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#Am I talking about a very specific conversation that I had like months ago
heartbrokenshitpost · 2 years
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So I just had this really long thought to myself while walking out to the kitchen to get some cake about how like, social rules that just seem to automatically be applied to everyone are bullshit.
Like friend stuff and labels? Like why is it ok to have a best friend but when someone has more than one people get all weird about it? At least in my experience?
Like no thanks, I’m going to have as many as I want??? Why am I not allowed to call all these important and amazing and loving people in my life my best friends?
Having one really good friend shouldn’t invalidate the other really good friends that I made. It should just show that I’ve got really cool friends in my life and I want to tell them how cool and amazing I know they are and how much I love them by calling them my best friend. 
I don’t care if they want to only have one best friend, they don’t care if I have 50, so what’s the issue? I don’t see one.
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Mr. (Not so) Perfectly Fine
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AN: Not sure where this came from, but here we are. Maybe one day I'll write Josh in a non-toxic way lol. Also tagging Kai @lovelyhan because it's the law. I joked about writing a series of fics based on Taylor Swift songs. This fic isn't part of that idea. I just thought this title felt fitting (it's based off of a Taylor Swift song for anyone unaware).
Synopsis: Falling in love with Joshua was easy. It came to you easier than breathing. It's no wonder, then, that when he offers you a fraction of his affection after shattering your heart months ago, that you would grasp for it. Regardless of the consequences.
General tags and warnings: Joshua Hong x Fem! Reader, not super relevant to the plot but, this is a Non-Idol AU, exes to exes with benefits, elements of angst, Josh is emotionally constipated, Soonyoung and Seungkwan featuring as supportive but, tired friends, discussions around Reader having low self-esteem and being self-loathing at times, discussions around an unhealthy relationship and returning to it, alcohol and alcohol consumption, Seokmin featuring as a genuinely good guy who probably deserves better and discussions around jealousy and possessiveness on Josh's end.
Smut tags: mentions of throatfucking, mentions of piv sex with a condom (I know who am I?), mentions of a Daddy kink, it's implied that Josh is pretty self-centered (generally but, sexually more specifically) but, that does get remedied later, nipple play (f. receiving), Reader sucks on Josh's fingers, praise (f. receiving), implications of Reader being a bit of a masochist, Reader sits on Josh's face, overstimulation (f. receiving), pet names, dirty talk, begging, piv sex without a condom, marking (f. receiving), biting (f. receiving) and creampie.
Word count: 8514 (...I don't want to talk about it.)
I will block you if you are a minor and/or have no easily visible indication of your age on your blog if you interact with me in any way.
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The first time you found yourself at Joshua's doorstep was an innocuous Thursday evening. The sun had begun its descent on the horizon when you began the familiar route to his apartment building. You're not entirely sure what possessed you to knock on his front door, or what had possessed you to drive there to begin with. However, when he swung his door open, dressed in nothing but, a simple black shirt that clung a little too tightly to his broad chest and some grey sweats. Surprise colouring his handsome face, you knew it was too late to back away now.
To your shock, however, Josh had let you in without much question. Stepping aside wordlessly, you took the very obvious invitation. The sight of his living room was familiar in a way that churned the pit of your stomach. You weren't going to fall apart in his living room like the way you had when he broke up with you. You wouldn't allow yourself to. Wasn't it pathetic enough that you'd come grovelling back to him without much of a reason as to why? That you're likely about to have the most uncomfortable conversation that you've had in your entire life?
You're not sure what you'd expected from Joshua. He joined you on his couch, always too white for your liking but, didn't say anything. You weren't sure if he'd been waiting for you to explain why you're at his place after close to four months of next to zero contact.
Idiot. Of course he was.
"I," you start but, the words never seemed to find you. You focused on the pictures that decorated his wall. Choosing to look at anywhere that wasn't him at the risk of losing your already fickle train of thought. Pictures of him in suits with different friends and business partners. His work smile working overtime in all of them as he'd been showered with endless awards and promotions.
His work had always been the love of his life.
"You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to," were the first words he'd uttered to you in months. That had caused you to whip your head to face him. Reading Joshua was a skill you had never been able to master.
Master? You doubt you'd even be considered an amateur at it after a year of being with him.
His face betrayed little but, a barely there glimmer of understanding bled through that even you managed to catch. Understanding is an emotion you wouldn't typically associate with the someone like him. However, it flickers across his too handsome face nonetheless.
Perhaps you should've consulted an exorcist because before you know it, you're not sure what caused you to kiss him. You two have barely spoken, and there you were, gripping his shirt like a lifeline and kissing him on his stupid couch as the figures in his photographs act as spectators. You were going to apologise. You were going to erase him for good from your brain and dig a hole for yourself to crawl into.
But, then he'd kissed you back. His kiss, much like him, wasn't all passion and desperation. It was slow. Methodical. His soft lips refamiliarising themselves with your mouth once more gradually. As if he had all of the time in the world. Testing to see if this would be worth it. If you would be worth it.
Whatever he had been looking for during his exploration, he seemingly found because before you knew it, you found yourself amidst the sheets of his bed. Cool, navy blue sheets acting as a balm to your far too hot skin while his large hands mapped the expanse of your body. His heavy cock bruised the back of your throat before you found yourself arched for him with your face in one of his soft pillows and his long fingers in your hair. After months of no sex, specifically no sex with him, it took you a few long moments to adjust to the sting he provided.
From then, it was bliss.
His pillow muffling your whimpers and moans. Cries of 'Joshua' and 'Josh' and 'Daddy' were partially swallowed by the soft material. Your fingernails clawed at his sheets while he found relief in your body. His hips stuttered into you and filling the condom he had hurriedly put on, especially when the last title had hit his ears.
The two of you dressed in silence. The ruffling of your clothing and the sounds of the city all that you had to comfort you. When you stood on unsteady legs to leave, he hadn't walked you out. Not that you expected him to but, that didn't stop the sting from developing behind your eyes and your throat from growing tight.
Bliss was so, so easy to come back to. And come back, you did. You and Joshua still hadn't spoken all that much. Not putting any labels on... whatever tentative understanding the two of you had. You simply show up to his apartment, and he knows what you're here for. If you can't have him the way you want to, you'll have to settle for the way he needs you.
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Two weeks.
Two weeks is the longest time you've gone without knocking on Joshua's front door. You can't help the guilt that twists up inside you and shreds your insides. However, you know rationally that you have nothing to feel guilty about. Joshua isn't your boyfriend anymore. He hasn't been for six months now. The two of you simply find solace in each other's bodies. It has just been easier with him than expending your time and energy on trying to meet anyone. Especially with how little energy and time you have as it with work all but, drowning you.
However, as Seungkwan has tried to sear into your brain, this isn't exactly healthy. Letting yourself fall into his bed and come apart underneath him for the past three months is likely in your top five unwisest decisions you've made in adulthood.
But god, it's just so easy.
"You know you deserve better," Seungkwan stresses to you for the likely millionth time. His typically kind face marred with a frown that does not suit him in the slightest. His glass of wine left completely untouched on your coffee table with his arms cross over his chest. Soonyoung nods, taking a sip of his own wine before speaking, "He's a dick. He's pretty much been using you since the two of you started dating."
"That's not true," you protest, your wine sloshing dangerous before you simmer down a little. "Joshua has his....issues but, I don't think it's fair to say all he does is use me. I mean, I'm the one who showed up to his door after us being broken up," you argue, "If anything this is a mutual using of each other."
"Except you're in love with him," Seungkwan deadpans. Soonyoung once again nods in agreement. Traitor.
"I'm not in love-"
You promptly stop talking when both men shoot you looks. Your face warms and you hide in your glass of wine. The liquid pleasantly heating your veins and acting as a phenomenal distraction from the gazes of your friends that are far, far too piercing.
"We're just here because we're worried," Soonyoung says softly and you can't bare to look into his eyes right now. You're too scared to see what you'll find in them. You're not sure what's worse. The pity or the frustration from the two of them.
"If it makes you two feel any better, I haven't gone to him in two weeks," you respond weakly. Despising the knot that builds in your throat and the tears that burn your eyes. You feel no better than when you were in university crying to them about shitty hookups and even shittier exes.
"That's a great start," Seungkwan responds sounding genuinely happy. Genuinely proud of you. His warm, larger hand grabbing yours and rubbing soothing circles into your skin. "Also, I'm sorry. I know you're an adult and I don't want to come across like I'm scolding you but, it's really hard watching you go back to him and break your heart all over again."
Oh, the guilt is back. Different but, present all the same. At this point, it's become an ever present companion for you.
"I'm sorry too. I know it's not fair for me to put the two of you through this either," you whisper in response. You don't think you're capable of speaking any louder right now.
"Hey now!" Soonyoung butts in, grabbing you both by your shoulders and crushing you to his chest. Seungkwan, to everyone's shock, only protests minimally, "What are friends for? Now both of you stop being so gloomy. We're here to get tipsy on cheap wine, inhale all the carbs we can and watch bad movies. Get it together."
The laugh that Soonyoung forces from you is foreign and a little rough around the edges but, it's one of the few you've managed in longer than you care to think about. And if you cling to him more fiercely than usual, he has the grace not to mention it.
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It gets a little easier after that. You haven't found yourself knocking at Joshua's door for a good month now. Soonyoung seems ready to throw you a party over it and the same pity isn't as present in Seungkwan's gaze when the three of you find the time to catch up with each other.
Joshua never messages or calls you in the time you don't spend in his bed. You suppose you shouldn't be surprised. You're typically the one reaching out to him and making the journey to his apartment to experience a fraction of him. To bask in whatever he's willing to offer you.
You're not sure whether what you two have can be classed as affectionate. It was better than nothing, at least, you had supposed.
You still can't help the sparks of bitterness that fester in your system when you open up your chat with him. A simple 'Okay' from him being the last message in the conversation when you asked if you could come over. God, you were pathetic. Sad. Desperate.
Perhaps it's pettiness or spite or the resentment or maybe some part of you still wants his attention but, you send him a message before locking your phone for the night and turning away to face your windows. The voice in your head (that sounds suspiciously like Seungkwan) echoes that maybe that wasn't a good idea. Maybe allowing your anger to get the better of you wasn't wise. However, what's done is done. You just hope sleep finds you quicker than it has over the past two years.
You: I'm going on a date on Friday.
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Seokmin is a nice guy.
No, calling him nice isn't fair or true to the man's character. Nice is vague. Meaningless. A platitude at best.
Ever since Soonyoung very heavy handedly sent you his number in the hopes that you'd focus your attention elsewhere, you two had been speaking borderline nonstop for a week now. Him regaling you with the less glamorous aspects of being an actor and you venting to him about a particular unruly classroom. You'd learned that he cried easily and had a weakness for anything dogs related. He'd learned that you love musicals and random historical facts.
It was the first time in a long time Joshua had barely crossed your mind. He still had but, it was an improvement. A week wasn't realistic enough to completely be clean of him but, you were taking steps. Seokmin definitely made it less difficult.
So, when Seokmin, nervousness rolling off of him in waves even over text, had asked you on a date, it was a no-brainer that you'd agree without much question. You deserve a pleasant night out. It also certainly doesn't hurt that Seokmin is an Adonis of a man.
You honestly don't remember the last time you were giddy over a date. Over a man. Butterflies kicking up in a storm in your stomach when you agonise over what you should wear. The temptation to cancel springing up more times than you count with every drag of your hangers and article of clothing that adds to pile accumulating on your bedroom floor. Fortunately, you find a dress in the back of your wardrobe that clings to you in a way that balances attractive and formal masterfully.
Seokmin is somehow even more attractive in person. All the pictures you came across during your search across his social media accounts do not even begin to do him justice. He's funnier too. His tales of disastrous productions and poor costume fittings prompting laughter out of you the likes of which mostly Soonyoung and Seungkwan are able to. Before you know it, it's already been three hours, and your mostly plates and glasses remain largely untouched.
"I had a great time," Seokmin starts once you two are outside. Whether it's the breeze or his proximity to you, goosebumps rise on your skin. It doesn't help that his cologne infiltrates your senses and muddles your mind further. The butterflies have chosen now to make a reappearance as well.
"Me too," you reply, your cheeks hurting from how hard you've been smiling all night and now isn't any different. Seokmin looks for all the world that he wants you to kiss him. Kind, brown eyes fliting down to your lips in a way you assume he hopes is subtle but, it's not. Terribly so. It's cute though. He's cute. However, you think you're going to take it slower this time around. As infatuating as he is, you know you're in no place to be kissing anyone.
Before you can bring up a different topic to help cut some of the tension weighing on your chest, your phone vibrates in your hand. Alerting you that your Uber has arrived.
"Looks like my ride is here," you tell him with a disappointed turn of your lips. For all your reservations, you really wouldn't have minded spending some more time with the man who would put the sun to shame.
"Have a safe ride home. Text me when you get home, okay?" And his blinding smile spreads across his handsome face once more. You've only known Seokmin for a short period but, it feels freeing to talk to someone whose feelings you don't need to attempt to decipher. They're there and clear as day on his face and in his words. Or maybe you're projecting. That's possible.
"Will do. Text me when you get home too, okay?" You reply, steeling your resolve before pulling him in for a hug. Hugs are fine. Safe. At least a safer option than kissing. Seokmin happily returns the gesture and heat that you haven't felt in some time begins to simmer in the very pit of your stomach when you feel how solid he is.
Now is not the time.
"Of course. It was nice getting to finally meet you in person. Hopefully we can see each other again," Oh. The butterflies certainly feel strongly about that.
Untangling yourself from his built frame is unpleasant, and a deeply irrational part of you wants to continue to cling to him. You opt to shove it down. "Hopefully," you respond with a coy smile, "I'd like that." And you truly would.
Seokmin watches you enter your Uber. He watches you until he can no longer see the car, and the gesture brings a smile to your face so wide that it feels a little foreign. If the driver hears your dreamy sigh, they choose not to comment on it. Thoughts of the actor with perhaps the brightest smile you've ever seen in your life fill your mind all the way to your apartment. Seokmin is still occupying your thoughts as you greet the on duty security and enter the, thankfully, empty elevator. More people don't need to see you practically levitating over this man. Over one date.
The smile that's been stinging your cheeks drops from your face when you notice a figure lingering at your front door. You can tell even from this distance that it's Joshua. Your steps grow more hurried, the clinking of your heels echoing through the empty hall. You suppose you're grateful that none of your neighbours are out. You're not entirely sure how this is going to go based on the anger bubbling up inside of you at the sight of your ex-boyfriend.
Joshua turns his head at the sound of your heels and he has the nerve to smile. To look relieved. You beat him to the punch for once instead of allowing the very tentative wall you've meticulously been building since the last time you found yourself in his too cool bed to crumble.
"What're you doing here?"
The bite in your voice takes even you by surprise but, you're too tired and a touch too fed up to really care about potentially offending him. Your arms crossing over your rapidly rising and falling chest as anger courses through your veins.
For all your inability to typically read him, the surprise on his face is clear as day. You don't think you've ever seen him look this unsure, a nervous hand carding through his short, dark hair. Oh. He must have cut it in the time you haven't found yourself on his doorstep.
"Hi uh," he stutters in a way deeply unlike him, "Can we talk inside?"
A voice that sounds very much like Seungkwan screams to send him away. To cuss him out where he stood in your hall and send him back to his sterile apartment that you never quite seemed to fit into.
However, you've never been good at saying no to him.
"Fine," you spit, walking to your front door and unlocking it while he stood by just hovering. Admitly, beneath the frustration and anger and annoyance at seeing him again after what has felt like ages, a miniscule part of you is curious why he's here.
Joshua walks in after you easily. The same way he used to when the two of you were together. The knowledge simultaneously dulls and sharpens the knife that twists in your gut but, you push it aside. Maybe an actual conversation is far overdue so, you can finally be free of him. Your coworker Wonwoo likes to joke that closure is just an invention of fiction but, just maybe this is your chance to find a fraction of it.
He shuts the door behind him while you turn on the lights. You want nothing more than to kick off your heels, pour yourself a glass of wine and regale Soonyoung and Seungkwan with all the details of your night. Joshua sure has a knack for ruining your plans.
"So, what do you want to talk about?" You ask once you've gathered all of courage. Leaning against the back of your couch, waiting for him to explain himself. Ignoring the way your throat burns seeing him in your home again.
"How was your date?" Are not the words you were expecting and they throw you utterly for a loop.
"What?" You blurt out sounding completely flabbergasted, "Is that why you're here? Fucking seriously?" The anger that's been simmer under the surface grows in ferocity once you begin to piece together why he's here. Why he's decided to reinsert himself into your life.
"You're here because you're fucking jealous?"
He has the nerve to look affronted by the assertion, "I'm not jealous-" he starts but, you're beyond frustrated and annoyed right now. Seungkwan would be proud.
"Joshua, please. Then why are you here? Why are you asking about my fucking date? Because you want an update on my life? You haven't reached out to me in fucking months!" You exclaim and you just hope you're not loud enough for any of your neighbours to hear. Though your concerns around that are minimal as the object of your anger walks towards you tentatively.
"I know," he sighs, continuing to run a tired hand through what you assume was his meticulously styled hair, "Honestly, I'm not sure why I'm here. I'm sorry. I just- I just miss you, I think."
Soonyoung has always been fond of calling Joshua an asshole over the course of your relationship and even after its end, but, in this moment, you realise Josh is not just an asshole, he's cruel.
His admission renders you speechless. You probably look comical just staring at him as his words sink into your brain.
'I just- I just miss you.'
He continues on his cruel streak, your carefully constructed walls falling to pieces with every syllable that leaves his full lips, "When you sent me that text, it just felt so awful. I felt awful and I think I realised just how much I missed you. Missed having you around. So I just got in my car and drove here," he breathes out, nearly tripping over his words in a rush to get them out, "I think I'm starting to understand why you came to my place all those months ago," he laughs with very little humour.
You think this is perhaps the most vulnerable you've ever seen him. More than your first date. The first time you told him you loved him. The first time you two slept together. All of those moments could not ever hope to hold a candle to the unadulterated emotions stirring in his doe eyes right now.
"You really suck, you know that?" You respond, the watery quality of your voice not going unnoticed, "Just when I thought I could let you go and move on, you just had to come back and do all of this. Say all of this," you mutter tiredly, shutting your eyes to just have a moment to yourself to think. To breathe.
The press of his forehead against your own is startling but, and you won't ever admit it to anyone else, comforting. It just feels so good to allow yourself to melt into him. The familiar scent of his too expensive cologne infiltrating your senses and muddling your brain further. Your hands grasp the front of his shirt, a shuddering breath leaving your lips.
"I know. I'm sorry," he whispers, and he's just so close, and you remember how easy it was to fall in love with him. How easy it is to continue to fall into him every chance you can.
So you do.
Everything, every voice that sounds like a friend screaming at you that this is a horrible, stupid idea, that you've been doing well, are all silenced when you press your lips to his in a kiss that is more hesitant than anything else. He kisses you back fiercer than you anticipate. Than you're used to from him. Swallowing your startled gasp like it's the first thing he's consumed in days and cupping your face with his large hands. His teeth nip at your bottom lip briefly when a whimper falls from your lips from how aggressive he's being.
"This is my favourite dress of yours," he mutters into your mouth between kisses, the tender way his thumbs brush your face juxtaposing with his desire to seemingly consume you whole, "I've always thought you looked gorgeous in it. So beautiful. Sexy," he continues, one of his hands drifting to palm at the thickest part of your exposed thigh. Arousal pools in the pit of your stomach. The fact that it's been months since you've been with him, been with anyone, fully hitting your body based on how quickly you find yourself becoming wet and your thighs rub against one another.
"My beautiful girl," he whispers, not giving you enough time to process his words before his mouth descends on you again. His hand kneading your thigh in a way that could be considered desperate if this was anyone other than Josh, shoving the material of your dress higher.
Once you remember you can touch him too, your hands find themselves in his now shorter hair, the inky locks filling the gaps between your fingers easily and the groan he presses into your lips worsens the ache you feel at the apex of your thighs. You want him. You don't think you'll ever stop wanting but, seeing him lose his composure for once has your panties sticking to you in a way that grows uncomfortable fast.
"Bedroom," you whisper, maybe part of you is worried that if either of you speak too loudly you'll burst this bubble you've found yourselves in. Josh just nods, tugging you to wobbly feet and pushing you towards your bedroom. His mouth never leaving yours while his hands touch and feel and grope and paw at every part of you they can reach. You try to not think too hard about how this reminds you of the first time he spent the night here and, how easily he seems to remember where your room is.
Fortunately, it doesn't take the two of you long to bump against your bedroom door. Fumbling with it longer than necessary while being lost in each other. A breathless giggle from you fills the quiet space when he curses while struggling to shut it behind him. Your laughter doesn't last long. His lips pressing scorching kisses to your throat as you settle onto your bed. It's like he can't even go a few seconds without touching you somehow. The thoughts prompts your heart to thunder in your chest.
"Can I take this off?" He asks against the hollow of your throat, impatiently tugging on the straps of your dress. You nod quickly, shuddering when he runs his teeth along your pulse and you feel him lightly grinding against your thigh.
"I want you to use your words, baby," baby. He really will be your demise. You can't remember the last time he called you that and, it only further fogs up your mind.
"Yes, Joshie, please," you whimper, your fingernails biting into the muscles of his biceps. The veins on his forearms coupled with the way the muscles flex is just so hot that it feels just the slightest bit unfair. Briefly, you wonder if he wore a short sleeve shirt because he knows how just a little bit stupid his arms make you.
He stills over you. His lidded eyes widening in surprise and, that forces you out of your lust-filled daze. He beats you to it before you can question his change of demeanour.
"You called me Joshie," is all he says in explanation at first, fingers ghosting over your shoulders. The barely there touch causing goosebumps to rise on your skin, "You haven't called me that since we broke up," he finishes and the raw emotion in his eyes renders you unable to respond for a few, long moments.
"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't-"
"It's okay. More than okay, actually," he cuts you off with a shake of his head, tossling his hair even more, "I didn't realise how much I missed hearing you call me that and Shua until now," he leans down, heavy eyes focusing on your well-kissed lips as his hands begin to slowly undress you, "Please keep calling me by those names."
The control he had slips out of his grasp as his hands tug down the straps of your form-fitting dress. While you'd much rather wind your arms around his broad and solid torso, you concede for these few minutes to help him undress you. Helping him free your arms from your straps before he tugs it off of your body in record time. Between how quickly you find yourself nearly naked and his words, you can't help yourself reaching for him and he happily complies. Nestling himself between your thighs properly while his hands squeeze your breasts over your bra.
"Shua," you whine into his mouth, your hips jolting up to his when you feel him pressed against you. Your hands tug him as close to you as humanly possible. Determined to fuse yourself to him and, based on the way his grip on you grows harsher, he doesn't seem to mind the idea all that much.
"God, I fucking missed you so much," he groans, nuzzling himself into your neck once more. Licking and kissing every millimetre of your skin he can, and every breath hitting you sends you further into madness. You suppose after months of not being touched, even his breath fanning against your skin is enough for goosebumps to rise to your skin and your thighs to clamp around his waist.
"Missed you too, Shua," you sigh, arching into him when his soft lips drift from your throat to sear kisses to the tops of your breasts. His hands reaching behind you to skillfully unclasp your bra and toss it somewhere onto your bedroom floor. Completely forgotten as he takes the opportunity to drink in the sight of your breasts moving with every greedy inhale and shuddering exhale you take.
"God, you're beautiful," he sighs in a way you'd almost describe as dreamy. His irises totally swallowed whole by his dilated pupils. The 'thank you' you intend to respond with is wiped from your mind when he latches onto one of your hardened nipples. His massive hand kneading your other breast to ensure it's not neglected. Your fingers weave into his hair, tugging on it with each tug of his plump lips and lick of tongue. His fingers tugging on your nipple enough to make you gasp from the embers of pain.
"Always so responsive," he chuckles throatily against your skin, pinching your nipple to prove his point. His eyes glinting at the way you moan and grind against his prominent length.
"Stop teasing," you whine, pouting at him. You're taken aback by the way his eyes soften considerably. Leaning up to press a heartbreaking gentle kiss to your more than likely bruised lips while his hand drifts towards your thighs. Swallowing your keens as his stupidly long fingers drag themselves over your panties. Coating them further in your wetness while you attempt to ground yourself by clawing at his broad shoulders.
"I'm sorry," he says and, based on the way he speaks, you're not entirely sure what he what he's apologising for.
His fingers shove your panties to the side and touch your slick folds directly before you're left with your thoughts for too long. "Joshie," you cry into him with every barely there brush of his digits. Your hips bucking into him when they circle your clit before continuing their leisure stroke of you.
"You're so fucking wet already," he groans, returning to your breasts to litter them with much harsher kisses. His fingers shallowly dipping into your entrance but never giving you the satisfaction you so deeply need. "All of this just from some kissing and playing with your tits, baby?" He asks, glancing up at you like you could realistically answer with his long fingers touching you and his breath fanning across your breasts. The amusement in his tone prickling your cheeks in embarrassment, more of your wetness leaking out of you and onto him.
"Or maybe you just get this wet for me." He muses out loud with a grin that's too smug for your liking. "Don't roll your eyes at me like that," he chuckles. However, the lightheartedness of the moment is cut short when he brings the hand that's been toying with your pussy up for you to see.
"I mean, it is true though. Isn't it?" He poses with a glance to gauge your reaction as his fingers spread, your arousal webbing them. You wouldn't be surprised if you were radiating enough heat from your face to rival the sun.
"Shua, that's embarrassing," you whine, avoiding his intense gaze, choosing instead to focus on an imaginary spot over his shoulder.
"There's nothing to be embarrassed about, baby," he mutters, resting his slick fingers on your bottom lip and focusing on them fully, "If anything, I'm flattered," he finishes with another arrogant uptick of his lips. It doesn't take much nudging for you to part your lips and for him to push his digits into his mouth. A quiet groan hitting your ears when you hum around them, your tongue licking up the taste of yourself eagerly.
"Fuck," he hisses, his thumb catching the drool that slips past your occupied mouth, "I should let you suck on my fingers more often. You look so pretty with them in your mouth," he mutters, grinding his hips against you as he memorises the sight of you gagging on his fingers and lapping at your essence. "Plus, I know how much you like them. You're not very subtle," he laughs, pulling them from your drooling lips and leaning away from you.
He doesn't give you much time to complain or miss his warmth over you, hooking his thumbs into the waistband of your soiled panties and tugging on them so frantically you're worried that he'll rip them. Luckily, they remain intact and soon join the heap of your clothing strawn all over your bedroom floor.
You don't typically have the presence of mind and time to feel self-conscious when you've been with Joshua. Too preoccupied with shutting your brain off and enjoying whatever time with him he lets you have. However, the way he pauses and his eyes leisurely scan your body now tempts you to hide in your pillows. Your heart trying its utmost to burst out of your chest and your blood roaring in your veins all you can hear.
He doesn't leave you to spiral for much longer. Tugging off his shirt that costs more than you think a plain, blue shirt has any right to. Your walls clench hard when your eyes land on the expanses of muscle, skin and arms that are available for you to fully consume.
"I want you to sit on my face," he says and his words are laden with so much unflinching desire. His eyes reflecting the same emotions and, you didn't think it was plausible for you to get any wetter yet, here you are.
"Shua, you don't have to-"
"I want to," he cuts you off with an air of finality. His gaze holding your own and waiting to see if you'd push this.
"I was such a fucking selfish asshole," he huffs, dragging the hand not covered in your spit down his handsome face, "I'm sorry."
You soften at that. Reaching for his hand and lacing your fingers with his, "It's okay."
"It's not," he argues, squeezing your hand before letting it go and settling beside you, "You deserve better than me, you know."
"I've been told," you respond dryly, trying your utmost to keep the images of your friends out of your mind. Basking in the warmth of his body.
"I'll make it up to you. Every chance I can. I promise I'll make it up to you. So, come here," he says as though his words don't close up your throat and cause your heart to hammer against your chest. When he looks at you like that, how could you ever dream of denying him?
Joshua's eyes never leave yours the entire time you move to settle yourself on his handsome face. The look in his eyes makes you feel like you're being set alight from the inside out, only finding a brief reprieve when his focus shifts from your face to your pussy. Large hands palming your thighs while his eyes drink you in.
"Come here," he commands, pulling you towards him. The strength in his hold causes your walls to flutter but, he doesn't force you. Giving you the chance to settle down on his face at your own pace. It doesn't take you much more prompting to do so. Carefully straddling him to make sure he can still breathe and that you're not smothering him. Joshua, however, doesn't care for your concerns. Firmly pulling you down onto him and latching onto your clit like a man starved. Not allowing you a moment to catch your breath. Long fingers biting into your ass as he guides you along his face.
"Shua," you cry, steadying yourself on your headboard while he continues to eager lap at your clit. Your thighs quiver around his head with every suck and lick he gives you, his hold helping you along his tongue. If you could find the strength to crack open your eyes, you would've noticed him watching you. His cock twitching in his boxers with every shuddering exhale and moan from your bruised lips.
The knot in the pit of your stomach tightens faster than you anticipate. Perhaps it's not being touched by anyone for so long or, perhaps it's simply Joshua that has your orgasm building up so quickly. From the way he groans into your drenched folds and his fingers dig into your so harshly that you wouldn't be surprised to find imprints on your ass later, he doesn't. If anything, your fragile state just motivates him. The vibrations from all of his own sounds of pleasure coupled with his unrelenting tongue made it so you really never stood a chance.
He continues to lap at you through one of your most intense orgasms. The grip you have on your headboard bites into your skin but, you can't bring yourselves to care when your walls spasm continously and your vision darkens around the edges. Overwhelmed tears spilling from you and streaking overheated face.
"Joshie," you whimper, your hips attempting to jolt away from him but, his strength is unrelenting. Keeping you firmly situated on his face while his focus shifts lower. A shudder running down your spine and goosebumps once again prickling your skin when he chooses to lap up your wetness directly from the source. The prods of his tongue and brushes of his nose on your clit make your stomach feels as though its tangled in a series of complicated knots.
The tears continue to fall freely as the overstimulation settles itself into your very bones. Your second release hits you like a runaway train. Your choked moans and cries of his name echoing so prominently throughout your bedroom, you're a little worried your neighbours might hear you. Joshua doesn't seem to care all that much. Cursing into your twitching entrance as more of your wetness seeps out of you and onto his awaiting tongue.
His hold on you eases up significantly after that, and with the near nonexistent energy you have and on still shaking thighs, you move off of him. Gracelessly plopping yourself down next to him in an attempt to regain sensation below your waist and come back from whatever dimension his mouth sent you to.
"Are you okay?"
Cracking a tired eye open to meet his heavy but, slightly concerned eyes proves to be a mistake. His hair is a complete and utter mess. Sticking up in every which direction in a way that just endearing him to you. However, the flush to his cheeks and sheen of your juices on the bottom half of his face quickly diminish any less carnal feelings you felt bubbling up for him. Despite nearly blacking out from how hard you came. Twice. Your body still opts to betray you. Your walls clenching around nothing at his dishevelled state and the outline clear as day in his dress pants.
"Yeah," you manage to croak out, cringing at the scratchy quality of your voice.
"Good," he mutters before kissing you. It's much gentler this time around. His tongue still snaking its way into your mouth and, the taste of yourself on it is enough for you to pull him closer to you. Tugging on his hair with every press of his plush lips and nip on your bottom lip. You're reminded that he's very much still hard and hasn't cum when the weight of him rests against your thigh. Just the idea of his cock pulls a wanton whine from you, which he happily swallows.
"Want you," you pant against him, trying your best not to allow yourself to completely lose yourself in his swirling, brown eyes.
"You have me, baby," he responds with more meaning than your fuzzy brain can process right now. His thumb caressing your cheek while he plants quick but, gentle kisses to your lips.
"No," you say, reaching one of your hands between your bodies and cupping him over his pants. He groans against you, his hips jerking against your hand, "I want you, Joshie," you emphasise with a squeeze of his girthy, long cock.
"I wanted tonight to be about you," the drop in octave of his voice only adds to the fresh wave of wetness leaking out of your pulsing hole. "Well, I want to feel you inside of me. That makes it still about me, doesn't it?"
You would laugh at the strangled 'fuck' that leaves his lips if you weren't at your wit's end right now. His kiss is much more aggressive this time around. Barely giving you any time or room to breathe or think while his hands fumble with the buttons and zipper of his pants. Tugging them and his boxers off at record speed and tossing them unceremoniously to join the mess on your bedroom floor. His lips remain attached to yours the entire time. Determined to make you think of nothing but, him.
You moan into each other when his bare cock drags along your drenched folds. His hips shallowly thrusting along you until he's slick with your wetness and his pre-cum. Every nudge of his fat head on your hypersensitive clit causes your lashes to flutter and your hips to meet him in his shallow movements.
"Shua, please," you whimper out when he drifts to kiss and lick your throat once again. His hips never ceasing their movements while his hands occupy themselves with your breasts. Tugging on your nipples while he nips into every bit of your skin his teeth can reach.
"You drive me fucking crazy," he groans, pulling away from you. He doesn't go too far. Gripping himself in his large hand and watching the way he runs along your slit. Drinking in the way you mewl and arch into him, chasing him for every bit of sensation he offers. "Your pussy's so pretty, baby. You'll look even better with my cock spliting you open, yeah?" He breathes, blown out pupils watching your face when he teases your fluttering entrance.
"Yes, yes, Joshie please. Please, just fuck me. I need it, I need you."
That prompts an especially harsh thrust against you, but he still doesn't sink into you, and you think you may just burst into tears from frustration. You'd forgotten his fondness for teasing and pushing you as close as possible to insanity.
"You really want me to fuck you that badly, baby?" The smirk on his face is equal parts irritating and attractive, "You'll even let me fuck you without a condom? My poor, desperate baby," he coos. Shifting his attention away from your face momentarily to watch the way his length teases your hole, his head just barely pushing into you.
"Fuck," you whimpers, gripping your poor sheets for dear life, "Yes, Joshie. Yes, I want you to fuck me raw. Please please pleas-" you choke on a moan when he slowly starts to sink into you. Your head kicks back and whimpers flow freely from your lips with every centimetre of himself he pushes into you. You probably should have let him stretch you out on his long, thick fingers because it takes you a great deal of adjusting to grow accustomed to his cock. His hands scorch your hips and shake with restraint. Determined to allow you ample room to get used to the feeling of him before he really starts to move.
It's difficult to know who moans the loudest when he's finally fully sheathed inside of you. The last time the two of you had forgone condoms was when you were still dating so, the feeling him completely bare sends your mind and body into a tailspin. Your fingernails digging into his back harder than you mean to but, it's not like you can help it when you can feel his cock molding you around him and kissing the deepest parts of you and, he hasn't even moved yet. Joshua, for his part, isn't fairing much better than you. Panting into the space between your neck and shoulder as he attempts to gather his bearings while your walls sporadically clench and unclench around him. It's a little embarrassing how close he already feels but, when your warm, wet walls cling to him, he doesn't think he can be faulted too much.
"Joshie, you ca-can move," you manage to utter with everything within you. Reaching for him and cupping his beautiful face in your hands. You don't want to examine the look in his eyes too closely right now. You don't think your heart can take it, and you fear you'll cry for an entire reason entirely if you do.
He nods. His first thrust is barely a movement at all, calling it shallow would be generous. However, after what has felt like a lifetime without any friction, that miniscule movement is still enough to set off sparks in the base of your spine and a gasp to be punched straight from your already struggling lungs. "I missed you," he grunts into your neck, the slight pain from where he runs over the bruises forming there with his mouth only causing you to clamp down even more around his thick cock.
"Missed you so fucking much. Only thought about you the whole time," he pants while he picks up his speed significantly, his hands keeping you in place while he sets the pace. Glancing up at you to watch the way your face twists with every drag of himself along your sinful walls and bite of your sensitive neck. "Did you miss me? Did you think of me? Think of this cock, sweetheart?"
"Yes," you cry out, trying to fill your greedy, burning lungs with any air you can while you lose yourself in pleasure, in him, "I only ever thought of you, Shua. Missed y-you so much," you moan because it's true. It was so hard staying away from him. From not running to your car and knocking on his door at concerning hours of the night. And now, as he fucks you to tears on his cock, you wonder why you even stayed away from him. From the look he gives you now that makes you feel like you're burning and, from the way his large hands that splay across your hips, you don't know why you ever thought of never seeing him again.
Your respective sounds of pleasure coupled with the obscene sounds of him thrusting into you ring out throughout your room. Bleary eyes drinking in the way his biceps flex and the sheen of sweat that's built up on his tan skin. Inky hair sticking to his damp forehead as he watches himself sink into you over and over and over again. Catching your lidded gaze and leaning down to kiss you, one of his hands cupping your jaw. Drifting downwards to ghost along your throat but, not applying pressure. Still, the thought itself is enough for you to keen against him and tightening around his cock.
"I love you."
Now that catches you totally off guard. Your eyes widening and your blood roaring in your ears. You blink up at him, your lips parting as your brain tries to process his words.
"Joshie," you sigh, lacing your fingers behind his neck and kissing the corner of his lips, "I love you too. I'll always love you," you whisper, not wanting to scare him away and feeling far too much far too quickly that you don't think you could speak louder even if you wanted to.
"Fuck," he grits out, pressing your thighs against your chest and tugging you into another searing, messy lip lock. It's more teeth and spit than an actual kiss but, you're not complaining. "You're mine, right? That other guy could never make you feel the way I do, right baby?" He groans against your mouth. You weren't expecting him to bring up Seokmin now of all times, while his cock bullies the sensitive parts of your walls and you're pretty sure another orgasm is building.
"Joshie-"
"I want you to say it," he mutters, his hand slotting itself between your sweaty, scorching bodies until his fingers find your clit. Not allowing you a chance to adjust, rubbing quick circles into while he continues to split you open on his cock, "that you're mine. That he'd never make you feel this way. Feel this good."
"I'm y-yours, Joshie," you whimper, his body keeping you in place so you have no choice but to allow yourself to be fucked dumb by him. That all too familiar knot tightening and tightening with every brush and stroke, "I'm yours. Always yours. Only yours," you cry out when he bites down on your neck.
You feel him cum before the warning tumbles out of his mouth. His cock pushed into you as deeply as it'll go and it throbs. It throbs and keeps throbbing with every rope of his cum that fills your waiting walls. Drawn out moans burned into your skin while his fingers clumsy continue to rub into you. It's no surprise then, with his warm cum already beginning to leak out of you, that your third orgasm hits you. This one isn't as intense as the previous two but, it does still causes you to squirm underneath him. Slick walls spasming around his softening cock while your combined orgasms trickle out of you and onto your poor sheets.
"Shua, my thighs hurt," you wheeze, tapping his arm. He mutters a tired 'sorry' before slowly pulling out of you and getting off of you. He does take a long moment to sear the image of his cum dribbling out of you into his mind. Shaking his head, he lies down beside you and tugs you to his broad chest. Cuddling with Joshua joins the litany of activities and behaviours you're not used to from him. However, he's so warm and you're so, so tired. It's just so easy to allow yourself to be lulled to sleep by his heartbeat and his hand playing with your hair. It doesn't take long for him to join you in the land of slumber after your eyes flutter shut.
Seokmin💛: Hey, just wanted to let you know I got home! I really did have a great time. I hope we can go out on another date soon :)
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python333 · 4 months
Text
déjà vu — python333
— — — —
synopsis you and ghost are more similar than the two of you realized.
relationships platonic!ghost & gn!reader.
characters ghost.
word count 2.88k
warnings 2nd person pov [you/yours/yourself], usage of c/n [call sign/code name], ghost's backstory [yes that is a warning within itself], kind of badly written.
note holy shitttttt i'm so sorry i haven't posted in two months. to everyone who is disappointed this isn't a req they submitted—i am very sorry but i have like. no motivation. please take this small fic as a peace offering after being silent for two months. also yes i said alej fic but i only had motivation to write for ghost LMAO
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“So…” Ghost can hear Price next to him, creating an echo as he speaks through his earpiece, “Doesn’t it get hot, always wearing that mask?” 
“Not when it’s made of the right materials,” Your voice crackles through, the wind blowing by slightly distorting your voice, “It’s also winter, captain, so no, it doesn’t get hot.” 
The corners of Ghost’s lips twitch upwards when you answer, but he otherwise doesn’t say or do anything, simply leaning against the wall parallel to Price. For you, maybe your mask doesn’t get hot, but his certainly does—though, he doesn’t voice that, simply listening. 
“Oh really?” Price hums, looking around the corner of the wall he’s leaned up against, spotting a few enemy soldiers walking by without a clue of who they’re in the presence of, “What’s yours made of, then?” 
“Polyester,” You answer. 
From what Ghost understands, you wear a mask for the same reason as him—anonymity. As much as he can respect that and understand the want to remain anonymous, he can’t help but wonder why you would want that. Is it for reasons similar to why he wears his? Have you gone through things similar to what he’s gone through? Did a fellow SAS soldier also murder your entire family and attempt to pin it on you, to which you responded by killing him, stealing his dog tags, and burning your own house down? He had many questions, but didn’t ask any. 
He doesn’t think you’d answer them, anyway. He certainly wouldn’t. He’d maybe try to divert the conversation with a bad dad joke, or simply not dignify the question with a response, anything but an actual answer. He strangely expects the same of you. 
He vaguely remembers a conversation he had with Price when you first joined maybe two months ago, specifically a comment Price had made about your file; “I had the same conversation with Laswell about their file that I did when I first got yours. She said the same thing when she saw their file, too, word for word.”
It turned out that they had the exact same exchange that they did when they saw Ghost’s file, verbatim. Laswell had pointed out that you had no picture, and Price said, “Never.” Ever since then, Ghost has felt an inexplicable connection to you, despite not having talked to you that much. 
He’ll admit, he tried to initiate a conversation with you more often than he did with the others when he first met them. Maybe one or two times a day, he’d find you and make small talk, something that made his skin crawl with discomfort but something he still forced himself to do, just to try and make sense of the invisible line that seemed to tie you both together. 
This small talk started off as anything from a question about the weather—yes, Ghost asked about the weather, unfortunately for the both of you considering how awkward and stilted that short conversation was—to asking about training and skills. He didn’t normally initiate conversations with anyone else, he was typically the one that was walked up to and barely even had to carry any conversations he was in. 
Every conversation the two of you had always ended the same way, though; with you cutting it short the moment it got anywhere near your personal life, or even just your life outside of being a part of the 141, and walking off elsewhere. Ghost could see the tiniest bit of himself in you everytime you did that, and an annoying voice in the back of his mind always asked, Was I always that much of a hardass? … Am I that much of a hardass?
“Ghost,” Price’s voice snaps Ghost out of his train of thought and he grunts, looking over at Price. The man in question nods his head towards the now clear path to the building they needed to get into, and Ghost nodded back, taking his SMG out of the sling and moving out of the small alleyway they’d camped in, following after Price. 
They quickly rush over to the building, the doors thankfully unlocked and the soldiers guarding it stupid enough to not be right beside the front doors, and lock the doors behind them once they’re in. 
“Are you guys in?” You ask, the wind no longer distorting your voice, the background of your audio now relatively silent except for your faint breathing. 
“Yeah,” Price replies, the darkness of the building making him squint as he scans the walls for some sort of light switch, “Anyone notice we got in?”
“Not that I can see, no,” You answer, your sigh audible through the comms, “They’re pretty far from the building, actually.” 
“Perfect,” Price hums, patting his hand along the wall for a moment before finding a large lever. He hesitates to pull it, and ultimately decides against it, deeming it too risky. Instead, he searches his tactical vest and goes through a few large pockets that sit around his lower midriff before finding a relatively small flashlight. 
He presses the button on the end of the handle with a small click, and the flashlight flickers for a moment before the light becomes consistent and a small buzz begins to sound. Price looks around for a second, scanning the area for any immediate threats, and motions for Ghost to follow him. 
“See anything?” You ask curiously, some rustling heard on your end. Ghost looks around for a second, footsteps echoing eerily through the building. 
“Nothing important,” He replies, voice quiet, “Just dust and old furniture.” 
“His office is just down there,” Price interjects, nodding towards the hall to their left, making Ghost look in that same direction, “I’ll head down there, you stay here, let me know if anyone’s coming.” 
The echo from Price talking to Ghost both through comms and being right beside him, as well as the echo from being in such a large room, starts to irritate Ghost. He rolls his shoulders and puts his gun back in the sling, looking back at Price.
“Turn off your comms,” His suggestion sounds more like a command, but he’s sure Price understands it’s more of a request than anything else, “You’re echoing. If anything happens, I can just talk to you without them.” 
Price pauses before nodding, and pressing the small button on his earpiece to turn off his mic, and the piece entirely. He trusts Ghost wholeheartedly, and it shows. He takes one last look around before walking towards the office he pointed out. 
The office belonged to the man who had stolen vital intel from the 141—not intelligence on the task force itself, but rather a separate team that had recently allied themselves with the task force. They couldn’t risk that data being taken, as it would not only expose the other team, but several other similar teams and task forces. 
Ghost waits until Price is actually in the hall before speaking again, “You still there, [c/n]?” 
“Yeah,” You answer almost immediately, “Need something?” 
“No,” Ghost hums, leaning against the wall behind him, “Just wanted to talk.” 
“Please don’t ask me about the weather again,” You sigh, almost exasperated, “Or about how my training is going, or about how my CO is, or—” 
“I’m not,” Ghost interrupts you, not sure whether to laugh or cry at your examples of past conversations. 
“Promise?” 
“Promise,” He says, before asking, “How long were you apart of the army, before joining here?” 
“Before the 141?” You pause, thinking for a moment, “Sounds kind of personal.” 
“You don’t have to answer,” Ghost offers, voice almost reassuring, “Just curious.” 
“Aren’t you always,” You mutter, a comment Ghost promptly ignores, before you properly answer, “Just a year. Maybe a year and a half.” 
“American army, right?”
“Mhm,” You hum, “Would you believe me if I said we sang Yankee Doodle before going on any missions?”
“Oh, sure I would,” Ghost chuckles, before countering, “Would you believe me if I said that song was made to mock Americans?” 
“I’m not sure if I should be offended that you believe that,” You say, a lighter lilt to your voice as you do compared to a few moments ago, “But yes, I believe you. I think that almost every American has reclaimed it as one of the most patriotic songs, though.” 
“Almost every American?” Ghost questions, growing more amused as the conversation goes on. It confuses him, making him wonder why he’s so easily drawn into conversations with you, no matter how small or dry. 
“I’m sure there’s some here and there that don’t like it,” You elaborate, “But I haven’t met any. Not yet.” 
“Alright,” Ghost nods even though you can’t see him, before asking another question, “What branch?” 
“The Navy,” You answer, now without questioning Ghost which brings him a strange sense of relief, “I flew planes around and stuff. Didn’t really like it, though.” 
“Oh yeah?” Ghost sounds more interested now, “Why not?” 
“The soldiers there aren’t the best people to be around,” You hum, the sounds of you moving audible, “One mention of any sort of mental issues, even if it’s just something like feeling anxious or being sleep deprived, and suddenly everyone’s on your ass pressuring you to be better or just… being weird about it. It gets draining after a while.” 
“I bet,” Ghost murmurs, “Is that why you left?” 
“Partially,” You answer honestly, “Half of it was that, the other half was that I just didn’t like flying planes. I was also eighteen and couldn’t really control my impulsive thoughts, so a majority of the time I was fighting myself trying not to crash the plane on purpose.” 
“Makes sense,” Ghost considers what you said for a moment, before his eyebrows furrowed in confusion and he asks, “Isn’t the enlistment age for the Navy nineteen?” 
“It is,” You assure him, “I was an exception, ‘cause I was a month or two away from turning nineteen.” 
“Hm,” Ghost hums, “And you’re twenty now?” 
“Twenty, almost twenty-one,” You confirm. 
“Did you wear the mask back then?” Ghost asks, praying that the question isn’t too personal to the point where you stop responding. He’s been dying to ask the question, always worrying whether or not it was too personal—it was pretty personal, to be fair, but he wasn’t used to worrying this much over another soldier, much less one he only met two months ago. Sure, you both wore a mask and remained somewhat anonymous, but that didn’t mean you two were automatically best friends who braided each other’s hair. 
“...” You don’t respond for a moment, making Ghost’s worry increase, before you reply, “No.”
Your simple answer makes Ghost more curious, and he can’t tell if he should ask why or not. He stays silent for a few seconds, weighing his options, before he ultimately says, “Alright.” 
He tries to leave it up to you whether or not you want to tell him about your own story, of if you’re comfortable with that, which you probably aren’t, considering that—again—the two of you only met a couple months ago.
“Did you wear the mask?” You ask quietly a moment later, catching Ghost off-guard, “Before this?” 
“Before the 141?” He echoes your question from earlier, nodding to himself, “Yeah. For some time before this, I had a different mask, but it was still a mask.” 
“Was the skull always there?” 
“Mhm.” 
“… For just aesthetic purposes, or?” Ghost feels the corners of his lips tug up in amusement at your question, and at how genuinely curious you sound. 
“Eh. Not really,” He answers, taking a deep breath in and out through his nose. He doesn’t say any more than that, not being able to as his mind takes him back to a time a while ago, when he was being held hostage and was in the same room as some kids who heard him spill his entire background to the men holding him hostage. 
He remembers one kid in particular, a little girl with blonde hair, who had listened to every detail that he’d said. When he was telling the story of why he has the call sign Ghost, in hopes of distracting the men so that the 141 could rescue him and the kids, she had clung to every detail and later asked him if what he had said was true, her tone of voice eerily similar to yours. 
He remembers when he was carrying her out of that room, the questions she’d bombarded him with, and how he answered every one with as neutral of an answer he could muster. He debates doing that now with any questions you ask, but decides against it almost instantly—something that shocks him, even though it was his own thought—considering that he wanted to ask you those same questions. Not about your call sign, only about the mask. 
“It’s a long story,” He says after you’ve been silent for a while, your curiosity somehow palpable even through just the comms, “But it has to do with some family members.” 
“Yeah?” You hum, “I know a thing or two about that.” 
“Do you?” Ghost asks, slightly ashamed at the small jolt of excitement he feels at the opportunity of hearing more about you. 
“Mhm,” You pause, staying quiet for a moment, before continuing, “About family members. Dead ones.” 
“Ah,” Ghost nods, the discomfort he originally felt sharing some of his own story starting to melt away, “Dead ones. I understand.” 
“Can’t tell if I should be glad or not,” You snort, “Like, I’m glad you understand, but also sorry.” 
“Don’t worry about it,” Ghost grins under his mask, “I was wondering the same thing.” 
“So… dead ones,” You think out loud, before asking, “That’s why you have that call sign and mask?” 
“Yeah,” Ghost looks around for a moment, reminding himself to keep watch while talking to you, before cautiously asking, “Are yours the reason for your mask?” 
“Not really,” You answer honestly, with a little less resistance behind your answer to Ghost’s relief, “Well… I mean, kind of. But they’re not the reason-reason. I didn’t really like them, so I’m not gonna give them all the credit, but I’ll give them… maybe twenty-five percent of it.” 
“A quarter’s still a lot,” Ghost points out, “What’d they do to earn that?” 
“They died, and…” You’re doing more pausing and hesitating now, making Ghost wonder if he’s going to personal every second that you stay quiet, before you finally answer in a more guarded tone, “I almost got blamed for it. Almost.” 
Ghost gets hit with a pang of mixed emotions, like a weird sort of uncomfortable nostalgia. They almost got blamed for it. He lets out a breath that’s slightly shaky, and thinks for a moment before saying, “Almost?” 
“Almost,” You confirm, tone a little less guarded, presumably at Ghost’s more calm reaction, “Then I handled it the best I could, and the guy who killed them got what he deserved.” 
“Which was?” Ghost feels more of that uncomfortable nostalgia bubble up, giving him an uneasy feeling in his gut, as if he knows where this conversation is going. 
“Death,” You answer softly, “And the nameplate on his uniform stolen, which I replaced with mine. I would’ve taken his dog tags, but we didn’t really wear them on missions ‘cause our drill sergeant didn’t care too much.” 
Ghost can put a name to the feeling now. Déjà vu. He takes a deep breath and considers your words for a moment. 
“And the body?” His lips move before he can think. 
“Burnt.” You answer simply, “The whole house. It was mainly drywall, so it took a moment to actually completely catch on fire, but it was quick enough. It also smelled disgusting.” 
“Yeah, I bet,” Ghost swallows, vividly remembering the smell of his own house, before continuing, “He was a soldier for the Navy, too?” 
“Mhm. He was… a Private, I think,” You reply, “I wasn’t too close with him. I wasn’t with anyone.” 
“And so the reason you wear the mask is…?” 
“I didn’t really exist anymore after that,” You hum, “At least, not to them. I was dead in a burned down house, my own house, and was far gone. I like wearing the mask; it keeps me as just another soldier, not as the person who died in that house.” 
“But you didn’t,” Ghost points out, trying to ignore the eerie feeling that only grows stronger the more you talk, “You’re here.” 
“… Yeah, I am,” You say after a moment of thinking, smile evident in your voice, “Doesn’t mean I can take that back, though. ‘s not the best feeling, doing something like that.” 
“Trust me, I know,” Ghost chuckles, “If anyone here, I’d be the person to know, kid.” 
“Really?” You ask, voice more curious like it was before, “Why’s that?” 
“I’ve… weirdly been through almost everything you said,” Ghost admits, “Word for word with the house burning down, actually.” 
“… Huh,” You huff out a small laugh before saying, “I’m wondering if I should feel happy or sad again.” 
“Me too, again,” Ghost smiles, eyes flickering up at Price’s footsteps sound through the hallway, his silhouette slowly coming into view, “One last question.” 
“Shoot.” 
“How’s the weather?” 
“I’m not answering that, fuck you.”
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212 notes · View notes
aperrywilliams · 1 year
Text
They Will Never (Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader)
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(Not my gif. Credits to the creator!)
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Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader
Summary: Spencer's girlfriend is jealous. During the Christmas party at their daughter's school, the other moms don’t stop hitting on him.
Word Count: 3.5k
Warnings: 18+; Minor DNI. Suggestive and dirty talk. Smut (fade to black) at the end of the fic. If I forgot something, let me know.
A/N: I’m back!!!! This past months have been a rollercoaster in many ways. Well, talking about this fic, it could be a sequel from "That Wicked Love" multipart I wrote a while ago. Nonetheless, it could be read as a stand-alone.
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I never thought it would be easy. When I discovered that I was pregnant and Spencer wasn't going to support me, I was sure the world had ended.
There were weeks of thinking over and over again about what I would do with my life. Then I decided I would have Olivia, and that's it.
I don't regret my decision. Liv is my little girl, and I love her with all my heart, but motherhood is hard.
Since Olivia was born, my life has mostly revolved around her. Being a mother is a full-time job. But I have been managing the best I could. I continued working after she was born, and with time, some of my personal life returned too.
However, the stability of our little family was broken when a bloody bastard kidnapped my little girl two years ago. She was four back then.
That wasn't enough, though.
What were the chances of Spencer working on my daughter's kidnapping case?
I forgot to mention that I never told him I would continue my pregnancy, so it was a surprise for him to see me and know that he had indeed been a father.
Fortunately, Spencer’s team recovered Olivia and three more kids kidnapped by the same guy.
What followed was a rollercoaster of events and emotions. Spencer wanted to be in Liv’s life, and although I swore never to talk to him again, I couldn't deny my daughter of her father.
He showed regret and swore that leaving me alone while pregnant was the worst thing he had done in his life. He looked genuinely sorry, and he wanted to make it up to Olivia.
Against the odds, I let him.
He became the best dad for my girl. Since then, he has been for her at every step.
The problem? Having him close awoke those feelings I thought were buried the day he left.
I tried to ignore it. I really tried. Even if he never did something to make me uncomfortable in our co-parenting roles, I did feel off with it.
I still loved him. And months after, Spencer confessed that he still loved me too.
Would it be a bad idea? Maybe. But I left my heart to speak louder than my brain. That's why we have been dating for the past three months.
So you can guess how odd it is having your daughter’s dad as a boyfriend. Some people think we are married or living together when we are not. Others believe we are just co-parenting and don’t have a relationship.
Usually, I don't care what people think. But right now I wish things between us were clearer to the world, specifically for the moms who had Spencer cornered in the venue of this year’s school Christmas party.
Am I jealous? Yeah. But how could I not be? Spencer is the epitome of the young-hot dad, caring and lovely. And polite. Very very polite. So much so that even if he had noticed their advances, he hadn’t said anything. Maybe he likes that.
This has me overthinking, and I wouldn't say I like it because it brings all kinds of insecurity thoughts to my mind.
Right now, for example, instead of going to interrupt this obscene flirtation, I'm walking to the opposite side to check if Olivia needs anything. I can't bring myself to do something different.
It didn't help to hear part of their conversation when I was passing by a while ago.
“Your wife is a lucky girl, then,” Kimberly chimed, patting Spencer’s forearm.
“My what?” the man asked, confused.
“Your wife? Olivia's mom?” Kim explains, tilting her head. Then Spencer realizes she’s talking about me.
“Oh! No, actually, we are not married,” he corrected. God, Kimberly’s eyes go wide as if she found a gold mine. The rest of the moms there reacted in the same way.
I have nothing against that fact, but with them knowing it? It's like a door was opened. A door to the shameless coquetry, and I hate it.
I knew Spencer wouldn’t be consciously flirting with them, but seeing him laugh at their jokes and don’t even flinch when one of them gripped his forearm not only made me see red.
It was even worst: it made me self-conscious.
I know it's an irrational feeling. Of course I know there are people better than me in many things. I wouldn't pretend to be a superwoman or something close to that. But since Olivia started preschool, I have been feeling less than the other moms. At first, it was because I was raising her alone and working simultaneously. I couldn't make it to every school event or whatever they planned during the year. Now, also, there is the fact that it’s Spencer who can fulfill that role, and I still can’t. He is the cool dad with a cool job. And there are cool moms with cool jobs too, who he’s talking to at this precise moment.
Doing the math, it doesn't look like I could be up to that kind of expectation.
For the rest of the evening, I avoided being close to Spencer and the other moms. Instead, I focused on the kids and that Olivia could have fun at the party. After all, it was the primary purpose of this activity.
The ride home was mostly silent. I tried to concentrate on driving and not look at Spencer from the corner of my eye. Liv was fast asleep in the back seat.
The streets were filled with snow, and you could see the Christmas lights on the windows of each building we passed. The ambient was clearly festive, but I didn't feel or look that way.
Maybe Spencer felt something was off, but I guess he didn't want to bring it up in the car. He only made some random comments about the party, and for all of them, he got from me a curt hum in response.
When I parked, he took hold of a sleepy Olivia in his arms and helped me upstairs.
It was a well-known routine since we told Liv that Spencer was her dad, and she warmed up to him. Every time we got to my apartment after an afternoon together, he carried our daughter to her room and got her ready for bed. The little girl would open her eyes and demand a bed story from her dad.
Spencer loves reading to her, even if he knows most of the stories by heart. That's one of the many things they share as father and daughter, and I try to give them the space to do that. That's why this time, like others, I headed to the kitchen to make myself some tea.
With a mug in hand, and after switching on the Christmas tree lights, I plopped on the couch. I didn't notice before how much my feet hurt. What can I say? The afternoon’s overthinking even dimmed my body aching.
Great, now I can add ‘old and wasted’ to my self-deprecation list.
I let my eyes be entertained by the colored lights, wondering if I was being overdramatic. My thoughts were interrupted by Spencer sitting beside me.
“I couldn't finish the story, and she had already fallen asleep,” he announced, lifting my legs so they could rest on his lap. Thoughtlessly, he started rubbing my feet.
Silence took over the room. I tried to concentrate on the pleasant feeling of his hands on my aching feet, but my face sure didn't hide my sour mood.
“What's wrong?” Spencer asked cautiously, inspecting my features. I tried to play ignorant.
“Uh? What do you mean?” I lied. Spencer frowned.
“You are too quiet. You didn't say anything during the car ride, and I could tell you avoided me most of this afternoon,” he recounted.
Shit. Obviously, he noticed.
“I’m just tired,” I lied again. I didn't want to explain what was bothering me. It was silly, and I felt stupid for it. He was about to say something to question my answer, but I didn't let him.
“Maybe you should go home. I think it's better I go to bed,” I pointed, detaching my feet off his lap and sitting straight on the couch. By all means, I avoided making eye contact because I knew he would realize what I was trying to do.
During the past months, he had spent the night at mine before, but it wasn’t a habitual thing. We decided to take it slow, and neither he nor I had put pressure on that matter.
Spencer’s frown deepened, nonetheless.
“Okay. I’ll go,” he announced. “But first you need to tell me what is bothering you. I don’t bite the ‘tired’ thing,” he declared, shifting his posture on the couch to have a better look of me.
“Nothing is wrong,” I repeated, but my voice sounded even less convincing than before. The man hummed, thinking about what to say first.
“Did you know that in the US the 95% of people who are asked for a confirmation to a statement actually lie about it?” He commented. I huffed, already feeling trapped.
“Great. Now is where your 187 is displayed,” I said under my breath. It was a thought that wasn’t meant to be said at loud. But it slipped.
Spencer tilted his head.
“Hey! Now I’m worried. What happened? What did I do?” he asked in a high pitch tone, scooting to my side. I shook my head, sighing.
Maybe it was better to get clean and tell him everything.
“You - you didn't do anything. I mean, yeah. You were there, all cute and sexy. It's your fault! And they? They were all over you, gawking at you as someone looks at their prey!” I grumbled.
“They?” Spencer asked in confusion.
“The other moms, Spencer! Now you will tell me you didn't notice?” I scoffed, folding my arms over my chest and placing some distance between us on the couch.
“You mean at the party? No way. That not happened,” he refuted, shooking his head.
The bastard was denying the most obvious thing! That made anger fill my body, and I had to stand and start pacing. It was that or scream at the man.
At the loss of words, Spencer stood too, following my pace with his gaze.
I knew he could see the fuming escaping from my ears, but I didn't care.
He wanted to say something, but he didn't know how to start. I bet my pacing in the room wasn’t helping him.
“(Y/N)...” he mumbled softly to catch my attention. I turned to see him. His confused look only fueled my irritation.
“Fuck, Spencer! How can you be so clueless? They were hitting on you! God, if it were up to them, you'd already be tied to their bed frame,” I shouted, hands waving in the air to accentuate my point.
Spencer’s eyes widened.
“What? That's not true. They were being nice. That's all,” Spencer defended. Sure, he has to be oblivious right now. I would have punched him to make him realize the truth.
“Nice, uh? I didn't know nice meant touching the guy in front of the whole people every chance they got. Or are you going to deny they did that, uh, genius?” I sneered now with my hands on my hips. My blood was boiling inside as I remembered the scene.
Spencer cleared his throat. He was recalling those details, and they were hitting him now. Cautiously he took a step forward, hands trying to reach mine.
“Hey, don’t get upset. I - I didn't see that. I’m sorry,” he said, stepping in front of me and prying my arms from their position on my hips. His fingers traced delicate patterns on the back of my palms.
“I should have seen it. I didn't think it was something like that. You know I’m pretty stupid in that kind of thing. I’m really sorry,” he apologized.
I really wanted to stay angry, but seeing those puppy dog ​​eyes, looking intently at me made it difficult.
Argh! Why just one look from him it's all that it takes to feel my knees go weak?
“Don't look at me like that!” I protested.
“Like what?” He asked, kind of amused by the reaction he provoked in me.
“Like you were an innocent pigeon. All men are the same, honestly,” I complained, leaving the grasp of his hands. A new rush of anger came quickly. Spencer pursed his lips; he could tell the reason why I was upset wasn’t just the moms flirting with him.
Before I could turn and walk away, Spencer stopped me grabbing my hand and squeezing it gently so I could look at him.
“Please, don’t go. I’m sorry I didn't notice. But you know why I didn't? Because they are not you,” he declared, intertwining our fingers and grasping our hands with his free one. I looked at him, with some treacherous tears fighting to come out.
He continued.
“They are not you. You are the only one that can get my attention that way,” he declared, bringing my hand to his lips to kiss my knuckles.
“I’m not that special, you know?” I mumbled, pursing my lips to stop the tears.
There it was. The intrusive thought in my mind replayed over and over since it hit me this afternoon.
Spencer narrowed his eyes, realizing there was more than jealousy because of him.
“Don’t say that. Of course you are that special, and much more!” He rebutted, and I chuckled bitterly.
“Am I? I mean, why would you be happy with me when you can get a successful well-manicured super mom like them?” I pointed.
“What are you talking about? What is that thing about super moms?” he asked, now taking hold of both my hands.
I sighed. It was something that was hard to explain, even to me. I left the grasp of his hands, running mine through my hair, collecting my thoughts.
“Look. I don't expect you can fully understand it. Honestly, I think I can’t understand it either. It's just - I don’t know. Sometimes I think I’m not doing enough. I’m not a successful businesswoman with a six-year-old daughter, a nice car, all dolled up, perfect makeup, and baking cupcakes for the whole school, like Kimberly, you know?” I shrugged, feeling small and vulnerable.
Of all that people, I chose to compare myself with Kimberly Garland. The incarnation of a super mom. She was known as a successful CEO at a technological company. Mom of three and recently divorced. She always shows up to school activities, no matter what. And not only that, she actively participates, whether cooking, taking care of the ornaments and decorations, or whatever it needed.
How could you compete to that?
“And do you think that no being like her is a bad thing?” Spencer asked me.
Did I believe that? Perhaps I did.
“Maybe it is. Don’t you think Liv deserves a mom like that? Or you a girlfriend like that? I saw you talking to her today, and I couldn't stop thinking she could offer more than I could.”
It hurt to say those words out loud, but they were the ones plaguing my thoughts at the time.
Spencer's face softened. Great, now I'm sure he felt pity for me.
“She can’t. Kimberly or whoever you’re comparing to. You're an excellent mom, (Y/N). And the best girlfriend I can ask for," Spencer stated now strocking my cheek.
I felt silly making a fuss but the insecurities were there. I couldn't help it. The embarrasment made me downcast my gaze to the floor.
“My sweet girl. Look at me, please," he asked, tilting my chin up. I did so, my cheeks turning red under his gaze.
“Olivia is a lucky little girl, you know? She has the best mom in the world. A mom who loves her and would do whatever it takes so she can be happy and safe. Who cares if you can’t be in all those school activities? Not her, because she knows you love her. It doesn't matter if you are not a company CEO. You have your job, and thanks to that our daughter has had everything she needs. You took care of her alone in her first years. On top of that, you have always sought her well-being and happiness. You let me be in her life even after I hurt you years ago. I will always be grateful that you did,” he said, pulling a strand of hair behind my ear.
“She deserves having her father around,” I pointed. It was a decision that I made when we spoke again after Olivia’s kidnapping. Although my hurt feelings, I couldn't deny my daughter of her father if he genuinely wanted to be in her life. Our problems as adults didn't have to be a problem for her.
“And she deserves the wonderful mom she has,” Spencer declared, kissing my forehead. I blushed at the compliment.
“Now, regarding this relationship,” he began pointing between the two of us. “You have nothing to worry about. They don't stand a chance, and you know why? Because they don't even compare to the most beautiful, smart and brave person I've ever met. Who owns a small bookstore downtown, and my heart. The woman I fell in love with the moment I saw her—the mother of my child. Who gave this idiot a chance to be in her life again even when he didn't deserve it. They are not you, my sweet girl. They will never be, and that's why I could never even look at them the way I look at you.“
Fuck Spencer Reid and his ability with words.
“You mean it?” I asked tentatively. Still unsure if he was being serious.
“Of course I mean it. I’m here for the long run, and I hope someday - sooner or later - we can take the next step. I want everything with you, (Y/N), but I’ll go at your pace. I promise.”
I couldn't help the giggles that left my lips.
Could love make you this way? I felt lighter and confident. Spencer's words made me see that I have no reason to sulk that way.
“Keep talking like that, and you'll get the world, Dr. Reid," I stated, now wrapping my arms around his neck. He chuckled.
“I don't need to get it. I already have it with you,” he said, giving a peck to my nose.
"You're a sap," I teased.
"And you love it,” he added, leaning down to kiss me. I happily obliged and kissed him back, tightening my grasp on his neck. His hands planted on my hips to keep me steady.
The kiss deepened, and only we parted when the need for air was too much.
He looked at me with a devilish smirk on his face.
“You know?” he started, kissing my cheek and then my jaw. “There is only one bedframe I would rather be tied to right now. And there is only one person I wish would do indescribable things to me as I’m tied up at her mercy,” he whispered in my ear, and immediately, I felt shivers down my spine.
“Spencer, don’t. That's not helping,” I mumbled with my eyes fluttering shut.
“Isn’t it? Why? Are you thinking about it right now?” He teased. The bastard knew what he was doing. “You would like to see me all tied up, waiting for my sweet girl to do what she wants? Would you like to be in control and show those moms who own me?” he asked, as his lips left traces of kisses on my neck. His hot breath was hitting on my skin and making my desire grow.
“Spencer,” I moaned, lost in his words and eager for his touch.
"Tell me what you want. I'll give you anything," he whispered in my ear, hands running down my sides, giving me goosebumps.
“You. I want you.” Those words left my lips like a prayer—the utter confession of desire and pent-up tension. Spencer grunted.
“You already have me. I’m yours,” he murmured, pulling up the hem of my shirt, so his hands could sneak under to feel my skin.
“And I’m yours. Totally yours. But I need to feel you,” I confessed. I was so lost in his touch and starved for more.
Spencer understood the meaning of my words, so he kissed me hungrily, walking us backward in the direction of my room.
That night Spencer proved to me, with kisses, caresses, and words of adoration, that my insecurities were unfounded. It's true that I'm not like Kimberly Garland, but I don't have to be. I have a daughter whom I adore and who
loves me, a job that fills me with satisfaction, and a boyfriend that I love and who does an excellent job of showing me how valuable and loved I can be.
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Spencer Reid’s Taglist: @dreatine​ @nomajdetective @jayyeahthatsme @rosalinasam2 @averyhotchner @tvandfanfic​ @lovelyxtom @princessmiaelicia @pastelbabygirl19  @reidsbookclub @alexxavicry @gspenc @spencerreidisbae123 @calmspencer @pauline5525mgg @disaster-in-waiting @pebble-has-a-mirgraine @anamiad00msday @chlochlosworld @milivanili99
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firefly--bright · 1 year
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jean kirstein modern headcanons!!!
warnings : none! gender neutral pronouns used, if any.
a/n: HI HELLO I'm so so SO sorry for the late fics. my finals ended like a month ago and oh my god I've just been Going Places™ like my schedule is jam packed with meeting up with people i haven't seen in three months because of the exams :/ I'm working on the requests!!! i promise, i read them and i am working on them. but!!! here are some headacanons to.... make up for the lack of content :3
taglist : @mrsnobodynobody , @holding-ishu-and-a-book
✿ masterlist is in linked in pinned post! ✿ enter my taglist ✿
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• he doesnt have a big sweet tooth but he LOVES chocolate like can't live without it. if you're also a chocolate person, he'll buy your fav ones for you and lowkey judges you for it ("why would you like this one???? the one i like is wayyy better you should get those")
• he's most definitely a friend's to lovers type guy. he never really thought he would be, though. he's a hopeless romantic and falls in love with anyone and everyone BUT he's also, as mentioned before, more hopeless than romantic. he'll yearn for the person from a distance, so he doesn't really think that he would go and fall in love with his best friend, of all people. you fall first he falls harder type beat yk?
• he's kind of gives off this confident, cocky and kind of intimidating vibe about him. when you first met him you just knew he thought a little too highly of himself. but after getting to know him, he's super vulnerable and soft and actually tries to be close to you. his intimidating Mr. i-fold-my-arms-over-my-chest-to-show-off-my-biceps persona is just a front, like he thinks being that coccky guy will make people think he's like mysterious or something and want to be his friend/partner
• i have a bi jean agenda actually
• thinks VERY highly of you. asks for your advice on everything even if you might not be good at giving it, hed want to know what you, specifically, think
• he's an architecture major :D i know alot of people have diff headcanons of him doing pol-sci/law (which are all valid tbh i agree with those hcs) but!!! i think he chose architecture because he has the right amount of passion for it. it's the closest thing to art he can have. he loves art but he's also aware that it doesn't...pay well, neither does he want to loose his passion for art. hes heard one too many stories of people choosing art and regretting it because their passion for art is no longer just a passion. Jean's scared he'd lose his love for it.
• isn't really used to physical touch, and if you're a touchy feely person, he's a little surprised when you hold him for the first time. he quickly grows into loving your touch tho and initiates cuddles :)
• hes kinda super smart. like he scores really well in class and always has. not only that, but he's gifted athletically as well
• he's more of a listener than a talker, i think. hed initiate conversation, ask you about you day and let you take away the conversation. doesn't really mind if it's "all about you", but if you ask him about anything, he'd gladly talk.
• hes actually SO shy when it comes to actually doing relationshippy things. the first time you held hands as a couple and not just friends, he had a nervous breakdown. he couldn't even look you in the eyes when he asked you out on a date, even if it was just a casual movie night at home
• he's very organized, surprisingly. he's not a clean freak but he just likes knowing where things are. rarely rearranges anything because it not only frustrates the hell out of him, he'd also have to get used to the new arrangements.
• he has a fixed skincare routine!!! he had acne as a teenager so he started taking skincare more seriously. knows a lot about different products, and if you don't have a fixed skincare routine, he'd tell you to have one. if you have super sensetive skin (like me) and can't handle anytjing other than basic face wash, he'd remind you to wash your face every night.
• he also is protective of his hair!!! he used to have dyed hair, but it didn't go well. he TRIED to bleach his hair but failed and half of his hair came out :')) he never dyes his hair anymore but he does freshen up his mullet every now and then. doesn't let anyone but his mom and you touch his hair.
• asks you if you can help him with oiling his hair because he saw one of those tiktoks saying they work really well. if you're anything like me and are used to oiling your hair every week, you'd massage his hair and his eyes close and his entire body relaxes the moment your hands weave through his hair <3
• LOVES showing you off. either in little ways (by swinging your hands together while walking) or by literally making his entire Instagram page about you. all of his six posts (he rarely posts, but whenever he does it's all about you) have you in them. the cheesiest captions, too. if that wasn't enough, he'd have (y/n)'s with your fav colour heart emoji next to your name in his bio to let literally everyone know who he's with.
• he actually loves to cook!!!! as said before, he'd very organized, so i feel like he'd also be into meal prepping. he watched those aesthetically pleasing videos of people rearranging their fridges with ungodly amounts of plastic cabinets. his own fridge is sort of a mess becahse he doesn't know what goes where :') but he does meal prep, and sometimes even packs you lunches with lil notes
• speaking of notes, he's not really good at talking about his love for you. like he'd show it in so many ways but he can't say it out loud. not only does he get uncharacteristically shy, he's always had issues with saying the words "i love you" out loud, so he either writes about it or draws you <3 you'd find random notes and letters written to you, sometimes with just. a cheesy joke, sometimes he actually Tries and writes a whole letter for you pouring out all the things he can't say out loud.
• the start of your friendship, you two bicker alot. it's clear you care about each other, but he loves teasing you because he knows you'll shoot back.
• he wears really thin eyeliner on special occasions <3 he doesn't like bold looks, but he does like how subtly the eyeliner makes his eyes look different. if yiure good at makeup, he'd ask you to help him.
• has a plethora of diff hats tbh like he collects them like an addiction. he has a fedora and beanies and bucket hats and normal embroidered hats. he has so many it's concerning
• he's very good at driving. when the two of you started getting closer, he'd ask you on long late night drives, either for take-out or just to listen to music and talk. he enjoys your company while driving. if you usually have motion sickness in cars, you will never feel nauseous in his car. he drives very smoothly, not too fast and not too slow. he's kind of a perfectionist (not extremely) and literally screams at Connie to slow down when he goes even a little over the speed limit. he drives the whole time in every road trip.
• his fav dessert is cheesecake. his unpopular opinion is that they're the perfect ratio of sweet and savoury, crunchy and soft.
• hes one of those people to fall asleep anywhere and everywhere. on the couch, at the table, no matter how loud it is or how bright it is. he's a light sleeper and also a snorer. if you're cuddling together, he'd either lay on top of you or wraps not one but both of his arms around you. one under your neck to provide a nice neck cushion, and one draped over your stomach.
• he runs warm, which is both a blessing and a cruse. in summers, even if he'd want to cuddle with you, you feel the need to get as far away as him because he's just so warm. you'd wake up in your own sweat if you do decide to take the risk and let him cuddle you. in winters though, his warmth is very welcome.
• loves it when you hug his arm while walking. if you're tired and kind of lean into him, expect him to eat that shit UP because he loves your warmth as much as you love his. loves it when you lean into him or hug his bicep. even flexes his muscles for effect (you definitely tease him for that)
• is not a fan of thunderstorms, he kind of has bad memories. either from being left out while the ither kids play in the rain, either from the rumbling and the scary sound that comes with thunders that resembles the sound of his angry father or its just how inconvenient it is.
• his dad wasn't really in his life that much, always away on business. every time he would come home, he'd srot of criticize jean's hobbies :( his mom eventually seperated from Jean's father and started her own bakery, hence Jean's love for chocolates.
• he panics very hard when you feel sick. he jumps right into his mama bird genes and makes you a soup from either his mother's recipie or he'd call your mother and ask her for her own sick day recipies. he'd feed it to you and refuse to leave you alone until you've had your meds.
• he loves kissing your forearm for some reason. you loop your hands around his neck after kissing him, so it's the closest to his mouth. he turns his head slightly, closing his eyes as he pecks your forearm :3 it's kinda a weird spot to like kissing, but it's really endearing when it comes from him.
• he has a couple small tattoos here and there. two of the five he has have actual meaning whereas the other three are just for fun
• he wants whatever you want. if you want children in the future, he'd be there with you. if you want nothing but a large house and a couple pets, he'd love to make your dream come true. he's passionate and extremely good at what he does, and he takes pride in it.
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spidrstar · 9 months
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A LITTLE BIT MORE
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★ pairing: aged up!miles1610 x latina!reader
★ warnings: all characters in this story are 18!!! suggestive i think?
★ summary: Miles has been your math tutor for the past few months and you can’t lie, he’s been sort of your lil bestfriend too because you tell him all about your boy problems and everything. It got to a certain point where you were about to let something personal slip.. specifically how you didn’t know how to kiss. Miles may be a lil nerd n a tutor n all but he still gets play, so you asked him to show you how to kiss and it slowly turned into more than that.. a make out session.
★ w/c: 2k
★ a/n: ok so ik i put up a poll for y’all to choose but.. i rly wanted to write abt 1610 miles esp for this one shot 😣 sry yall i got yall w the next one shot tho trust🙏
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“Miles, please don’t make me do this problem on my own.. you know how I am with fractions.”
You groaned at just the sight of the problem and leaned back on your arms.
For context, you were currently in Miles’ room with three different text books sprawled out open on the floor. He’s been your math tutor for the past four months because you failed your last two math classes and couldn’t afford to fail one more because that would cause you to fail the grade. Today, you were both going over things that were going to be in your test at the end of the marking period.
You’ve been studying non-stop all week and grew tired of it (even though all you mostly did was get off topic and have endless conversations with Miles.)
“Y/n, c‘mon you can’t do this every time i’m tutoring you. Just try.” Miles smiled at your reaction to the math problems in the book.
“Can we please just take a small break?”
“..Y/n our last break was 5 minutes ago.”
“Exactly my point!! It’s been too long.”
He chuckled at you and had no choice but to give in. It’s not like he didn’t enjoy the silly conversations you both had. You both saw each other as.. you wouldn’t say therapists but more of a.. comfort friend? Just someone you could talk to freely basically. At this point you were practically each others best friend, you just hadn’t noticed it yet.
Miles always enjoyed your company, no matter what you both were doing as long as it was together. You rarely ever hung out together if it wasn’t involved with tutoring, but that wasn’t a bad thing. You would almost get tutored everyday because math just really wasn’t something you were good at..
“Soo.. what’s with you and that guy what was his name.. Ethan?”
“It’s Evan, and we fell out. I found him talking to two of my friends at the same time and I wasn't gonna stay around to see that unfold. I told them of course, just didn’t wanna be there to witness the outcome.”
He raised his eyebrows in surprise, Miles knew your situation with guys very very well. He knew almost all of the guys you messed around with, well.. weren’t the best. If he was honest, they sucked ass. They all seemed to go after you for one thing, your body. Miles always hated the idea of you talking to another guy, not in a weird or possessive way of course, he was just over protective of you. He always remembers the nights you would text him asking him if he was free just to cry in his arms.
Sometimes you would come in all moody to your study sessions too and for you that was off, because when you opened your mouth it never seemed to shut.
He palmed his face and sighed in disappointment of yet another shitty guy you messed with.
“I told you he seemed off. He was wayy too friendly for a guy that ‘only wanted to be with you’ I never trusted him and i’m proud to say i didn’t.” Miles quoted with his fingers.
You smiled and looked down at the floor deep in thought, “Yeah well, he was ugly anyways. Personality wise too, he never really made me laugh. When I did laugh around him I would laugh at him, not with him. Y’know?”
“Yeah, I would notice. Your laughs never seemed genuine around him.” He shrugged.
You smirked and cocked an eyebrow. “Oh yeah? And what’s ‘genuine’ to you?”
Miles leaned in and placed his palms on his knees looking up at the ceiling thinking of what to say.
“Like.. it’s hard to explain. Around me, your laughs just have a higher pitch and you lose your breath much quicker and you make random sounds while laughing which is what gets me to laugh. Then, around him your laughs were like so motone and you didn’t really hold onto your stomach as if it hurt from laughing so much, you get me?”
You stared at him in disbelief from how much he went into detail, you never thought of how much he really paid attention to you. Your face was a little bright red, you were flustered because you just felt so.. special? The feeling was unknown.
“Wow.. that’s—that’s a lot. I get what you mean though, his jokes were never as funny as yours were. You don’t even have to try to make me laugh.” You smiled.
He smiled back and made a proud expression, you knew what was coming next. Miles always made this face when he was about to brag about something.
“Thank you, I get that a lot from girls. I always make sure to keep them entertained and never treat them like shit. I don’t understand how you manage to find guys like that, I would never do what they do. Pretty sure my ma would kill me.” He chuckled at the last sentence.
You rolled your eyes at the bragging, you knew Miles had game and had many many girls falling for him. I mean, who wouldn't fall for him? Look at him, he has a great personality, he's caring, a momma's boy which, by the way, is totally adorable and he’s just so sweet and genuine. His smile was contagious and he was attractive too of course..
You snapped back to reality, your mind wandering off somewhere else.
“Bet you got lots of bitches huh.” You choke out a laugh trying to ignore the thoughts lingering at the back of your head.
“Nah, it may seem that way but I honestly got my eye set on one girl. I’m not bout that ‘playa’ shit y’know? Gotta keep it real and let ‘em know that cause leading people on ain’t what i’m about.”
You looked at him intensely, really wondering who this girl was. Although you felt the urge to beg him to tell you because you knew how stubborn he was, you didn’t. You were scared you weren’t gonna like his answer so you brushed the feeling aside.
You wouldn’t admit it to anyone but yourself (barely) you had feelings for Miles, you weren’t aware of it until about a month ago when you went on countless dates. On every single one, Miles was in your head and you couldn’t seem to focus on the person in front of you.
“That’s surprising, if you’re not a player like you say you aren’t how do you treat your girls?” You quickly switched the topic and switched the rolls.
“Well, ion be messin’ around with other girls or on that friendly shit y’know? Every chance I get ima flaunt my girl like she’s the lottery.” He smiled proudly.
You scoffed in jealousy. “Wow, I wish there were more guys like you shit ONE like you at least.”
Miles blushed a bit at the way you said you wanted someone like him. He quickly recovered and perked a brow, scoffing with a proud expression.
“Yeah well, I'm one of one. Can’t find anyone like me.”
“I just can’t believe it, I haven’t even been with one guy who’s good enough to show me how to-“
You quickly saved yourself from the embarrassment and threw your hands over your mouth. Miles took notice of this and he raised a brow at you and moved slightly closer.
“Show you how to what?” He asked, smirking only slightly.
Heat rose to your cheeks, you covered your face and grumbled from already feeling embarrassed even though you hadn’t even told him yet. You hid yourself in your knees not wanting to face him.
“C’mon I promise I won't laugh!” He begged.
“Yes you will! I know you!”
“I swear on my pet hamster's life I won't.” He spoke seriously.
You looked up a bit, sighing and agreeing to say what was on your mind, you had always been ashamed of it because you never really kissed just anyone. You wanted it to be special, of course you’ve kissed a few but your old self thought they were special when they weren’t.
“F-Fine. I—I..don’t know how to kiss.” You whispered the last part lowly, too embarrassed to say it outloud.
“A lil louder than that Y/n, it’s just you and me here c’mon.” He sweetly smiled at you placing a hand on your back.
“I don’t know how to kiss.” You said bluntly, looking straight to avoid his striking gaze.
All that could be heard were stifled chuckles and you turned to stare at the culprit, Miles was cupping his mouth with both hands trying not to burst out laughing straight in your face. You smacked the back of his head and scolded him for swearing.
“Miles! You swore on your hamster's life!”
Laughter erupted from him and could be heard loudly throughout the room. Soon he calmed down and collected enough breath to speak.
“He died like a week ago, it's fine.”
“What?! And you didn’t tell me?? Tu si eres malo.”
“Whatever, back on topic. You don’t know how to kiss? How? You’re like, genuinely one of the prettiest girls I know.”
You blushed at both the comment and from embarrassment. You were 18 almost 19 and didn’t even know how to properly have a make out session, not that it was your fault. All the guys you messed with genuinely sucked, and your lips were far too precious for you to just place them on anyone.
“Hey! No es culpa mía, i bet you’re not even good at kissing either.” I huffed angrily.
“Actually, I'm quite known for being a great kisser para tu información.” He admitted proudly.
Then, an idea spiked up in your head. He was your best friend.. you think? Might as well take this perfect opportunity to ask him for a favor, a huge one. This had you nervous though, because it could go two ways. He would say yes and show you and you both would continue to live your lives as if nothing happened, as normal friends right? Or.. you would be embarrassed for the rest of it if he said no. How would you recover from that? Whatever.. might as well do it now and pray nothing bad happened.
“Miles?” You finally spoke, with a serious tone hiding behind your words.
“Yes?”
“Could you.. um—do me a favor?” You spoke shyly, a wave of nervousness was coming at you and strong.
“Depends. What is it?” He spoke more lowly now with curiosity, he subconsciously moved closer to you to hear you clearly. In case you’d decided to whisper again since that was a habit.
You took a deep breath, preparing yourself for what was to become. This determined whether or not you would ever talk to him or see him the same, you seriously thought you wouldn’t be able to recover from this.
“Could you..maybe.. teach me?” You looked down at the floor again, biting the inner corner of the inside of your cheek. You were slightly sweating from how nervous you were.
A few seconds of silence passed before you looked up nervously. Many thoughts racing in your mind right now;
‘What if he was making fun of me in his head right now?’
‘What if he didn’t want to be friends with me anymore?’
‘What if he thought I was weird?’
‘What if he hates me now?’
Your thoughts were quickly put to a pause when he spoke up, you thought you were dreaming when you heard the words escape his mouth.
“Sure, I’ll teach you. But are you sure like, completely sure you wanna do this? I’m kinda rough with it, and i don’t know if you’d like it.” He spoke softly when looking at you.
You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding, shutting your eyes and nodding. You smiled sweetly at him, your heart speeding up with a hint of excitement. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t think about kissing Miles at least once.
“Yes, I'm sure.” You stared at his eyes then his lips wide eyed, your eyes glistening with anticipation. Your lips were slightly parted as you oh so wanted to lean in and just kiss his pretty lips already, but you waited for him to instruct you on what to do.
He moved closer to you and sat in front of you staring at you with slightly hooded eyes. He smirked as he spoke and that’s all you seemed to notice.
“Alright, first you needa part your lips slightly which i see you’re already doing. Then, you just tilt your head to whichever side you prefer and lean in. Close your eyes obviously, then just follow my lead. Simple, you got it?”
You nodded once again, and blushed lightly as he leaned in closer. His hand made his way up and he gently placed it on the side of your neck and tilted his own head shutting his eyes to kiss you.
“Alright, here we go..” He whispered.
With that, he kissed you gently. His soft lips locked with yours, surprisingly you seemed to follow along quickly and placed one of your hands on his toned chest. Your breaths seemed to quicken with every second that passed and he started to lean in more, this time you were slightly pushed back. You held onto the front of his shirt pulling him down with you. Your forearms supporting your upper weight as you laid back on the floor.
Miles now completely on top of you deepened the kiss, his tongue softly grazed against your bottom lip asking for permission to enter which you complied to. He placed his hand back on your neck, his fingers resting on the bottom part of your lower head pushing you against him more. You let a low moan slip past you and you opened your eyes wide, with shock but quickly closed them back up once you heard the sounds he made.
The ‘agressiveness’ he mentioned now showing as low growls escaped his lips when getting a few seconds to breathe between kisses. His tongue fighting with yours for dominance which he quickly claimed.
He broke the kiss, a string of saliva showcasing how intense the kiss was. He smirked against your lips and you both breathed heavily against each other, chests heaving up and down rapidly. He caressed the sides of your waist slipping one hand under the hem of your shirt and leaned in to seductively whisper in your ear.
“I think I'm gonna have to teach you a little bit more than just kissing, ma.” He smirked.
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★ translations: tu si eres malo - you’re so mean || no es culpa mía - it’s not my fault || para tu información - for your information ||
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AITA for getting upset at my best friend for calling me a hoarder in passing?
My (29NB) best friend (also 29NB) have been going through major crises lately at the same time—we will call them Sun. So, yesterday, they sent me a text, when we weee talking about how they haven’t wanted to be over at my house for a while, mostly bc they don’t like my partner…although the subject was in discussion bc my partner and I are splitting up, and I will be living alone again in a couple months. At some point in this discussion, they mentioned the more pressing matter that’s caused them not to be over as much is that they are very allergic to one of my cats—but only the one I just adopted a couple years ago, they’ve had no allergy issues w the other one and they love her very much, she is their niece.
However, at one point, they mentioned that a few years ago, when I was using drugs a lot more irresponsibly than usual—to the point where I got injured from falling down the stairs—they had been speaking to my other close friends. Which is appreciated, and I knew about this already obviously since there was an intervention that happened around that time…the way they mentioned this was upsetting. Specifically, they mentioned that “they approached [other friend of mine] about my drug use bc they thought I was becoming a hoarder” and that MAJORLY triggered me—specifically the hoarder comment. The woman who gave birth to me/raised me is a hoarder, which is a well known fact to just about anyone who is close to me irl, especially anyone who’s known her irl, and ESPECIALLY Sun, who worked as her caregiver for quite a while. Also being compared to/told I am just like my abusive egg donor is the thing that will hurt me the most, bc she is the most cruel, manipulative, abusive people I’ve ever had in my life.
So the thing is, my house is indeed very messy…I have too much junk around, and it’s very difficult for me physically to keep anything clean. It’s actually one of the reasons I’m separating from my partner, and as ashamed as I am about it, I understand. However, it’s not a hoarding disorder at all—I don’t hold onto anything I don’t need out of sentimentality, and if I could wave a magic wand and simply get rid of all the extra shit I don’t need/make everything nice and clean, I would. Unfortunately, I am very disabled with too many chronic pain/fatigue conditions, and actually cleaning the house/sorting through shit to get rid of takes immense physical effort. But whenever someone offers to help me, I jump at those opportunities! I take things to be donated all the time (if I’m able to sort through the stuff that needs to go) and it’s entire worlds different than my egg donor refusing to give up several bins of my baby clothes bc she can’t bear to part with them, despite them never seeing use in her possession ever again.
So, I responded to Sun’s mention of a past conversation thinking I’m a hoarder, with offense and saying it hurt me. We had been discussing just downsizing and how we will be going through my stuff as we pack for the new place, and had mentioned that I should make sure to get rid of certain clothing things if they have holes/are worn out/whatever, which to me, sounded like they think I have a hard time throwing clothes away even if they’re not even wearable anymore. With that and the hoarding accusation in mind, I told them I was very hurt by this. I made sure to be respectful and kind yet assertive, but after explaining how this was an unfair assumption/description of me, they got upset and said I should’ve asked for clarification before coming at them.
Now, do me, I wouldn’t have even considered they meant anything other than how I interpreted it, so it would never have even occurred to me to ask for clarification if I’m not even aware there’s a miscommunication. Apparently, the reason they mentioned getting rid of clothes that have been too worn out is an issue they have themselves, but this isn’t anything I was ever aware of, and once again never would’ve thought was referring to anyone but me. They also say they’re aware that it’s my physical difficulties that make cleaning physically painful for me…but honestly, that’s not anywhere near the same as having a hoarding disorder, which is indeed what they’d accused me of.
Of course, I know the both of us overreacted—me, being offended about being accused of being a hoarder (especially since my immense difficulty cleaning the house is part of why I’m separating from my partner and is therefore something I’m incredibly sensitive about right now) and them, being offended that I took what they said wrong and being upset over some things they didn’t actually intend w what they said…but I’m just not sure if maybe I AM in the wrong here, for expressing being hurt by being called a hoarder here, or if I really am making the entire thing a big deal out of nothing.
So, AITA for voicing my offense at being called a hoarder?
What are these acronyms?
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hoeforhao · 9 months
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Chipmunk Cheeks 🍥🧁🍡🍧|| Joshua Oneshot ||
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ꔫ pairing: husband!joshua × wife!reader
ꔫ summary: your arranged husband takes care of you in your period pain.
ꔫ genre: pure fluff,mentions of blood and pain, reader sort of has body dysmorphia
ꔫ series: svt as boyfriends
ꔫ author's note: walking into the traffic if i don't find myself a joshua hong cuz am dying from period cramps atm!!
Masterlist
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Marriage was never on your book of life and wouldn't ever be your cup of ale. Did your parents know this since the very beginning? Yes! Yet they absolutely went out of their capacity to defy your choices and arrange your betrothal to none other than the Hong Joshua.
Mrs Hong was your mother's colleague, more specifically her best gossip buddy. They were literally known as the gadgets of their office. And when both the women saw that their little ones are getting old with no potential chance of finding their partners by themselves, they settled upon the dreaded agreement.
All your pleas about not wanting to get married to someone you have barely had three to four conversations with, someone whose entire personality, preferences literally everything was unknown to you, were completely left unheard by your parents. Apparently they wanted their daughter to have a "secured future". Literal BULLSHIT.
The most terrifying day of your life was just two weeks ago and here you lay whimpering in pain on the bed of someone you've barely spoken to or looked at since the wedding.
"What a nice time for you to pay your visit, you bastard" you internally curse at your periods.
Yes you're basically dying from period cramps. You didn't know where the nearby medical shop was around here neither did you've the energy to go downstairs and get yourself a hot pack. You were quite literally awaiting your death from organ crumbling pain in your ''husband's room". Too dramatic for just period cramps? Yes! But why react to anything normally when you've the option to absolutely lose your mind over it.
You were so damn lost in your nonsense rantings to the walls of your room, that you failed to register joshua being back from work already.
Finding the house engulfed in absolute silence made his nerves falter for a moment. Usually it would either be filled with loud tv noises of you watching cinnamoroll on the couch or clanking of the utensils as you baked yourself another new dessert recipe.
He quickly throws his coat over the armrest and hops towards your room with those little bunny legs of his ; only to find you completely curled up like a boba ball under the blankets as small painful moans echoed through the walls.
"Y/n, w-what's wrong?" you jolt up from your little coocon as Joshua's warm hands grazes against your forehead.
"Are you okay? You don't seem to have a fever. Did you've a bad day? Did anyone make you cry? Are you missing your parents? If so let's go to their place right now" he grabs your arm gently to pull you out of the bed.
"Would you let me answer or just assume things by yourself Josh!" you unwrap your hands from his while literally burning holes into his face.
"Y-yeah sorry. I was just wo- umm worried." his face hangs low from embarrassment or maybe even a bit of hurt? Not being able to understand what's bothering his wife.
"It's okay. I was j-just having really bad p-period cramps" your face now starts turning crimson, not because talking about periods with a man makes you uncomfortable but because it was h-him...your 'arranged husband'.
"Oh my god Y/n why didn't you call me!!!! I would've run back home from office immediately and brought you treats. Did you eat anything? Where is your hotbag!! Goddamn girl why aren't you taking care of yourself" you wonder if joshua participated in speed talking competitions earlier judging his ability to blurt out sentences without a single pause.
"Calm down Mr Bunny Teeth!!! It's nothing special. I've these every month. The pain will ease out gradually." you nod at him trying to reassure the man that you're infact, not dying.
"No no no way you can talk this so lightly!!! What if you burst from the pain huh! I can't clean up a bloody mess. Hell No" Joshua's last remarks ends up earning him a hard smack from you, making both you chuckle lightly. Dang your husband was even more dramatic than you!
"No seriously tho, you need to take care and pamper yourself during these days. Wait I'll get you some treats" he stands up from the end of your bed to leave towards the kitchen when your arms grabs his from the back.
"I-i don't e-eat sweets or rather I umm can't" your face droops low trying to fight the stray tear making its way onto your lap.
Joshua turns towards you in a swish and bends down to the floor, not caring about bruising his knees on the cold marble; both of his palms reaching to cup your cheeks.
"Why y/n?" a two word sentence was enough to make you break down into a crying mess.
"I - i was a-always told that I'm f-fat and s-so i stopped e-eating my favorite food w-which was s-sweets" you were talking like a five year old, words mixed up with your sobbing and face stained with snot and tears at the same time.
Joshua's firm hands gently grazed over your face as he wiped the mess off of it with his satin white shirt, while the other refused to leave your cheeks.
"You will eat as many sweets as you want love, as you buckets of ice cream you wanna feast on. And I'll be sitting right here infront of you so that each time you think about stopping yourself because of what the world thinks, your face will be planted with a kiss." you've turned completely red by the choice of his last word, the pain in your belly now mixed with a tingling sensation.
"You are perfect the way you're y/n! I can't even imagine a single milligram of you leaving this world. Like omg just think what a great loss will this universe face then!!! I want to see you eat to your heart's content, enjoy each and every meal. Do you even know how bright that smile of your glares when you munch on your food like a happy raccoon, cheeks stuffed up like a smol little chipmunk."
"S-shua you-"
"Sshh! No more words love. Sit here 'til I bring all the food from downstairs and then we'll sit together and watch sanrio, okay chipmunk?" Joshua's slender fingers draw against your lips, sending a flutter of butterflies all over your bones.
Sitting on the bed like an obedient wife you wait for him to arrange a literal feast of sweet treats infront of you, alongside tucking you into the duvet with the hot bag on your belly, making a literal cinnamon roll out of you ; wrapping his arms around your shoulders as your head now rests on his, taking in the sweet scent of his lilac cologne as you two draw yourselves into solace while watching tv together.
"Marriage isn't that scary afterall"
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campbyler · 18 days
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i have so many things i want to say about everything but i do remember the moment where mike (playfully) accused will of lying and it makes so much more sense now i thought he was just being smug as hell like “oh ofc you would’ve kissed me two months ago i am just that spectacular” but no. i’m sorry for doubting you michael you DEFINITELY had grounds for that claim. out of focus eye to eye kidnapped my firstborn and left a changeling in its place. lives were ruined in the best possible way.
exactlyyyyy you get it! the way you worded this ask actually made me want to make a little note about why we wrote the reference in, because it was very intentional and there were a couple different reasons for it which i think are both very important !! (but obviously could not mention here before out of focus dropped)
1. obviously it was a Reference, in that we thought this is a big enough piece of lore that it would be weird for it to never ever come up even once, but the whole idea of the companion fic was that it kind of has an ambiguous ending and even mike was not super duper 100000% sure of will’s intentions (due to the #inebriation). so it was unlikely at this point in their dynamic that they were going to have a real fleshed out conversation about it because it would definitely need both of them to be vulnerable in a way they were Not ready to be at the time (will admitting to wanting to kiss mike/mike admitting to having wanted to be kissed? noooo way). mike is kind of testing the waters here (and being annoying on purpose) but from his pov will either still does not remember or does remember but does not want to talk about it, so it doesn’t really go anywhere anyway. but alsoooooo
2. another remnant of the post ch05 era specifically was a lot of people commenting things along the lines of “omg mike is being so flirty” “where did that confidence come from” etc etc which is so true bc poor will got absolutely blindsided by it and it was so fun to write but!! the idea also is that half it was that confidence boost you get after realizing that someone is also into you/attracted to You and i think mike would’ve taken that and ran with it for sureee (esp bc will initiated the ch04 kiss And the ch05 morning kiss mostly) and the other half was mike having information that the readers and will both did not have! a majorrrrrrrr driving force of acswy is the fact that neither of them are ever working with All of the information, hence the unreliable narration, hence the drama and history and them both being so annoying and unserious, etc etc etc. i think that’s important to keep in mind, especially now that we’re in the ch09 era where their dynamic has shifted pretty drastically since their rivals era in the beginning, or even chapters 04/05. 😗😗😗
i’m actually very glad no one Really picked up on this being a Thing when ch07 dropped bc it was supposed to be super subtle (obviously a couple people said 🤨 am i missing something? and we said No 😌) but the reactions we’re getting now have been incredibly fulfilling and have been just what we were hoping to get, which tells us we are writing this story right! sorry for ruining your life and the changeling baby but thank you sooo much for the lovely ask <33
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spearxwind · 3 months
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Hi this is where I talk a bunch about ocs :D
I dont have a lot of time lately to talk abt lore but i still think abt my guys whenever i have some chill time to myself, so here's some patch notes. This is also just me thinking out loud haha
CD:
ive been playing w some changes for CD and seeing if they stick :] gonna make the story slightly more complex and the sides of the conflict also different (for example I am going to make hades and talas full on enemies at first along with connon, caval and silas >:3 (and I am also making silas and his monster form two separate characters so the lion (hal) is now a mount instead))
Specifically what I've been thinking about is making Hades either a ship captain or a first mate for a rogue ship. The deal with Hades is that he comes from a renowned family from Redbridge and is a disgrace to them. In previous versions of CD they were artisans but that never rly clicked for me, and recently I have been reworking Redbridge into a naval empire to add some 🤏spice 🤏to the world, which would mean Hades' family is actually a naval captain family putting him next in line to be one of them but since his thing is being a disgrace he takes off and becomes a rogue. And instead of hating leviathans he fucking hates hunters instead. Conversely, I think with these changes Talas would also NOT be inclined to kill hunters (or at least not as often as he currently does). He'd pick fights with the naval fleet and other similar factions instead which is more like his character.
I also wanna try and bring back an older concept I had where connon's ship was able to both become fully submerged (like the subs in sunless sea where her character originated from) and this other idea I had where a ship could split in half into two smaller ships. Like if a catamaran could split into two and flank a vessel on both sides. But we'll see if I can make this work x)
Dragons (broken horizon + extinction):
I vaguely mentioned this a while ago as well but I've also been thinking abt my dragons and how I kinda want them to all be in one world/setting, which includes both my broken horizon guys (cer, jarek, octane, etc) and my extinction guys (alex, c, orion, etc) but I dont know how to deal with all of the conflicting lore and themes.
Because for extinction the big theme is there are people who can turn into dragons, and technically all of the dragons' powers are based on energy (for lore reasons). Meanwhile for my other dragons I have a few different elements or other ways of using fire (eg instead of using straight up fire/energy, my oc Jarek can breathe out gas only and ignites it with his mandibles).
I miss all my dragons a lot so I kinda wanted to make a world for them where I could have them Vibe and do different stories in so I thought about having a dragon-only universe but unfortunately Extinction has a pretty huge human element that I cant just eliminate.
It feels counterintuitive, i know the first logical choice is 'just let them be different things' but I genuinely feel like the right choice is to put them both together so the characters can interact and the whole story can be deeper because as it is both are really shallow and I would really like for them to work together so that's what I've been picking at for some months now (it's um. been real slow)
For these two stories I do have two different vibes though that I've been wondering how to weave together nicely bc they overlap for some characters. For broken horizon I had flying and aerial racing as a big theme (and some of the chars in extinction would be rly into that) and for extinction I had dragon arena fights as a big theme (and some of the characters in bh would be rly into that) both of these is another of the reasons why I wanted to put them both together bc it feels like they can fit very well I just have to find the right idea for them to click and then itll be smooth sailing -w-
I also wanted to talk abt this in hopes that talking abt all the dragons gets me to think more about them as well
I wanted to make this post bc I've been really busy lately and rly absent from here in general and I don't have as much time to draw (or even think abt ocs) anymore but I still wanted to keep posted about what's been going on in my head and hopefully get some eyes on it and maybe even some feedback if anyone is so inclined
If u read this whole thing thank u i owe you my life fr I hope u enjoyed reading abt my patch notes :D and hopefully sometime in the future I can get back to drawing concepts and stuff or maybe even writing stuff
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bwbawa · 5 months
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hello, so I'm questioning if I'm autistic so i can reach out for a diagnosis maybe, and i saw another person do this so i wanted to try it out
i wrote a list of some of the things i think that are autistic traits about me and if anyone would like to please read them and tell me if they could be autism or maybe smth else? lol, just as a big favour really. I'll give more context if any is needed, thanks so much!!
also please reblog for reach if you want to, thank you
ts bellow the cut :]
- stimming ( twirling and braiding hair, used to suck on my own hair as a kid, rocking back and forth, doing ??? weird stuff with ny mouth and fingers lol, moving legs a lot)
- echolalia; internal, repeating phrases and songs on my head, but also doing sounds with my mouth
- always feeling like an outsider. This wasn't bad for me as a kid since i was very into creepypastas and media related to being an outcast, i never related it to something bad until adolescence which im still in, and I'm more insecure now about it.
- also, very extroverted as a kid, didn't get social cues and was offensive sometimes
- couldn't and still can't control my strength very well ( sometimes things fall out of my hands or i touch someone harder than i wanted to)
- sensitive skin, to heat cold and pain
- very talkative, as a baby was LITERALLY born babbling
- not good at eye contact, either do way too much or way too little
- terrible at maths (jst not logical to me??? dk how people find them logical )
- kinda restrictive interests but no special interests
- very picky as a child, fav foods were salted noodles with ketchup or by themselves. ( still can't stand some foods and mixing some foods together )
- horrible coordination and balance: didn't learn to tie my shoes correctly, how to ride a bike or how to swim, i bought wheelies and cant use them because my balance is horrible, i run weird (like a baby kind of) and I'm always stumbling on my own feet
- again, didn't learn some stuff until grown: didn't know how to shower correctly or make my bed ( could be due to being very taken care of as a kid, aka my mom didn't let me do stuff by myself )
- terrible spacial awareness: again, stumbling with my own feet, waddling like a penguin when i walk with my friends lol
- bad perception of time
- got upset when things didn't go my way
- ran away when kids were being too loud but didn't mind big performances loud spaces
loud THUDS or sudden noises however startle me, scare me and stress me out: was and still am kind of afraid of balloons, shouting people and loud thuds. As a baby i cried when someone spoke too loudly
- lately I'm much more sensitive to stimuli than i was, could be due to heightened stress in my life: badly done beds make me want to cry, crumbs on the bed feel like hell, heat and sweating are hell, some months ago i cried because my sunglasses and headphones weren't working and there were too many sounds, my head it hurted and everything felt wrong, sent me into a kind of crisis.
- don't think I'm overly empathetic, but i have a strong sense of justice and get very upset and ill about injustices.
related to that, movies and shows that require a lot of stress i don't like, they make me feel ill and i prefer spoilers when it's like that, i get too nervous.
- socially awkward and don't know how to keep conversations going, at least small talk.
- although i used to talk a lot, nowadays i prefer to stay quiet sometimes.
- i get VERY angry and frustrated but it goes away kind of quickly?
-i used to be very loud and I still dont know how to control my tone of voice ( how loud or quiet i am) and i spoke in a very high pitched voice as a child
- i used to read a lot, went to the library in the recess instead of hanging out all the time with kids and used some complicated words that my parents didn't know i knew
- all my life i only had one close friend ( not the same, but always one)
- i think i had a specific routine of morning
- i have a hard time concentrating and being organized
- i make plans for myself in the night and get upset when OTHERS interrupt it but not when i do
- hard time knowing when to pee and when to eat
- again sensory issues, some foods make me want to puke, and wet, sticky or extremely dry hands are disgusting. Also, light touches feel like anger.
- as a kid I repeatedly watched stuff, ended up boring my family because i only wanted to watch that multiple times
- sensory seeker as a kid kind of, slept with my feet up, danced a lot (stimming?)
-i get irritated easily and can hurt people verbally
- don't know if related but i sometimes very anxious, get upset about not saying goodbye correctly to certain people, as a kid i used to cry and didnt want to go to school because of a "bad feeling" that smth bad was gonna happen, could be anxiety.
i absolutely sure there's more, but I don't wanna keep typing
just to finish, most of my circle is neurodivergent. And family wise, my sister is audhd, one cousin and uncle are autistic, my mom has adhd and two of my cousins are suspected autistic.
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itznarcotic · 2 months
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full tweet text under the Read More:
I was ready to move on, I had made my last statement and I haven't looked at anything regarding my past for a full week. I didn't look at anything regarding legal documents or anything regarding my situation since I moved back to Doki. I wanted to be hopeful for the future and never interact with that side again. So to see it all come back and reopen a wound that I was ready to heal from and to have to talk to my lawyer again on how to respond.
The document mentioned was at first made to document my thoughts and history with evidence so that my lawyer can see the general picture of what was going on, and if there were issues that should be addressed. It was first made during my darkest time mentally and I wrote everything on my mind little by little at that time. I made the document thinking that it was never going to be public to anyone but to my lawyer. Although it was a document filled with my personal information as well privacy information that should not be public, there were no other addresses or specific locations mentioned. Regarding a recording, this was not intended to be anything other than a distribution test for planning of a collaborative event between two people, which happened to be left over from one test recording, and I never recorded any other conversations with anyone. The recording was never shown anywhere even in a legal setting and there are no other records. However, I regret that it was mentioned and I am sorry to all parties affected for the misunderstanding in this.
I requested that I just wanted to move on. Sometimes I didn't hear anything for days from the lawyers on the other side and felt like I'd be alone and isolated for a long time. It made it so hard for me mentally. On Feb 5th, my lawyer discussed and said it will be best to show the document I wrote to the other lawyers as we have not heard from them for a week or any negotiation talks or given a meeting to discuss after my request to part. It was never intended to be used for anything else, I've asked my lawyer to convey that and have communication that the document as it was written wasn't going to be released anywhere, and my lawyer did so when sending the document. Less than two hours after my lawyer sent the document, the termination notice came out. I was very shocked, but thought that was the last time I will hear or think about the document and that this, personally and my own opinion, was the end of the lawyers and legal involvement.
All of the communication was done between lawyers in Japanese. Things are not black and white and everything gets more complicated and muddled when lawyers are involved in a different country. When things are conveyed to multiple parties through different degrees of communication, everything turns into different narratives and different translations. I thought it was over and I've accepted what happened and ready to move on. Everything I post to the public about the situation was a response. If it was a month ago, it will have been different as I was angry but I was also very alone in my head. But it's not a month ago and I've accepted it. I wanted it to be neutral and private but now the whole world is involved and the public is watching every step that happens.
I am not perfect and I have faults. I had to watch my dad cry and break down in front of me for the first time in my life last night. Despite everything that has happened, please show kindness to all parties involved, there are real people behind the monitors. One of the reasons why I wanted this to be private is that the internet can be a cruel place and I knew this would happen the moment this type of notice drops. What I didn't reveal to anyone and only my parents and therapist knew was that it was not one attempt but two, which happened a few weeks after the first. My parents found me in time after searching for me for hours before anything happened. I was in a really dark place and I do not wish this to anyone. No one should go through what I went through. I reveal this now not for pity but to state that no life, no matter what, should be risked for ego or winning anything. There are no winners in this. Please don't make it like high school. Treat everyone like adults and with some empathy and kindness.
For those who wish to see receipts or documents or anything else, hoping I will reveal them, I'm sorry but these are the things that should be private and if needed, between lawyers. Revealing private documents and talking about the details within will only just make things worse and more complicated as outside parties get involved and will just hurt everyone. No one deserves to be pushed over the edge. So many people have got hurt and involved even if they were innocent bystanders. In the end, I will always be here to respond and that is the only thing I will do in public. I hope this will be the last statement I have to make.
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How Season 3 Upped Tower of God’s Queer Undertones; or why Khun is definitely gay
KhunBam shipping is wide spread in the fandom. The amount of shipping ramped up due to the release of the anime, but it’s always been a long standing and popular ship, even compared to half-canon Bam pairings like Endorsi, Yuri, and Ehwa.
First off, is the direct connection of Bam and Khun’s relationship to Roen and Daniel’s, and Dowon and Cha’s, both canonically romantic ships. And looking at the three relationships, there’s a common theme of one side losing the other.
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Daniel lost Roen due to White, and spent the next 600 hundred years searching for ways to bring her back. Cha lost Dowon when she was sealed away inside the wall, and Cha went on a rampage against Jahad’s forces before being sealed himself. Meanwhile, both Khun and Bam have experienced the same loss.
After believing Bam died on the Floor of Tests, Khun sought revenge for 7 whole years despite only knowing Bam for a few months. And when Khun enters a coma, Bam is so enraged that he immediately cuts off and threatens Rachel, who he had previously been decently cordial to. Bam also ends up changing his appearance in a way that is reminiscent of Khun’s.
During Season 3, a lot of focus is placed Khun’s relationship with Bam. Multiple characters call him out for being overprotective of him, and Khun’s very first words when waking up from his two-year coma were “Where am I? Where’s Bam?”
During the Wall of Peaceful of Coexistence, Khun and Bam end up exchanging some dialogue that could be taken as flirting when facing down a Ranker. (Which Rak directly calls out at flirting in the original Korean text)
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Khun even winks to Bam in a playful manner, which wouldn’t mean much of anything if it was Endorsi or Yuri, but considering’s Khun’s personality, it’s pretty weird that he did so.
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There’s also the very infamous hug scene between the two. Of course, since I’m not a straight man, I don’t have complete authority over whether this is a normal hug or not. (If anything I think men should be more intimate and open with each other than society says they should.) However the panel composition focuses on Khun tenderly patting his head while Bam somewhat snuggles into his chest. The scene feels very intimate, like the two are separated in their own world. It’s only after we get the scene break with White looking on (and licking his lips) that the viewer remembers that the two are in the middle of what was just a battlefield seconds ago.
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However, this is where we’ll have to get to the darker parts of this relationship. Strictly speaking, Khun’s over dependence on Bam.
We got hints of this in Season 2, specifically in the conversation between Khun and Evan on the Hell Train. Khun states that Bam is his reason for continuing on. This connects to his talk with Rak in Season 1 where he stated that the reason why he’s going up the tower is in order to find his purpose, which he then receives from Bam’s reliance on him to help Rachel go up the tower.
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Khun strikes me as a codependent person even though he tries to hide it. Bam is so important to him that he’ll intentionally put himself in harms way or follow Bam’s orders even if he doesn’t agree. While this was okay in the first two seasons, Khun’s obsession has started to taint the relationship. He directly helped White gain his power back without talking to Bam about it and lied about Arkraptor and Prince’s fates in order to keep Bam moving (but then again we don’t know what Wangnan said to him so he might have just gotten the wrong info.)
These actions seem to stem from Khun’s anxieties that Bam will eventually leave him one day. He even states he feels guilty leaving Bam alone for the two years he was in a coma despite the fact that the entire situation wasn’t his fault. While Khun shared some of these thoughts with Bam on the Hell Train, he hasn’t actually talked about it with Bam, leading to buildup of these feelings on inadequacy. It’s only a matter of time before he eventually fucks up majorly.
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In a way, Khun and Bam’s relationship sorta mirrors Yasratcha and Wangwang’s. Both Wangwang and Bam have a special power and the ability to stand against the abusive powers that reign over them. Meanwhile Khun and Yasratcha just want to live a normal life with their loved one and will do anything to keep it that way.
Hopefully Khun will receive a wake up call before things get too bad, and he and Bam can have a proper conversation about each other’s wants and needs.
As of right now, Season 3 has ended with the two separated and dealing with different, but also similar, issues. Bam is being forced to marry a woman without either of their consent by Traumerei, who seeks to add him to his collection. Khun is being kept as a pet “cat” by Bellerir because of his looks, with specific mention of selling him out to rich men and women.
There’s a clear link between Bam and Khun’s situations, explicitly in a way that takes away their autonomy for a “romantic” purpose. I expect the two’s storylines to follow a similar path before eventually converging. And if SIU does want to make KhunBam canon, then the end of that arc would be the perfect place to do it (or even just have them realize their feelings I’m not asking for much.)
Also separate thing but Season 3’s overarching theme seems to be about abused groups fighting back against their oppressors, which is pretty gay.
Now for the non-KhunBam gay:
Yasratcha’s entire story is about the ultimate destruction of his relationship with Wangwang, leaving him bitter and spiteful due to his crush’s death but also attempting to protect his son’s. Yasratcha and Wangwang’s meeting as regulars is an alternate version of the “turn the corner and bump into your soulmate” that’s utilized (and parodied) in so many anime. Yasratcha enjoys his time with Wangwang so much that he makes his entire purpose to be with him. (And he says it in a very romantically charged way)
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When Wangwang encounters Nennen, Yasratcha comments that Wangwang’s heart was stolen and that he was jealous of her ability to do so. He strikes up a somewhat antagonistic relationship with Nennen, continuously needling her and being weirdly interested in their sex life.
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This eventually culminates in Yasratcha’s “betrayal” all so Wangwang can break free from his master and become reliant on Yasratcha again. When Wangwang is begging for Yasratcha to kill him, Yasratcha can’t bring himself to. Finally he enters a suicidal battle against the rest of the canine people hoping to eradicate them while also hoping to die himself, because he feels like he can’t live on without Wangwang.
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White is another queer-coded character with his obsession of “corrupting” Bam and his daddy issues.
Finally there’s Traumerei. Even though we don’t know much, due to the large jacket, his comments on love, and “relationship” with Wangwang, we can assume he had a close relationship either V or Jahad. He may be an intentional foil to Yasratcha, losing his “friend” because of their interest in a woman.
Also even though it isn’t Season 3 content, Wangnan and Shibisu carry heavy bisexual energy with their casual flirting with Nia and Khun respectively.
TLDR: Tower of God is plagued with queer-coded twinks who have trouble forming healthy relationships and get too easily obsessed with talented men. They also all have abandonment issues
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We need to have a talk about @sjmcrackshipmonth and the labeling of crackships in this fandom in general. Yes I am tagging this month specifically because I had a conversation with them about this already, that seemingly did not stick and this time it's gotten a little more personal. What's more is that it's a problem that's not just unique to this blog, but a concept that this fandom seems to struggle with
About a month ago, I messaged this blog raising some concerns regarding their tagging on their announcement post. They had tagged Emorie and Azris, which are two of the most LGBT prominent rarepairs in the fandom. I didn't really feel good seeing that a month for crackships had tagged two LGBT ships that are not crackships. I'm going to get a bit technical here, but please stick with me.
Fanlore defines a crackship as "is a ship that is highly ridiculous, bizarre, disturbing, and/or unlikely to ever become canon. The characters don't have any chemistry, never interact, are in different canons or timelines, are different species, one is an inanimate object, etc. Fans can and do sincerely ship a crack ship, but generally they don't take its chances too seriously and may like it precisely for its implausibility."
I understand that this month is for fun, and I love a good crackship. But seeing those LGBT ships labeled as something with that definition? As somebody in the LGBT community who loves to see the tiny bits of representation on the page we do get, I wasn't a fan of seeing a crackship blog in the tags. Hence why I messaged them last month and explained my problem.
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The runner was very polite, and we had a discussion on the use of the term crackship, and why I felt it was inappropriate to tag those ships and include them in the month.
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I understand they have good intentions with this, but I pointed out that they had a different route to go. Emorie and Azris were not the only rarepairs tagged, which is why I do believe this person was being earnest about their reasoning, but they were the ones that rubbed me the wrong way.
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I was trying very hard not to come off as attacking this runner, especially after their explanation. I know crackship is used fast and loose in this fandom, especially considering many artists are doing 'crackships' on their patreons and whatnot that are really just rarepairs, and not just LGBT ones. But there is a serious problem with calling LGBT rarepairs crackships when LGBT ships are so scarce in this fandom. People call ships crackships just because they don't like them, or it doesn't match their own personal ideas of what will happen in canon. Which is extremely not cool, but seemingly not the intent behind this blog, and I'm not saying that, I'm just pointing out it's a real problem in this fandom. It’s one of many casual forms of homophobia that we throw around
But the problem came to a head yesterday. I had previously discussed this blog with @ofduskanddreams, who is a pretty prominent (and amazing) Azris content creator, because the tags also rubbed her the wrong way, but they were resolved and I had heard back from the runner that they would abstain from involving Emorie and Azris in their month.
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That is the entirety of our conversation in all those pictures, including their promise to avoid using Emorie and Azris in the month. Everything was fine until yesterday when Kate realized they had reblogged one of her Azris moodboards. She didn't like that, and didn't want her content for a rarepair that she puts time and effort into to be thrown onto a crackship blog.
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This was sent yesterday, more than 24 hours ago, not long after crackship month reblogged her post. As you can see, there is no response and the post remains on the blog. It was frustrating enough that in the span of a month, this person completely forgot or decided to ignore what I thought was a meaningful conversation, but now they're just blatantly ignoring a creator's wishes regarding their content. It's not okay.
I understand that people have lives off of tumblr. Outside of running months. But if you're going to take on the responsibility of a month, you need to be accountable, and you need to respect creators. Especially creators' wishes not to be involved. Especially when a creator doesn't agree with how their content is being portrayed in its involvement.
I don't know who's running crackship month. I don't know what their life is like off of tumblr. But I do know that this whole thing has left a bad taste in my mouth regarding the event and the runner. I'm not saying people can't participate in crackship month, nor am I saying they shouldn't. But I think you should be mindful of your content that you include in it and what you label it as, and even more mindful of how you treat other peoples' content.
Azris is not a crackship. Emorie is not a crackship. Tamcien, Rhyslin, Rhycien, FeyMor, Gwynesta, Morlain, so many others. None of these are crackships. Your LGBT ships are not crackships simply because they are not canon. And people need to stop labeling them as such, whether it's because people are just being outright hateful - which is oftentimes homophobic as well - or because people don't know what a crackship is anymore.
Edit: the runner has responded here and here and I encourage you to read their responses. Again, this was never intended to imply this runner was being purposefully harmful, or doing this with ill intent. It has simply been a long-running issue in this fandom that I wanted to acknowledge.
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bogos-bint3d · 3 months
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Considering Yellow just came out, I'm curious how you interpret Justice!
YEAH IM FINALLY GONNA ANSWER THIS ASK FROM ALMOST TWO MONTHS AGO BECAUSE IM FEELING GOOD
Ok so I don't really know how to start so to get things going I'll begin with some pictures of them
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I have to say, they give me SO many feelings. I originally started work on them long before I even knew what undertale yellow was. My first attempts at drawing them (which you can see in the top left that were used for reference) were done back in June, but I was planning things for them several months before.
I remember them actually being pretty much the very first fallen human who I felt motivated to make something with, because I saw a comic of someone's own interpretation of them. I noticed how in that comic, they went to Mount Ebott intentionally, for the other humans or something, and that was sort of the beginning of my inspiration, but I felt like I could do more with it. So, starting off with that I kinda built on it. I wanted to do something different from what I'd seen before, where they wanted to get justice on the monsters FOR hurting the humans. I remember someone saying something along the lines of them thinking justice was a little bitch, which of course was a valid interpretation, and that's what made me sorta go in a different direction.
For me, I saw justice as someone who would've wanted justice for the MONSTERS, from the very start. They were the kind of person who didn't really believe the legend of humans and monsters, but of course knew Mount Ebott was a very dangerous place. And, yknow, believed monsters were just a legend, they loved to think about the fact that if monsters WERE real, they were probably trapped unfairly. Think about Chara for example. Though they were human themself, they still hated humanity, and felt connected to the monsters. They wanted the monsters to be free and to go against the humans. I imagine justice to have been something like that. Not as much hatred for humans as Chara maybe, but still knowing of all the bad that humans had done, and, being an edgy teen, felt genius for the concept that this ""old """"silly"""" legend"" would probably have been biased in favour of the humans. (which they were actually right about. Good for them 👍🏾)
Am I explaining this correctly? I'm not sure if I am lol
So anyways, yes my justice interpretation very much did not want justice on the monsters once they discovered the legend was true, but rather was very much on the side of monsters getting justice on the humans.
Let's see, what else is there... Ah so as I was explaining before, seeing that comic also sparked the idea for me that they went there looking for someone. They'd usually never even get near to Ebott, however, they end up having to. Ok this part is like it's own separate infodump so like take a breath. So this all ties in to one of my other fallen soul interpretations, integrity. I won't get too into them right now because that is like a WHOLE OTHER CONVERSATION, so for now I am going with the BARE ESSENTIALS. Justice went there specifically to go look for integrity, because in my little interpretation thing, they're siblings. I'll show some quick things about them then straight back to Justice I prommy
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Their name is Leo (I don't have a name for justice yet I'm so sorry Leo is like the only human I've named so far), and ended up on Ebott after a stupid dare by the rest of their ballet class. So anyways after justice finds Leo is like. No where at all. They have to go on over to Leo's dance class cause that's the last place they'd been and ask around the other kids to find out where their 10 year old sibling was because they'd been FUCKING MISSING FOR LIKE SEVERAL HOURS only to find out the other kids left them on MOUNT FUCKING EBOTT, where multiple other children have all DISAPPEARED upon going there. So now justice gotta go to death mountain to find their lost sibling no big deal
I feel much more nervous about talking about my fallen soul interpretations now than I would've, like, four months ago, simply because the presence of uty has had such a grip on the fandom that people have kind of accepted it as canon. I think it's actually a really stupid and petty thing to mad/sad about, because a lot of effort was out into it, and I'm sure it's very very good, but I just, well I guess we all just whish we were the best, right? I'm scared yellow will completely overshadow any other existing interpretations, and people love it so much, they won't care about my own. I REALLY hate myself for this, and I just want to say I think you should all keep loving yellow! It seems really good! This is just my own dumb fear shining through haha
But anyways, enough of that! I'll explain more about the souls another time because if I keep going on right now I might become physically incomprehensible. There is so much more about justice that I'll dump on you all another time, trust me, I just hope you all like what I've got so far ❤️ thanks :)
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sporksaber · 2 years
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A fic outline for an idea I had awhile ago:
I probably wont be writing this though I am considering it, so if anyone else wants to it's fair game just send me the link. If this has been done before then p l e a s e send me the link because I tried to find somthing similar and couldnt.
So internet friends to lovers with danny phantom batman cross over.
I'm using tim because I feel he makes most sense with the trope.
Some timeline things: danny becomes phantom at 15 instead of fourteen. Tim becomes robin at 14, 11 months after jason dies. I want jason to be in the main part of this fic, but the timeline would be messy with that, so here is what I'm going off of: He was dead for six months, resurrected by reality shifting shenanigans, thrown in the pit immidiently after, and then was red hood for a year before the full identity reveal to the batfam.
So danny was a very tech savvy kid with no supervision. As was tim. They meet on some server discussing the home solar system of a popular hero or a heroes published expierience on black holes or somthing like that where their interests intersect. They end up on a specific message board and then a group chat about that topic and later they eventually start talking privately.
Let's say they're 13 at the start with tim a few months older than danny. They grow very close over their shared interests, enjoying the other talk about their personal interests, and commiseration on their parents being neglectful. By the time (insert whatever event happens with his parents that leads to him becoming robin in this au) happens they are very close. They at this point are talking everyday, calling fairly often, and have video chatted. Tim was a bit hesitant talking about his new family but danny couldn't be happier for him.
Jason's reveal and danny becoming phantom line up one after the other (roughly 7 months after tim becomes robin, which is a number I totally didnt have to do physical math for). So tim starts messaging less, and then so does danny with the initial distraction of ghosts and becoming a ghost and a hero and then the existential crisis brought on by the giw and his parents wanting to kill him. By the time things with Jason die down and become more normal six months have past. Tim tries to get back into messaging him consistently after having not messaged at all in a month, but Danny is acting a bit different.
Tim couldn't place exactly why he felt that way and tried to write it off as the result of the time they spent not talking, but he could just feel somthing was wrong. Danny was always easily distracted, but he'd never dropped in and out of conversations like he was doing now, at least not without reasons. And then there was the fact that he was more closed off about his parents than he used to be. Danny eventually mentions giving up on his dream of being an astronaught and his plummeting grades and tim is distraught with the fact that he can't help him.
It was their final video (several months after getting back into messaging) call that solidified Tim's idea of what was happening. It was suggested several times before it actually happened as danny always avoided the idea or came up with an excuse why he couldn't. Tim didnt want to push but he desperately needed more clues and wouldnt cross the line into hacking the information.
Danny was much paler than before and he had deep dark circles under his eyes. The camera was kind of blurry, almost like he had messed with the focus or gotten one that was a lower quality than last time. Overall the call went the same as the ones prior, though danny was a bit jumpy. And then danny shivered violently. He looked scared as he made an excuse about having somthing he forgot to do and hung up.
Tim was feeling lost afterwards. To the point that bruce noticed and asked what was wrong. "I think my best friend is dying."
Danny meanwhile is also having a very not good time. In the nearly year since he became phantom so much had changed. At first it was fine, it seemed fun even. Then it became annoying as he realised school and ghost crime fighting while avoiding capture by your parents didnt mix. And then there was everything with vlad and the giw that made him realize he was screwed if any government entity ever found out his identity. And then the giw worked with his parents and he realized, "oh, haha, my parents could really kill me one of these days."
And then there was clockwork and the ancients and dan. Feeling really off anytime he leaves amity. Plasmius. The fact that he really had died. That even if he managed to fix his grades among all the ghost fighting he'd never pass the physical exam to achieve his dream. That he wasnt considered human anymore by either his parents or the government. The increased number of ghosts coming through the portal.
He hadn't realized how much he really missed tim until they started talking again, but it was hard to leave so much out when they used to share everything. When he finally gave in to the video call he was kind of terrified. Both in the "what if it's different now," and the "what if he notices," way. The first part wasnt needed, the call was great. He forgot how nice his voice was. He could've talked to him for hours, but then his ghost sense was set off. And it was somthing big.
For the first few weeks following the call danny tries. He doesn't want to lose touch with tim, but it becomes too much. Something is wrong and he's the only one who can fix it.
There's a huge issue with the giw still working with his parents for a stronger portal and vlad being vlad and occasionally popping by to shove his entire fist into everyone's pie and then leave again. Danny could believe that was his real obsession. Fisting pies.
Then danny learns that it's not just the portals strength causing everything, its him too. Apparently the ghost king's crown was passed through combat. And the core of the king draws other ectoplasmic entities towards them.
This ends with danny ghosting (haha) tim for several more months until he eventually destroyes both his parents and vlad's portals and all their research. And he couldnt stay in amity at that point, especially since vlad and his parents arent the only ones who know what he did. So he leaves. And with the new title of ghost king he's not core bound to amity anymore.
Danny eventually calls tim. Tim is both relieved and terrified. The call is kind of awkward at first, since they hadn't in awhile. But then danny says he's traveling a bit. "I was thinking of going through Gotham, I heard they have a wicked observatory."
Tim says he cant wait.
*****
That's it on my original fic idea. I wanted to tell it mostly through chatlogs and their calls. I have a lot of other ideas on Danny's time in Gotham though.
I havent gone back over this and theres probably be some small timeline shifting. I want danny to be 17 when he leaves.
But that's all for now.
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