still. There was that one evening Tom went off for a walk, and Ros followed suit... leaving you two at the table semi-awkwardly. There was a good 5 minutes silence before anyone decided it was safe to speak. “If they had any idea.” You leant across the table, a quizzical expression on your face – they would have to walk to their own affairs. Yours was sitting right here. And you wondered how they didn’t think they were making things obvious. Or was that only because you knew. “Maybe they do and that’s why they left?” “How long do we have...?” You almost didn’t dare breathe the sentence for fear of footfalls back on those stairs. He gave a shrug “I wouldn’t expect Tom to be back until the morning... I still wouldn’t suggest the house... but the venue is up to you... Darling...” You rose from your chair and rounded him, small smirk on your face as you ran your fingers up his arm; savouring the gentle shiver you could feel over his skin, you bent low to whisper your choice – making sure your lips grazed his cheek before you stood and left… It was barely a mile, and minutes if he drove you… Harold could have you home and be back before either of them – nobody any the wiser…

What scared you a little about it was you’d never done this with Tom before... or anyone. And now you were here doing this you didn’t want anyone else... But it wasn’t supposed to last, there was no agreement. The arrangement was just a bit of fun to get even. No strings. No falling in love.

That was a stupid promise to make... How could you not completely fall for him? It was hard to think of anything else every moment you weren’t with him – it was hard to think of a time you’d ever wanted anyone so badly as you wanted him. It was even harder to imagine that anyone else would take care of you the way he did; maybe that was because he was so much older. That his son was your age… You weren’t sure. And you weren’t sure you wanted to find out. But at the end of the day (or in fact any part of the day where it was possible) there was no way you could feel as good as the feeling of being tangled up with him like this. There was a certain elation in something so sinful – but how could something that felt so good, and so right, be so wrong? What if it wasn’t? What if the universe was simply course correcting… How you would sigh like that against his lips at the feel of him inside you; how he fit just perfect. That couldn’t have been wrong, this couldn’t have been a mistake. Somehow everything had been twisted and messed up to lead to this moment in time. And maybe that’s where everyone was supposed to be. Except it made no sense… How could you have all supposed to have been liars and cheaters… and whatever the heck a bunch of teens-turning-twenty-somethings in relationships with adults twice their age were? What was wrong with all of you!? Trouble was you’d tried to have a long hard look at yourself in the mirror. And you’d thought about stopping it. But why should Tom be allowed to get away with it? Often Harold would look at you and open his mouth and you thought he would say it; he seemed like he’d be the one to end it. When too far was really too far. But maybe no one could turn back now… You spent all of that long hot summer stealing everything; all those glances back to the house from the beach, where you could just about make him out checking you were all safe down here as tide came up. When Tom would kiss the salt from your shoulders and you wished it was Harold instead. Every spare moment of just ‘running into him’ when you knew Ros was at work and the boys were out surfing again, how you would just take walks with him that just bordered appropriate with the way your arms brushed – and when anyone would pass you’d talk overly loud about what you were hoping from for the next semester. How when it was clear no one would be around your fingers would link and you would bite your lips together and look away from him so he wouldn’t see how much he made you blush. That would make you too much like a kid… How you could steal so much more than that if you were just careful enough, you could all be in the same house and you could still get away with kissing him – that was the ultimate in risky and tactical – and you wondered if you both lived for the rush of that. How sometimes Harold would do things you would expect of the father of your boyfriend – like sometimes he’d put his arm around you, or hug you close and kiss your cheek as you left. And everyone else would see something appropriate. Oh no, not at all… There was never anything quick about the physical intimacy though. No 5 minutes here or there or in the back of a car… oh no. This was tactile, and you couldn’t count the number of times you’d woken up in his arms in a hotel room. Won’t they be worried? …Are you kidding? You think they’ll notice? What do you tell your parents? …I’m with Tom. …Hah… How many times one of you would sneak around the back of the others house – your parents had held a party and invited Tom’s family. Big mistake, your garden was secluded and couldn’t be seen from the house. You’d grown up here all your life, so you didn’t even need to worry about the glance back when he wandered down after you – just drag him to you by his belt and undo it – claiming his lips for your own and trying to ignore that gold band on his finger as he ran his hands over you and tangled them in your hair. And when you both arrived back at the party 30 minutes later and apparently no one noticed, that’s when you knew you were gonna get away with this. He watched you when you wended your way to their house from the coast with Tom, all the way back, and when Tom was preoccupied with carrying his board or talking to Ian you let your eyes linger on him too. And the way you would use that outdoor shower they had like you were on some kind of photoshoot; and you knew that every one of those glances that you sent his way were teasing; each one more than the next…. How he’d light his cigarette and take long slow drags, and you would move your hands over your body and sift them through your hair as the water cascaded over you. How you bit your lip and both of you were caught in a stare that meant the other couldn’t look away. And sometimes Harold forgot what buttons were and the breeze from the sea would catch his shirt – and you couldn’t help but try and keep your vocalizations quiet as that throb of desire did more than just run through your body. It screamed at you to run up there and undo the rest of those buttons for yourself. His little smirk told you he knew you were mentally undressing him, so you closed your eyes and pushed yourself back against the wall – and all you could see was Harold all over you and wish he really was. And that was a mental image that stayed with both of you, because when you opened your eyes again he was gone… and when you got home the first thing you did was turn your shower on again to finish that fantasy for yourself… And later that day you got to relive it all over again… ***

Eventually, the tension snapped - and you and Tom has a screaming match so loud the whole town probably heard it; “I’m in love with someone else-!” “Well it doesn’t even f**king matter-! I am too-!” “Yeah-! I f**king KNOW!!!” That hit hard, you could tell and Tom wanted to know how and when and then who... who was with you because he was with someone else?! But you walked away. Because you couldn’t even stand to look at the man you should be loving, when it was his father you really wanted. Not that Tom apparently wanted you anyway.

So for a few days you stayed at home. And your parents knew it was all about the breakup... As if this relationship had been all that real to begin with. And you were wallowing in your own self-pity and misery, and kicking yourself for almost not feeling how you were supposed to feel. You should be disgusted at yourself for what you were doing, you should have hated him for admitting he loved someone else. You should have been crying over the way you’d yelled at each other. Instead you were worried you didn’t have cover enough anymore to see Him. Trying to think of ways you could make up with Tom to have cover, that both of you could fake this relationship to be with who you wanted to be with. But he would ask who; and you got the feeling that hypocritically he wouldn’t like you cheating anyway. That bridge was burned. Why bother going to the house if you didn’t have a boyfriend there anymore? why be involved at all... Well, apart from Harold being your teacher... That should have been reason enough to stop though; and you had college email – and those questions should really be left to the semester itself. Using that as an excuse to knock on his door was weak at best; and it was starting to look like the only one you might have. But you craved him; you wanted his touch all over your skin. And when you weren’t lamenting about how you’d ruined your cover – you were locked in your room and creating that sensation for yourself. It was hardly the same though… And one evening you lay wide awake, staring at your ceiling. When even your music couldn’t send you into a bout of weird dreams, you came to a sickening realisation that had you sitting bolt upright to reach for your phone and dial a number you didn’t have. This was supposed to be no strings attached payback. It didn’t matter to either of you when and how it ended. But, it was no longer just an affair.

You summed up enough courage to do something even stupider than just reveal everything in a fight. And although you had left your house fine with a deep breath, your vision was blurring by the time you got to their house and tears were running down your face as you ascended the steps. It was too much, and it took you a great effort to reach that last step - by that time you were trying to catch your breath from your sobs and your chest hurt. Nothing worked, and it was getting hard to swallow the lump in your throat too.

Which means you must have looked a mess. You didn’t know who was in, but you could hear Tom and Ian calling to each other down on the beach, so you wouldn’t have to face your now ex. What the hell you were supposed to do if you stumbled into Ros you didn’t know. You hoped beyond hope that was a bridge you would never have to cross in such a state as this.

You padded towards the open door way, just trying to calm yourself down a little.

You didn’t even manage to make it all the way before Harold met you, curse your loud crying. Curse everything in the world right now, you wanted to run to him and hold him and have him run his hands through your hair as you cried, but you knew that wasn’t possible. So you stood on his balcony crying as he watched you with heartbreaking concern. “Sweetheart, Tom isn’t here...” You shook your head violently “I’m not here for Tom...” “Oh...?” He stepped out but you took a step back, you took as deep a breath as you could manage but the tears still ran. “Why are you here Y/N... what’s wrong...” There was fear in your eyes, fear that heightened the same response as him. Because there was honestly mixed too that he knew was about to hit hard Your voice waivered, and you knew how weak and pathetic you sounded, but you had no choice – your body, your heart, your minded compelled you; “I need to tell you something.” “What is it, darling...?” He took another step that you didn’t concede, and he watched fresh droplets rolled down your face. You held your nerve, and his gaze. You couldn’t take hiding this... And knew you were about to tear everything else apart.

“I love you.”

---

@dennismitchell @happyskywhale @wltz-bby

#MendoTagSquad.

#This song got stolen from Dave. I'm not even going to lie about that.#Basically Mendos were stealing songs from each other all weekend and I was a little torn - luckily Travis Denning saved me!#Still. Used to be Dave's. Probably will still be used.#/hums/ I'll see yooooooou in part twwwwwwwwwo #Ben Mendelsohn #Adore #Harold #Laina #89 #25 and counting #I dunno if he's an affair type but he is now...!#Also my favourite kinda cliffhanger!

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smallfrenchstudyblr · 4 years

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Hi, I was wondering if you can break down what ontology is? Someone asked me what my ontological position is and my mind went blank??? I read up on it and I understand it but I'm still confused about how to answer the question yknow? Thank you!!

(I literally had to write this entire thing twice because I suck and had inadvertently deleted everything).

Thank you for this question, which my nerdy brain is enjoying way too much ! Keep in mind that I am self-taught in ontology and epistemology, so maybe take all this with a grain of salt.

So ontology is the field of philosophy answering the question “What is?”, as in “What is actually this thing called reality?”, “What does is mean, for something to be?”. Which sounds... broad and vague, because it is, so we will narrow it down to ontology for the philosophy of (social) science. Let me walk you through that.

So you want to research a thing. A sociological phenomenon. Great. But before you jump to wondering how you will research the thing (that would be epistemology), take a second to wonder : What is even this thing ? Does it ... exist ? Objectively ? Maybe there are different ways to experience the thing, no? Or maybe the thing is super tied with the way people experience it, to the point where... the thing is the way people experience it ?

So there are two categories (or really, two ends to a more nuanced spectrum) of answers :

Positivists/Realists : The thing exists, outside of anyone experiencing it. It is there, not matter who experiences is it, who describes it, it does not matter, the thing is singular, there is one single truth !

Example : the position of a Court on an issue, the number of people dying from AIDS, public spending on education.

Idealists / constructionists : The thing exists... sure... but it is not a singular thing. It exists only inasmuch as it is experienced by people, and there are differences in these experiences, and they are all valid and true ! Multiple truths !!

Example : The agency of marginalized group (Hi @memoirsofagradstudent !), bullying in the workplace, acquisition of skills by street-connected children.

And obviously, these answers lead to pretty different mindset when it comes to how you then conduct research. Because researching “the truth”, means that there is a single thing to research, and you get to claim that you have the one unique explanation for the one unique truth (kind of). But researching “multiple truths” means that you don’t get to do that, you only ever explain some possible realities of a subjective concept ! And you don’t use the same methods, if you want to explore all the lived realities of the thing !

And here is the challenge, in social science : it’s... not often cut and dry, where a research project should fit. Evem the examples I gave could easily be questionned. Wanting to make very bold claims tend to make researchers implicitly (unconsciously?) go for a positivist ontology, but Goertz and Mahoney (2012), to take them because I really like their work, point out that... “democracy”, “terrorism” are thing that not necessarily objective single realities, as much as social experiences in and of themselves, so you can’t just... “objectively” study/measure democracy. I would argue that “power” or “hierarchy” is the same. Even “migration” is questionable in that sense : a same person can see themselves not to be a migrant sociologically and yet be considered by others to be migrant, and vice versa !

Now, the good news is that you have to, as a person, take a strong ontological stance. I mean, I know people who are ride or die for positivism and others who only swear by constructionism and that’s fine if it fits what they do! But questions of ontology are infinite holes of endless philosophical questioning and arguing and... as some point, we might want to... you know... do some researching.

But it is important in my humble (and limitedly informed) opinion to know where your research stands (or, as you put it, what is your ontological position for this project!). Ask yourself if you are researching something that objectively exists regardless of who experiences it, or how ; or if the very thing you research exists only through the experience of itself by other persons. For some research, where they stand ontologically is going to be fundamental (or... should be anyway...), and the ontological position must be clear and justified. For others... not so much, either because it is not super relevant to the project since it doesn’t rock the boat methdologically, or the answer is kind of obvious.

I think if you are not sure where your research stands, you could raise that with your supervisor, or other people at your department, and see what they say ! Sometimes, questions about the ontology can be just nitpicky academic jargon, but sometimes it can be very relevant, and make your research even more coherent ! In any case, maybe check out what was written in your specific field regarding the ontology of research, and really, really want to encourage you to take Gerber Moerman’s course on Qualitative Methods on Coursera (it’s free !). The first two “weeks” (About 130 minutes in total?) are a fantastic overview of questions of ontology and epistemology in social science (mainly ethnology, but as a political scientist, it was still super relevant!). He is a better teacher and pedagogue than I could ever wish to be, so if my explanation was not clear, take two hours to head over there.

TL;DR : Ontology is wondering “Does the thing even exist, like, as a single real thing?”. Some say yes, some say no. Know where your research fits, kind of, because it matters for how you will conduct your research. No use obsessing over it, we tried to answer the question definitively since Aristoteles and so far we still can’t all agree, and... that’s surprisingly fine.

Ref :

Goertz, G., & Mahoney, J. (2012). Concepts and measurement: Ontology and epistemology. Social Science Information, 51(2), 205–216. https://doi.org/10.1177/0539018412437108

Moerman’s course : https://www.coursera.org/learn/qualitative-methods

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jackyjango · 5 years

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Dark Phoenix Review

I saw Dark Phoenix yesterday and I wanted to bank in my reactions until Saturday, because many more would have watched the film by then, but it turns out that I’m not very good at keeping my opinions to myself. I almost didn’t sleep the whole night (which isn’t healthy. lol)

So I’ll empty my guts here and leave it. You can read it now, or after you’ve watched the movie or not at all. Life’s full of options.

Oh, and 1 more thing, spoilers come free with my opinions

Who is that man in a wheelchair with a bald head and? They say he’s Charles Xavier. Listen, you want to portray Charles in grey shades, be my guest. Charles does have many dark qualities. He’s prideful, he’s manipulative, but one thing he’s not is selfish. He wouldn’t put his interests before the lives of someone he loves and cares. In fact, one of Charles’ greatest downfall is that he loves and cares too much. The man who practically drunk himself to death over Raven leaving him doesn’t shed a tear when she dies, instead gives a speech on what a hero she was.That, to me is not Charles Xavier. You get to see the real Charles Xavier only for the first 5 and last 15 minutes of the film, which is quite a tragedy in itself.

Jean making Charles walk up a flight of stairs while he pleads for her to stop was SO painful to watch. I can hate this movie for that scene alone. Using Charles’ disability against him is all kinds of screwed up.

The Helmet and the wheelchair has become symbolic of Erik and Charles in a way. I understand Jean destroying both of those is metaphorical and all, but they could have done it without putting Charles through that pain and humiliation.

I absolutely don’t understand Raven’s characterisation. Now, she’s suddenly the one to lecture about family (She’s not Mystique anymore). Wasn’t she the one giving speeches on how they’re not kids anymore and that they need to fight and not hide behind walls? And suddenly, they’re kids all over again? (They’re in their late twenties for fuck’s sake) The friction between her and Charles is really tiring.

Telling a little girl that she was responsible for her mother’s death and that her father didn’t want her because he thought that she was a freak is apparently the right thing to do. Brave XMCU! Blaming Charles for hiding that truth away and sending them on dangerous missions while he stays back is a low blow (He didn’t think about himself when he passed out using the cerebro, did he Raven? Is that dangerous enough for you!!?) Urghhh! I won’t even understand that trajectory, so fuck it. It pisses me off to no end.

As I expected, the friction between Charles and Hank is just baseless. Blaming Charles for Raven’s death (come on man, that was an ACCIDENT!!!) and running away to kill Jean was contradicting. Because Raven dies trying to save Jean and Hank now wants to do everything that Raven would have done? (Uhhhh? Where is the logic, exactly?)

I don’t know who wrote that scene where Hank forces Charles to admit that Raven’s death was his fault, because I’m sure I’ll tear that person to shreds if I meet them) ‘Come on, man. Admit it. Admit it to me right now!’ It’s not a juvenile version of ‘Truth or Dare’ where you force your friend to admit that they have a crush on someone.

Hank and Erik “bonding” over the fact they both loved Raven. You know what, I don’t even want to get started on that shit trail.

Why portray Charles as an almost-alcoholic? Was it really required? What did you want to show? That he’s drowning his sorrows and short comings in alcohol.? Well, in order to do that, you have to portray his sorrows first, you geniuses. It’s some shitty story telling.

Why bring in the storyline of Quicksilver being Mag’s son when you’re not going to broach the topic at all? Not once, not even in passing.

Hey, you know what? I’m terrible at writing dialogues. I write shit dialogues. But I thought that I could write better dialogues than who ever has written it in this movie. And if I can write better than them, just imagine how bad it is: In no universe I know would Charles say things like, ‘Yep’ and ‘Damn it man’. And in no universe would Erik say, ‘Save your ‘old friend’ shit Charles’. Listen, Erik might be a lot of things, but he isn’t the one to disrespect relationships. Above all else, Charles is the only meaningful relationship he has in his life (and need not be in a romantic way). He would in no way disrespect it. ‘So… yeah, I have killed people’ IS THAT THE BEST DIALOGUE YOU COULD HAVE COME UP WITH, YOU IDIOTS!? Bad dialogues are not new to the X-Men movies, but the actors have always pulled them off. Some of them in this are so bad that even James and Michael sound stupid saying it.

Some scenes are so bad that I don’t know whether to laugh or cry. Jean just taking off after Raven dies. That’s so uncharacteristic!! You would shoo away a dog better than how Erik sends Jean away from Genosha.’Go! Leave now!’ Really? I almost died out of second hand embarrassment.

The aliens feel SO WEIRD in an X-Men movie. I thought I could get used to the idea, but… no. Didn't happen. You simply cannot associate aliens with an X-Men movie. Avengers, sure. Just not an X-Men movie. It’s not a bad thing necessarily, just weird.

No matter what, I can’t root for Jean and Scott’s relationship in this. The chemistry just falls flat. They look more like brother and sister. And since their relationship plays an important role, that whole branch of that arc doesn't entice me at all.

The trope of ‘someone important in Erik’s life dying to turn him bad again’ isn’t cute the fourth time around.

I knew the ending even before I went to see the movie, so I knew that Charles would leave his school to Scott (as it is in the comics), and I was thrilled at the prospect of cherik being canon. While I’m thrilled for the cherik ending, I feel like Charles was almost forced out of his own school. Okay, he lied to Jean to protect her from the truth, so what, he’s not fit to be a teacher anymore? He’s not the same man who guided and gave you guys a home and showed you how to control your powers, you ungrateful shits? There should have been some sort of closure where Charles chooses to retire voluntarily and says goodbye before leaving.

Well, there ARE some really good aspects to the movie as well. It’s not completely bad. I really enjoyed it in many ways:

The movie is actually centred around Jean, start to end. It shows her struggling with her powers and the story doesn’t stray away from her, so that’s definitely done better than last stand, where Jean was just a fuming bulldozer. I also love how powerful they’ve portrayed her to be.

Genosha is really nice and I especially like Erik’s flat/container/living situation. It’s very rusty and cool. Suits him (I would like that very narrow single bed to turn into a double bed once Charles is there) I also loved Erik’s and Charles’ wardrobes. (Though I prefer Charles in cardigans, suits do him good)

I didn’t like the fight sequence in New York because there were too many unwanted things going on, but I did like the fight sequence in the train. Mags especially! AWESOME!!

All of them fighting together. That’s what I always wanted.

The music is really good. But that’s expected from Hans Zimmers.

These movies would have hit rock bottom if not for the actors. Sophie is AMAZING!! Everyone as well. But Sophie stands out.

The officers in the train scene who are transporting the x-men are called ‘Mutant Containment Unit’. In short, they have MCU (also known as Marvel Cinematic Universe) plastered on their uniforms. Erik telling them ‘you need us’ was brilliant. If it was intentionally put in there, it’s a stroke of genius, else it’s just luck.

There’s a scene in the train sequence where Erik protects Charles, Scott and Jean by closing the compartment they’re in with metal. I literally clapped my hands. Similar to what Sir Ian did it in ‘Days of Future Past’. Not as obvious and grandiose in gesture as the ‘X’ in XMA, but it’s enough to satisfy my little cherik heart.

I LOVED the chess proposal at the end!! And when Erik said, ‘You gave me a home once and I’d like to return the favour’ I think my heart exploded in my chest. If your OTP flirting with each other in the city of love while one proposes of moving in doesn’t make them canon, then I don’t know what does!!

In short, you’ll love the movie if you only love Jean Grey and Raven. If you love everyone else along with them, well…tough luck.

I said that I’ll be happy as long as they give me a cherik ending.

They did give me a cherik ending and all I want now is to read a fic where Charles and Erik are cuddled up on Erik’s very narrow bed while Erik re-assures Charles with kisses that nothing was his fault. (I’ve deleted the part where Charles loses his hair in XMA from my brain, so Charles still has his luscious locks intact in this fic I want to read)

It’s certainly a private joke to me that 19 years of X-Men ended with cherik being canon. The thing with X-Men, you can love it and hate it at the same time and somehow not get tired of it.

#dark phoenix #xmdp #cherik #spoilers #xmdp spoilers #i'm all for discussions when you watch the movie #but if you want to convince me that charles was wrong- don't even try #and that his characterisation is interesting or whatever they're calling it #don't even try because I won't get convinced #xmdp review #jackyj.txt

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szopenhauer · 4 years

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People do you live with - are they related to you? they are indeed

Have you ever had to have surgery before? What was this for? not yet

Are you listening to any music right now? What song is it? just finished, got tired/bored of it

Who did you last hug? When did this hug take place? Where? my mom, today, home

Who was the last person to play with your hair? Are they cute? my gf, yes

Do you enjoy shopping? Who do you usually go shopping with anyways? yes, mostly looking at stuff, dad

Are you afraid of thunderstorms? What exactly makes you afraid of them? nah

What color are the shutters on your house by the windows, if there are any? we don’t have shutters

Do you enjoy talking smack to those annoying telemarketers? Is it funny? I disconnect immediately

Do you need spellcheck in order to spell things correctly? usually not Do you do too many surveys? How many have you done today? yeah but it’s smth that keeps my mind occupied in those stressful times and I enjoy it for fun - you don’t have to read them if you don’t want to, let me do what I want to survive, I don’t need to explain myself actually as it’s my life Have you ever changed yourself to impress someone? I regret that Who was the last person you gave up on? Why did you give up on them? I gave up on almost everyone including myself Is there ink in your printer? not black, only color Have you been outside yet today? What were you doing? taking care of trash and dog What kind of games did you play on the playground when you were younger? many

Have you ever buried a time capsule with a friend? Did you dig it up yet? with my sister, it disappeared Do you remember the first time you ever drove a car? never happened Where did you get your favorite hoodie? it’s my sister’s old hoodie Are shoes under your bed? I don’t keep anything under my bed Have you ever been in handcuffs? *wink* not yet :P Have you ever had to be put to sleep at a hospital? I might for my gastroscopy someday because I have a strong gag reflex and there’s no other way :( When are you planning on moving out of your parents’ house? plan pfft... Are you a fan of dogs? small dogs Who was the last person in your family to graduate high school? Was it you? immediate family? it was me

What genre was the last song you listened to? dance/electronic I see… Did it have a male or female vocalist? female Have you watched any of your favourite TV shows today? Which? I haven’t watched any TV show today What colour is your make-up bag? I don’t use one Have you ever dyed your hair green? yep

What color was the first pet you had? green

Have you ever had fake nails? nope

What was your favorite year of high school? definitely not the last, probably first

Would you be more afraid of drowning or being buried alive? both include choking but drowning gives you a bigger chance of survival

Does your family own more than two houses? we’re too poor for that and owning more than one house is unfair in my opinion

Would you marry someone who could never have sex for medical reasons? I’m asexual, I don’t like/want/need sex so that’s cool

What about someone who was guaranteed to die in five years? anyone can die any moment so yes

Do you have any step parents? no

Do you know what year your mother was born in? I always forget

The person you would never want to meet? someone dangerous If you were a type of tree, what would you be? weeping willow or hollow/dead tree of some sort

Favorite age you’ve been so far? childhood in general I think You can press a button that will make any one person explode. Who would you blow up? maybe even myself?... If anyone could be your slave for a day, who would it be and what would they have to do? I don’t want a slave wtf You just found $100! How are you going to spend it? save it Are you a good kisser? am not Have you ever been admitted to the hospital?  several times Have you ever built a snowman? of course Do you prefer sunrises or sunsets? sunrises, even tho I’m not a morning person If you could breed two animals together to defy the laws of nature, what new animal would you create? dog + elephant Can you do any accents other than your own? not well What is the last thing you drew a picture of? not sure what was last

If the opportunity arose, would you ever go to a nude beach? Do you think you’d be comfortable enough, being naked among others like that? hell no, I wouldn’t be comfy enough to look at penises, gross! Have you ever considered keeping a dream journal? If you have one, have you ever looked back on it at all of the odd/interesting dreams you used to have? gonna burn it soon Do you think regifting is cheap, or is it okay? Have you ever regifted before? it’s ok, yeah

Do you like tablets or laptops more? laptops Have you ever had to “come out” to your parents about anything (sexual orientation, change in religion, etc.)? How did it go? yep, it didn’t went well but it could be way worse What’s the most unusual kind of pizza you’ve ever tried? nothing unusual Has there ever been a time where you thought you were going to be great friends with someone, but it just never happened? yep :( What’s one of your favorite things to touch/feel? hmm... How often do you wear tights? very rarely Why is your favorite TV show your favorite? I like many but my favs I chose basing on the impact on my life Describe your favorite picture of yourself, or post it. those funniest and with my dad too I guess Assuming you have a Facebook, if one of your friends posted things that annoyed you, would you be more likely to delete them as a friend, hide their statuses, or just put up with it? hide statuses but if they’re not close to me I might even kick them out of my friends list forever, definitely won’t just put up with it When was the last time you wore a sports bra? yesterday On a scale of 1-10, how anxious are you currently? 11 How is the weather? windy

If you were a pirate, what would your name be? Sam Bell or Robin Hood unless you ask me for a nickname then I’d have to think about it more

Would you rather go the short way slow, or take the long way fast if you got there in the same amount of time? doesn’t matter

Would you rather always be in a crowd, or be the only person on earth? only person

Do you squeeze the toothpaste from the top or the bottom? middle?

If you had to move out of this country, what country would you move to? Why? England or some scandinavian ones I believe

How many children do you want? Girls or boys? 0 but if any then 1 girl

If you had to lose one of your five senses, which one of them would you prefer to lose and why? smell because it’s hyper and I hate that

If you could live anywhere for one year, all expenses paid, where would you live? just my own apartment

What’s your favorite song to karaoke to? *shrug*

What takes you out of your comfort zone? life

If you were on the cover of a magazine, which one would it be and why? I want my apartment to be on a cover of an interior design magazine

If you could be laid to rest anywhere, where would it be? Why? next to my brother and/or my dad after his death

Pool side or beach? beach

What is your favorite primary color? yellow

What is your favorite brand of bottled water? I don’t care anymore If you were to write a story, what would it be about? already written some When was the last time you got out of your home? not counting going to my garden/yard - yesterday Do you like color pencils or crayons better? colored pencils Have you ever played Badminton? I liked to Would you ever consider running for president? nah What color is the sky right now? light blue Is March one of your favorite seasons? why not Do you write little reminders to yourself? shitload Would you want a pet iguana? I heard they commit suicide :x Exactly how many days have you been alive? 10,399 Do you know how to knit/crochet? a bit Do you enjoy windy days? I like the sound of wind and zephyr during the hottest days but that’s all

Do you believe that big goals are just as attainable as small ones? some to some

Have you ever deleted your Facebook, then brought it back? deleted and made new account

How many times a day do you change your clothes? depends

When was the last time you used spray paint? long time ago

What color are the chairs at your kitchen table? white

Do you believe that life only gets harder or easier? harder to me

Have you ever had sex with 2 different people in the same week? noooo

Are the doors of your fridge side by side or on top of one another? on top of one another

If you’ve moved out of the house you were born in, do you know the people who live in that house now? not applicable

do you sing to songs in the car when you are alone? I don’t drive so I’m never alone in the car

do you laugh at other people when they are alone in their car singing? it’s cute

the world will end in an hour. what do you do? send a cab for my dad if possible to bring him home

does the weirdest dream you have ever had involve your history teacher? that’s weirdly specific - no

how many christmas trees are in your home during the season? depends

ever told your date you were going to the bathroom and actually left? nope but if I was scared of them I could do that :o

what never fails to put you in a bad mood? ugh...

what is the first thing that comes to mind when i say green? plants

did you know that you hear/see something that relates to a monkey everyday? really? I don’t believe you

do you share a bed with anyone, or is it allll yours? it’s allll mine

are you from the north/south/west/east? personal

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