#but not anymore and certainly not by much before

[cutielando]

can you please do a carlos friends to lovers? no smut, i can’t find carlos fluff. reader attends all the races & carlos is secretly obsessed with her & lando helps set them up?

a/n: had a lot of fun writing this one!!

♡♡♡♡♡

You and Carlos had known each other since you were little children. Growing up in Madrid next to the Spaniard had been the highlight of your entire childhood. 

Carlos had always made sure he had time for you, even between his karting races and training, he never felt to make sure you knew he didn’t forget about you, that you were still his best friend and no distance could change that.

Your friendship continued well into your adulthood, well into his career all the way from karting to Formula 1. Albeit, due to the fact that you also had a stable job back home in Madrid and were building your career, you guys saw each other less and less. Settling for phone calls, texts and FaceTimes, you still felt like something was missing.

You missed all the times that you would hang out together on the balcony of your home, drinking wine and talking about anything and everything. The laughter booming in the air, reverberating against your chest, the gentle lingering touches shared between you that you both ignored, knowing it was for the best.

It wasn’t until Carlos signed with Ferrari that things changed.

He had called you as soon as he had got out of the meeting with the team, excitedly telling you about everything that he was promised, what the next season would look like for him after he departed with McLaren; he didn’t miss a single detail.

Yapping about how excited he was for the future, but also how sad it would be for him to not be teammates with Lando anymore. But the sentence that he kept repeating every time you two would talk broke your heart every time: “I wish you were here to experience this with me”

It broke you every time he would say it, the same longing that he felt amplified 100 times over for you. You loved him, more than you sometimes cared to admit, and certainly more than you would ever have the guts to tell him. You had loved him for a while now, but loving him from the shadows and distance was taking its toll on you.

Which is why you all but jumped at the opportunity he offered you to go along with him, attend the races and celebrate with him. He had claimed that he couldn’t bear thinking about the future if you wouldn’t be there, next to him, cheering him on and comforting him whenever needed.

He needed your stability and comfort, he needed to feel you there with him, no longer settling for phone calls while being on opposite sides of the world.

It wasn’t fair, and he wanted to change that.

And so, you packed your bags, smoothed things over at your job and got on the plane, and met him in Singapore. It wasn’t the best race to choose from for your first, the heat and humidity in the air hitting you like a ton of bricks as soon as you had stepped foot out of the airport.

But seeing him waiting for you, leaning against the side of his car, it made everything worth it. He hadn’t even seen you coming before you completely blindsided him and threw yourself at him, wrapping your arms tightly around his tall frame. You both sighed in relief, the feeling of each other finally back together not being able to be compared with anything else.

“I can’t believe I’m really here” you had blurted out, suddenly afraid that it was all just a dream and you would wake up soon enough.

But hearing him chuckle, feeling his chest booming with laughter, you knew it was real. He was there, right in front of you, hugging you like his life depended on him. And for him, it did. He had spent so much time away from you, being deprived of your presence for longer than he would have liked. And now, when he had you right in his arms after so long, he finally felt like himself again, like he had just found the missing piece of his puzzle.

You spent the night catching up, even though you had been talking on the phone the entire time you had been deprived of each other, he still needed a night of talking to you, drinking wine and forgetting about everything else in his life besides you right in front of him.

Entering the paddock had felt more exhilarating than you would have ever imagined. The roaring of the engines and the teams preparing for the races, the screaming of the fans and every interviewer trying to get a word with the drivers. It felt as exhilarating as it felt absolutely nerve-wrecking. 

“Are you okay?”  Carlos asked you once you had made it to the garage.

You nodded, the smile seemingly not wanting to leave your lips. “I’m good, this is exciting” he smiled at that, nodding along.

He left you alone for a while, going over to speak to his race engineer before the race. You had stayed in place, only admiring the garage you had seen so many times on TV, now standing right in the middle of it. 

When he came back, you noticed he had brought Lando with him.

“Y/N, you remember the Lando I told you about. Lando, this is my best friend, Y/N” Carlos introduced the two of you, coming to stand by your side.

“It’s very nice to meet you, I’ve heard many great things about you from Carlos” you said, smiling at the younger driver who shook your hand.

Lando greeted you back, eyeing the way Carlos was standing next to you and looking at you while you and Lando spoke.

You and Lando clicked right away, you now understood why Carlos loved the Brit and spoke so highly of him. You found yourselves a new hobby by poking fun at Carlos, who seemingly internally regretted introducing you to each other. 

As the time to get in the car grew nearer, Lando bid his goodbyes and returned to his garage, only one thought in his mind.

I need to get Y/N and Carlos together by the end of the weekend.

♡♡♡♡♡

Carlos didn’t know who to thank first for winning the Singapore GP. Should he thank God for finally giving him what he had wanted ever since the start of the season? Should he thank the team for finally managing to beat Red Bull and win? No. He didn’t do any of that first.

He went to you.

He found you in the sea of mechanics and family members that had run out at the barriers, ready to welcome the new winner into their arms. But he didn’t seem to notice anyone else apart from you. 

Scooping you up in his arms, his only focus was on you and the feeling of you in his embrace. He couldn't put into words how thankful he was that you were there with him, witnessing this win that the whole team had worked so hard for. The entire season had culminated into this win, and you were there to witness it.

“I’m so proud of you” you whispered once he had lowered you to the ground, his arms still tightly holding onto your arms.

He mumbled something incoherently in your shoulder, but you paid it no mind. You could only focus on him, the feeling of him slumping and relaxing against your body like he always did. 

Unbeknownst to you, Lando had been looking at you two ever since he got out of his car, smiling mischievously under his helmet while walking towards the two of you.

“Sorry to interrupt, but you might as well stop torturing yourselves and just kiss already” he said, making you and Carlos pulled away from each other.

Before either of you could reply, he turned around and left, walking over to celebrate with his team.

Turning around to face each other, not a word was spoken between the two of you, but your eyes were telling a whole different story. You didn’t even think as you stood on your tiptoes and pressed your lips against his, so many years up buried and pent-up feelings finally being free.

The entire team cheered once they noticed what was happening, but you and Carlos didn’t hear anyone else around you. It was just the two of you in that moment, in your own little bubble.

“We should have done this years ago” he mumbled against your lips, making you laugh.

“Yes, we should have”

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[dragon-kazansky]

Bridgerton shade of blue

Benedict Bridgerton x Female Reader

The Viscount is set on finding a wife this season, and you are trying again for your second season. While Anthony is dealing with trials between Edwina and Kate Sharma, you are dealing with trials of your own. Benedict Bridgerton is ever present in your life, but your pursuit to find a husband must come first. Society is ever so exhausting.

{Masterlist}

{Previous Chapter} - {Next Chapter}

Season Two

Chapter Twenty One - The one who sparkles

The next day, you find yourself at the Bridgerton house. Madame Delacroix is there with fabrics, so Violet may choose one for Eloise. Eloise could not care less about fabrics as she reads away on the sofa.

Francesca plays the piano beautifully in the background. You're standing by the piano watching her. She smiles as she plays, lost in her music. You loved that about Francesca. She was so different from her siblings.

Anthony was reading by the window quietly. He hadn't spoken a word since you got here. Not to you or his family.

Elosie and Anthony share a shirt discussion about ladies and gentlemen. Eloise finds all gentlemen a bore, and Anthony doesn't believe ladies can dance properly. His poor toes. He had spent all night dancing with no such luck as to finding his ideal wife.

Hyacinth makes a comment about how she thinks Eloise would be a wonderful diamond. Eloise looks at her youngest sister in her face and says, "I despise you."

They all chuckle.

Violet chooses the fabric she likes best, and Madame Delacroix packs her things. You don't even notice as she leaves that Benedict enters, greeting her fondly. The conversation is short, however, as Benedict's eyes land on you.

Madame Delacroix leaves.

Francesca finishes her piece on the piano and smiles at you when you clap softly. "Wonderful, Francesca. Simply, wonderful."

"Thank you."

Francesca leaves the room quietly, and you find a seat to occupy. Benedict, having been turned by Delacroix, decides to make his way over to you, but Anthony calls for him. Benedict sighs and makes his way to his brother with his sketchbook in hand.

"Are you and the modiste still, uh, making a stitch?" Anthony asks.

"Apparently not. Have you found a wife yet? Or are you planning to offend every girl until there are none left? Is mother aware?"

"Aware of what?" Violet asks, hearing them.

"I'm off to deal with our solicitor," Anthony states. "Have fun with your pretty pictures, brother."

You watch Anthony leave. Violet follows him.

You get up and take the seat Anthony was just in. You lean across the table slightly and look at Benedict.

"You're not playing with her anymore?" You ask, teasing him.

"What are you talking about?"

"Madame Delacroix."

"You know?" He asks, completely horrified by the thought.

"Yes."

"How?"

"Anthony told me. I'm not sure why. Who you fool around with is your business, not mine. You Bridgerton boys certainly keep yourself entertained." You chuckle.

"You seem rather calm about this."

"Why shouldn't I be? I'm not naive, Benedict." You glance at the others. "I'm aware of what some people do."

Benedict is stunned into silence as he stares at you. Seems there is more to you than he first assumed.

"It was just some fun," he says softly.

"I don't care." You tell him. "Do what you want, Benedict."

The smile you give him doesn't offer him much comfort.

At the next ball, the queen was expected to choose her diamond of the season. All ladies in white and gold were presented before her before moving alone. You and your mother curtsied. The queen barely glanced at you.

You both walk on.

"She did not look impressed," you commented quietly.

"She never does," your mother responds.

You sigh softly and stand off to the side. You watch people dance. Spotting the Sharma ladies, you watch them approach the queen and curtsy to her.

They walk away quite quickly. You're not sure what the queen had said, but Lady Mary Sharma didn't seem too happy.

"May I have this dance?"

You turn and find yourself face to face with a rather handsome gentleman. You smile politely and take his hand, letting him guide you to the floor.

Lord Baxtor was a friendly gentleman. He had a dashing smile and seemed very pleased to be dancing with you.

"I saw you at Lady Danbury's soiree," he says.

"Oh? I do not recall meeting you."

"No, I think not. You spent most of the evening rather close to Mr Bridgerton's side."

"Oh... Yes. I must apologise. The first ball of the season, I always find rather daunting. I find comfort in being close to friends," you tell him.

"Yes, I must agree with you. You looked beautiful that night, as you do tonight."

You smile. "Thank you. You look very dashing tonight."

He smiles.

As you both dance, you don't notice Bridgerton's arriving. Violet guides Eloise over to the queen, followed by the two eldest sons.

"Tell me, brother, is there anyone here you haven't rejected?" Benedict teases Anthony.

Anthony does not look amused.

"You're the artist. Do you see anyone remotely inspiring?"

Benedict automatically finds himself looking in your direction despite not knowing you were there moments ago.

"We shall have our diamond tonight, and I shall have a wife," Anthony declares.

The greet the queen.

Eloise manages to make the queen laugh quite loudly with a comment about emeralds.

They bow and leave.

"If the queen, in fact, names Eloise the diamond, who will you marry then, brother?" Benedict asks.

"Hush, you."

The dance comes to an end, and Lord Baxtor escorts you off the floor. You smile at him. He lets go of your hand slowly, almost reluctantly, but he is a gentleman. You watch him walk away.

This seems like a promising start, at least.

You spot Benedict across the room, and he smiles at you. You return his smile. You would go over to him, but the fanfare plays and realise the queen is about to choose her diamond of the season.

You wait with the other to see who she will choose.

"Your presence is noted, and your queen most appreciative. Allow it to now be my honour to present you the season's diamond."

The room is quiet apart from a few whispers.

"Miss Edwina Sharma."

The room fills with applause. You watch the sisters who both smile. You are happy for them. Edwina is elegant, beautiful, has a charming smile, and seems to be a very wonderful person all around.

She will certainly have her hands full within the ton.

You don't notice Benedict, who comes up beside you.

"Disappointed?"

You look up. "Hardly."

"Though, you do have an admirer, it seems."

You follow Benedict's gaze to find Lord Baxtor watching you from across the room. You smile and turn away shyly.

"Then you must make sure to keep your distance, Benedict. I don't want to scare away any potential suitors."

Benedict gazes at you with a slightly confused look. He's not sure what you mean by your comment, but he doesn't respond to it. All he sees is you looking at the other gentleman with a soft smile.

Anthony takes Edwina for a dance around the room, where he is no doubt questioning her preferences.

Kate Sharma seems very unhappy to see them together.

You, however, have a splendid evening. When Benedict realises he is not holding your attention for the night, he leaves. Lord Baxtor wastes no time in coming over to talk to you.

You do not leave his side the rest of the night.

The next morning, you sit in your drawing room with your embroidery. Tea is sitting on the table beside you, and your mother is watching the window. She will hate it if you point out how obvious she is being. With wvery gentleman she sees pass the house she gets excited, only to discover them going down the street to another.

You find it amusing. Your mother looked forward to the next season. She took great joy in all the chaos society provided. You do so adore her when she is like this.

"Is there still time?" You mother asks, coming over to the couches.

"Yes, ma'am." The butler replies.

Your mother sighs and looks around the room. She hoped she had made the house comfortable enough for visitors. She was keen to help impress a suitor for you.

There is a knock at the door, and your mother clutches the armrest beside her with a sharp gasp. The butler leaves to answer the door, and you chuckle at the way your mother begins to fuss.

The butler returns. "A visitor, ma'am."

"Let them in." Your mother stands.

You put your embroidery down and stand up alongside her. You wait a few moments and then the vistor enters. You smile.

"Lord Baxtor."

He bows his head. "My lady."

Your mother smiles from ear to ear and excuses herself to the other side of the room to watch from there.

You invite Lord Baxtor to sit with you. You both take your seats and smile at one another.

"Hello."

"Hello," he chuckles.

"I was no expecting any callers."

"No?"

"I expected them all to be with Miss Sharma this morning," you confess.

"Though she is beautiful to be certain, and I'm sure a wonderful lady, I find myself wishing to spend more time in your presence."

You blush softly as you look at him.

"I haven't stopped thinking about our dance last night," he tells you.

"Oh?"

"Have you... perhaps thought of me?"

"Yes. I must admit I have."

He adjusts his position on the sofa and looks at you rather serious. "I must ask, Bridgerton will not likely be an issue, will he?"

"Why should he be an issue?"

"As much as I love a challenge, I do not wish to be up agaiant a Bridgerton, of all men."

"He is a friend of mine, but should you wish to see where this goes, a can assure you, Benedict Bridgerton will not be a problem."

Lord Baxtor smiles. "Good. Then can I hope to escort you to the races this afternoon?"

You smile. "I would be delighted."

Your mother watches with keen interest as you used this gentlemen seem to get along quite nicely. It was a promising match if she had ever seen one.

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#Bridgerton shade of blue #benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton #bridgerton #female reader #dragon writes

[gyuvxx]

Ghosting

Sungchan x Reader

ANGSTTTTTT SOWWY, fluff at the end, hurt comfort, self doubt, burnout, mentions of twilight

WC: 3k

pt 3 of my lil sungchan series. pt 1, pt 2

YN assumed that all was well in her relationship- situationship? Flirtationship?- the two had gone on their second official date, and hung out plenty of times beside then. She thought she and sungchan were doing great, until he stopped answering his texts. 

They had just seen each other before then- he took her out to dinner and bought them milkshakes. He had spent the night in her apartment, as he had grown used to doing, and they fell asleep playing video games on her couch. He had left the morning after after giving her a kiss on the cheek and saying ‘Talk to ya’ later, cutie’

The first day, YN assumed it must be he’s away from his phone- he doesn’t have to respond right away, and she didn’t need him to. 

But when another day passed, and then another, YN became skeptical. She began to criticize herself for texting him the usual good morning/good night texts when she got no response. Whe texted him asking if he was alright, but got no response. She asked him if he was going to a party Yunjin had invited her to, but her message was never read. She kept trying, but kept getting nothing. She felt pathetic. 

Eventually the days turned into a week, and still no word from sungchan. It confused her- they had been so close for weeks before, why drop her now? A week turned into two weeks, and YN felt herself lose her will to keep trying. Too many texts left on delivered, too little communication to justify her continuing to text a ghost. 

Had she done something wrong? She wracked her brain for anything she could’ve done to offend him, or make him upset, but couldn’t think of anything. She wondered if maybe he was talking to someone else or… maybe he just wasn’t interested anymore. 

She thought about their times together, their first date that was so perfect she almost thought she dreamed it. Kissing him when he showed up at her door, or when they’d snuggle up on her couch and watch movies they never really paid attention to. It all left her wondering what happened. Why was sungchan suddenly MIA?

She just felt… useless. 

YN decided to go out as a pick-me-up. Yunjin walked at her side, knowing of her struggle with sungchan, and more than willing to help her get her mind off things. Regardless of what was going on in YN’s mind, Yunjin was always a great pick-me-up.

“I mean we could go to a party tonight?” She suggested. 

“You know I hate parties,” YN rolled her eyes. 

“We wouldn’t stay long, plus, it’s a mostly girls party. It’s kind of exclusive,” Yunjin wriggled her eyebrows. 

“I’ll let you know if I want to go,” YN replied, her arms locked with Yunjin. 

“Well we gotta do something to get your mind off of sungchan,” 

“Pffft, it’s not like it’s that big of a deal. I’m fine, I promise,”

“It certainly hasn’t seemed like it.” Yunjin watched YN tilt her head to the side. “You seriously haven’t realized you’ve been mentioning him non stop for days?”

YN paused for a moment. “I didn’t think it was that bad,” she mumbled. 

“Oh, it’s bad bad. You can’t stop talking about it.”

YN looked down, embarrassed. “I’m sorry,” she muttered. She didn’t want to talk about it anymore, now feeling too exposed for how she had been really feeling.

Yunjin paused her steps, looking over to her friend. “Oh, no, don't apologize! It’s okay, I understand why,”

“I just feel bad, I really didn’t realize how much it was on my mind,” YN explained, staring at the pavement below her. 

“It’s okay, really,” Yunjin assured her. “It just makes me sad seeing you so sad over a man,” She shrugged, squeezing YN’s arm reassuringly.

“I really liked him though… and I thought…” She trailed off, sighing and shaking her head. 

“And that’s normal. It’s okay to be sad about stuff like this.” Yunjin told her. “Now perk up, cutie, We’ve got a weekend to waste, and a man to forget about.” 

The Two walked around the market, looking at handmade goods, and fresh pick fruits and veggies. For a while, YN began to let her mind wander from Sungchan. She enjoyed her time with Yunjin, joking around and talking about drama that had been going on in recent weeks. It was easy to forget about things when she was with Yunjin, it was easy to forget all her sorrows. 

They heard something from the distance, and perked up once more when they realized there was someone calling their names. 

“Is that them? Yunjin? Yunjin!” someone shouted from the distance, weaving through the crowd. “It is them!” He called, tugging someone behind them. “YN, Yunjin!” They recognized shotaro at a distance, smiling and waving at them. YN froze when she saw who was right beside him. 

Jung Sungchan. The man who had been ghosting her for two weeks. 

YN turned to Yunjin, her anxiety clear on her face. “You’ll be okay,” Yunjin whispered, keeping their arms interlocked. 

YN watched as the two of them approached, and almost immediately locked eyes with Sungchan. She stood there staring at him before tearing her gaze away and looking at the ground. WHen she looked up, Sungchan stood at a closer distance, a smile on his handsome face as he looked at her, holding his hand up in a friendly wave. If he hadn’t been ghosting her for weeks, her heart would’ve melted, she probably would have swooned. But alas, she was in no mood to swoon. 

“Hey guys!” Shotaro greeted cheerfully. “It���s good to see you, we’ve been meaning to hang out,” He nudged sungchan, whose face dropped a bit when YN avoided his gaze. 

“Yeah, it’s good seeing you guys,” His gaze was still fixed on YN, who had her phone pulled out, fingers typing away at something. 

It wasn’t long until Yunjin and Shotaro fell into a comfortable conversation, and Sungchan took a step closer to YN. 

“Hey,” He smiled, his voice soft. 

“Hi.” YN replied shortly. Sungchan took note, shifting his weight a bit. 

“Are you okay?” He asked, slightly concerned. 

“Yeah why?” She lied, folding her arms. 

“You just seem… more closed off.” He thought of their last time together, how close they had been, the stark contrast of this moment compared to then. 

“Well sorry, I’m not sure how to talk to someone who’s been ignoring me for two weeks,” YN glanced at him, voice stern. 

Sungchan furrowed his brows. “What do you mean?” He asked in confusion. 

YN rolled her eyes, not wanting to continue down this path. “Yunjin, I’m gonna head home. I’ll text you about the party,” she said before turning on her heel and walking out of sungchan’s sight. 

“So… why is YN mad at you?” Shotaro asked, taking a bite of his food. 

Sungchan shrugged. “I really don’t know? It kinda confused me.” The look shotaro gave him told him to continue. “She said I’d been ignoring her,”

“Have you been ignoring her?” Shotaro asked, knowing the answer, but wanting Sungchan to hear the truth from himself. 

The hesitancy Sungchan felt made his heart drop a bit, realizing that he had been ignoring her. “I… i didn’t think I was ignoring her,” He pulled out his phone to see the old messages he hadn’t taken the time to look at. “I didn’t really mean to,” 

“Yeah, well, you did,” Shotaro sighed. “When did you last see her?”

“I forget, but it wasn’t that long ago,” sungchan answered. 

“Okay… and when was the last time you texted her? When was the last time she texted?”

“She texted me a couple days ago…” Sungchan put his phone down, taking a few bites of his food, as if he could avoid talking if he had his mouth full. 

“Sunghcan,” Shotaro looked at him with a disbelieving expression.

“This food is really good,” Sungchan didn’t meet his gaze, stuffing his face with more food.

“Seriously, when was the last time you hung out?” Shotaro asked once more. 

“I don’t know, it couldn’t have been too far back,” sungchan shrugged. “I think… two weeks?”

“Two weeks????”

Truth be told, Sungchan had no intentions of ghosting YN. Hell, he barely realized he had been. 

When Sungchan got focused on something, it was almost like everything in the world stopped existing. That something happened to shift from YN, to his upcoming exam. It was the majority of his quarter grade, and in his efforts to study, he had unintentionally ignored nearly everything around him. Shotaro had begged him to go out for an hour or two that day, which was a struggle in itself. 

Needless to say, he had been burnt out, not even realizing it. He barely had been out besides classes, and his social life had taken a pretty big hit. He had been tired, focused so much on passing the quarters exam, that he neglected one of the biggest parts of his life. 

He hadn’t realized until he saw YN, how little time he had spent with her. In his time away, he never had the chance to think about just how much he missed her. Sungchan hadn’t thought much about the girl he liked so much- not because he lost interest, but because he was buckling under the pressure of school. 

Sungchan rubbed the bridge of his nose, sighing in his own frustration. “I know, I know,” he looked up at shotaro. “So?”

“So what?” Shotaro asked.

“So what should I do? I messed up,” Sungchan shrugged, looking at shotaro hopefully. 

“Are you stupid?” Shoptaro asked. Before the younger could question his words, he said, “Apologize to her! You can’t get anywhere if you don’t talk to her,” Shotaro told him. “Make it quick before Yunjin gets involved.”

Sungchan Nodded. “Noted.”

When the two of them parted ways, sungchan walked with his hands in his pockets. He walked to his apartment, making a mental list of ways he could apologize, how he could make things up to her. He was never great at things like that, but he knew that he would change it for her.

When YN got home, her mood was brought down even more seeing there was still nothing from sungchan. It Was partially her fault, leaving before he could get a word in, but logic did nothing to brighten her mood. The worst part of the citation was how much it made her get into her own head. 

She began doubting her bond with sungchan, doubting herself. Was she that forgettable that he could go weeks without talking to her and not even realize? 

She sat down on her couch and pulled a pillow over her head, groaning into it as she laid back. In her own house, with nothing to distract her from her own doubts and fear, she felt the tears well in her eyes. It wasn’t her first experience with heart break, or with a failed relationship, but nonetheless, it hurt. She had let herself get used to sungchan, gotten her hopes up with him. Was she stupid to think they’d be more than a situationship? Tears streamed down her face before she could bring her hand up to wipe her face.

She thought back to their first date, and questioned how she ended up here. Crying on her couch because of a guy who wasn’t even her boyfriend. Crying over the guy who took her out for lunch and who she convinced to stay a little longer. Did it mean anything? Was this just how Sungchan was?

She wiped her tears and turned on her side, resting her cheek against her pillow as her phone lit up with texts from Yunjin. 

Jen: you okay???

Jen: you left rlly fast

Jen: Did he do smth???? I can kill him

Jen: should I come over?

She sighed, not wanting to involve Yunjin even more in her boy problems. 

YN: no i’m ok

YN: thanks tho 🙂

YN dropped her phone on the coffee table, closing her eyes and curling into herself. It wasn’t that late, but the tears streaming down her cheeks, and the flashes of her time with sungchan that came up every so often made her tired, made her want to escape. 

Within a few minutes, she drifted off to sleep, not wanting to think about sungchan anymore, hoping her tears would dry themselves. 

Hours passed, and YN woke up from her spot on her couch. Her back ached from the uncomfortable position, cheeks a bit puffy from crying. She went to shower, dousing herself in water to soothe her skin, and ease the pain that came from her uncomfortable sleeping position. She changed into pajamas, and dried her hair before putting it up. YN knew that since she had woken up when it was late, she wouldn’t be able to sleep well. Given that, she decided to treat herself. She wouldn’t go to another party with Yunjin, she wouldn’t spend her night crying over sungchan, she’d just let herself relax. 

She reached for her phone so she could order herself some food, but a notification made her stop for a moment. 

Channie <3: hi

Channie <3: can we talk pls?

Channie <3: i miss u

YN scoffed at the messages. Two weeks and her turning him down was what it took for him to take interest again?

She didn’t respond and placed an order for delivery. She had Wine in her cabinet that she saved for special occasions (or nights when she needed a little pick me up) and a pint of her favorite ice cream. She brought out her favorite blanket and sat down on the couch, trying to pick what she should watch, settling on twilight because what could take her mind off of things with sungchan better, than a YA romance movie.

She got up and grabbed the wine from her cabinet, pouring a bit into her glass and talking a few sips before reaching around for the ice cream in her freezer. In the midst of her search, she heard a knock on her door. Not realizing it was too quick to be her food order, she went over, and opened the door. 

“Sungchan?”

He stood in the doorway, eyes wide, as if he had ran up the stairs like he had the night of their first date. 

YN just sighed. “What are you-”

She was cut off when she felt his arms wrap around her, his head buried in her neck as if he wanted to crawl inside her. She heard him let out a shaky breath and her eyes widened, confused as to what was going on, and why he suddenly showed up. 

“I’m sorry,” he said into her skin, arms tightening around her. “I didn’t mean to ignore you, I promise,” His voice was soft, almost fragile sounding.

YN was stunned for a hot minute, standing there and letting him hug her before hesitantly bringing her arms to wrap around him, relaxing into his grasp. They stayed like that for a moment before each pulling away. YN led sungchan further inside, leading him to sit on her couch. She sat next to him, an awkward distance away. 

“What’s going on?” she asked hesitantly. 

“I wanted to apologize, and like… explain why i ignored you,” 

YN looked at him expectantly. 

“So, I have a big exam coming up, and it makes up half of my quarter’s grade. And if I failed, my semester exam would also be sunk, so-” He paused. “Not important. When I get into something really intensely, I have a bad habit, that I’m gonna work on, of kinda forgetting everything else. Even Shotaro struggled to get in contact with me. He had to drag me out earlier today.” 

He looked at YN and sighed, seeing her hesitant expression. 

“I really am sorry that I hurt you. It wasn’t my intention, but I know I did, and I promise, I’ll make it up to you,” He reached for her hand lightly. 

YN looked down at their hands. “I thought you lost interest in me,” She said quietly. 

“What?” Sungchan asked, confused if he heard her correctly. 

“I thought You lost interest. I thought you lost interest and started ignoring me.” She said a bit firmer. 

Sungchan’s heart dropped hearing those words. “YN,” he brought his other hand to her cheek, tilting her gaze towards him. “What I did was a mistake. A mistake I promise, I won’t make again,” his thumb brushed her cheek. “And I promise, I swear on everything, I’m still pretty crazy for you,” He gave her a light smile. 

His words made YN smile, intertwining her fingers with his as he leaned in to give her a soft kiss. They wrapped their arms around each other once more, not letting go of each other even as they just sat on the couch, covered by the blanket. 

YN got up when she heard a knock on her door, much to sungchan’s dismay. She brought back the food she ordered, plus the ice cream and wine. When sungchan reached for some, she swatted his hand away.

“Thats not for you,” she shook her head with a playful smile. 

“I thought you weren’t mad?” Sungchan sat up a bit, concerned.

“I’m not, but i ordered these for me,” She poked his stomach. 

When Sungchan stuck out his bottom lip in a pout, pleading for some food like he had been starving all day, YN rolled her eyes. 

“Fine,” she said, and gave him some food, and poured him a glass of wine. 

They found their places back on the couch, snuggled up against each other, sungchan’s arm draped around her waist as she rested on his chest. In the middle of the movie, while the Cullens played baseball, sungchan spoke up. 

He asked her, “Do you want to go on a date tomorrow?”

whoopee!!! I finished pt 3, stay tuned for the next parts, I pinky promise they'll come out sooner.

taglist: @oftenjisung , @vhuteryh, @skzhoe4life, @cheederzchez , @so-lychee , @leehanascent

#sungchan x reader #jung sungchan x reader #riize sungchan #jung sungchan #k labels #riize jung sungchan #sungchan oneshot #sungchan angst #sungchan #sungchan fluff #my love {sungchan} ☆.ᐟ #gyuvxx ᯓ★ #⋆｡°✩riize #riize #riize oneshots #riize x reader

[dovrt]

I am a sucker for sibling Angst, man

Sirius who stayed in an abusive house just to keep an eye on his younger brother, just to make sure Regulus was always safe. He would rather his parents focus all their negative attention on him, if it meant Regulus looked tame in comparison. So that's what he did. He grows his hair long, endures the curses and when it gets too much, when he sees no other answer but to run away, Regulus doesn't come with him.

Sirius who watched his brother grow more and more distant each year until one morning, it was the middle of the war, there were deaths left and right. People Sirius had seen and talked to, people who became corrupted husks of their former selves with no backbones.

Sirius who was rude and blunt, hating Death Eaters with a burning passion, but when it's his brother's name in the paper, he breaks down. Looking after Regulus was his job. He can't help but think he should have done better. No one else could ever hope to understand and there's nothing to be done.

Nico di Angelo who's only constant for ten years had been his older sister. She was there when their mother died, she was there when a weird lawyer took them to a casino, she was there at the weird boarding school.

And then suddenly she was pulling away and Nico was only ten with no clue what to do. Bianca wouldn't listen to him, she discarded him at the first opportunity. And still he couldn't hate her.

They were siblings, cut from the same cloth, with the same blood running through their veins. How could he ever hate her for wanting to live her life?

Nico di Angelo who's sister probably sat with him and let him explain mythomagic to her. They would play for hours, Bianca wouldn't understand half of it, but that was okay, Nico just liked her presence. It wasn't as though she didn't pay him any attention. She followed the game, the cards and the statues, asking him questions and talking about it to cheer him up.

Nico di Angelo who ran up to the first demigod he had ever seen in action, where's my sister?

Thalia Grace who was only seven when her baby brother was born. She would laugh and play with him, because their mother certainly didn't care. She was there when Jason got the scar on his lip, when Jason rolled over, when Jason started to crawl, when Jason learned how to walk, when Jason's first word was "Tha- Tha". It was a while before he could say her name, and even longer until he could say "mom".

Thalia Grace who stayed for her brother and left only for a moment. That one moment. When she lost her brother. And when Jason was gone, there was no more need for her to stay anymore. She was afraid, afraid for what their mother might have done. What if she had too much to drink and in her drunken state did something horrible to her brother. Her brother. Jason had always been hers more than he was their mother's.

Thalia Grace who's last thought before being turned into a tree was probably that she might get to see Jason again (Halcyon Green had basically told her that). And when she wakes up, all she can see is green-ish blue eyes and blond hair and her first thought is Jason but it's some new demigod, a son of Poseidon.

Thalia Grace who found her brother over a decade after first losing him. She wraps her arms around him, pulling him close and telling him about a mother he didn't remember. Good she thinks. Beryl Grace was not a mother he should remember.

Thalia Grace who's baby brother is fifteen when she meets him and she looks almost sixteen, no one could be able to tell they had a seven year age difference between them.

Thalia Grace who's brother died at age sixteen. Older than she was biologically. Her baby brother.

Gone. Again.

#sibling angst #angst #marauders #regulus black #marauders era #dead gay wizards #sirius black #the marauders #nico di angelo #pjo #percy jackson #hoo #heroes of olympus rewrite #bianca di angelo #black brothers #thalia grace #jason grace

[suzukiblu]

Ko-fi thank-you sentences for inkwell; Damian gets a Pocket. (( chrono || non-chrono ))

Damian dismisses the foolishness of such thoughts and takes Beloved with him to the closet and into the back of it, closing the door behind him. He kneels before the low little shelf full of “cubbyholes” meant for shoes and slippers, and reaches into the slim space behind it with his free hand. 

As a hiding place, it is so obvious as to be embarrassing. Certainly beneath the use of any assassin worth their salt, and most especially beneath the heir to the Demon’s Head. 

And so that is why Damian uses it–because no one would ever expect that he would use it. Its contents are far too important to keep concealed, that he would leave them anywhere anyone would ever think to search. 

This is where he keeps his actual sketchbook. Not the unopened one Grayson once gifted him or the one Gotham Academy supplied him with that has nothing in it but dutifully-recorded still lifes and dull assignments; the one he actually uses. 

It’s mostly full, now. He’ll need another soon, though the thought is . . . bothersome, slightly. 

He’ll have to destroy and dispose of this one before he can source another. It’s hard enough to keep just one sketchbook hidden, in his father’s manor. His father does not–trust him, still. Does not trust anyone, really, but most especially not him. So of course he must search Damian’s room when he is not present in the manor, to be certain Damian has concealed no contraband or forbidden weapons or poisons or any other tool of his former trade. 

Of Mother’s trade. 

Mother is not allowed in the manor anymore, after all. Not any part of it or any part of her. 

So of course such things would not be allowed either. 

So of course Father would look, to be certain. Damian has never noticed even the slightest disturbance in his things, but–well. He does not presume so much as to assume he would ever notice Father’s touch in a search that Father meant to be kept secret; to avoid arousing suspicion of. 

Of course he would not. 

Damian is not that foolish. 

He sets the sketchbook flat on the floor; reaches down beyond its place behind the shelf. Beloved chirps, curious but quiet. He seems to recognize the need for discretion. 

Good, Damian thinks, and lays his slim pencil bag on top of the sketchbook. He sets Beloved down on his feet beside it, then unzips it and searches inside it for–there, yes. 

Damian keeps his things meticulously orderly, of course. It’s barely a moment’s search before he finds the tiny cotton drawstring bag he keeps his kneaded eraser in. 

He extricates it, then opens it and takes out the eraser. He prefers not to leave the eraser rattling around loose and grimy in among his pencils, but Beloved’s current needs are more immediately relevant than his own. He can source a replacement for the bag later, or simply resume using it once he arranges something proper for Beloved. 

“Here,” he says, holding out the tiny open bag. “For your clothing, Beloved, if you would prefer to continue to carry it. And rations, I suppose. It will be more secure than the jacket’s pockets.” 

Beloved stares at the bag, and then up at him. His eyes seem very large, and Damian finds his reaction somewhat difficult to read, again. 

“I will of course supply you an improved offering as soon as possible,” he says stiffly, still holding the bag out to him. “This is merely a placeholder, for convenience’s sake.” 

#inkwell #wip: damian gets a pocket

[aannonn]

I FINALLY FINISHED ITT LETS GOOO

(to anyone who wanna read it on ao3 instead! ><)

not-actually-so-funfact; my computer started to burn in the middle of the translation :D (im brazilian so i write my fics in brazilian before translating them to english- xd)

anyways!! hope u enjoy the read just as much as I did while writing it! <3

- , "Ruined. All Ruined."

(updated/fixed) Tags ;

Rating : Teen and Up Audiences Warning : Graphic Depictions of Violence Tags#1 : rated t mainly because of the swears // violent thoughts // threats of violence // whump // self hatred // self depreciation // self esteem // self esteem issues // angst // angst and feels // heavy angst // hurt no comfort // emotional hurt // crying // selective mutism // talking in musical notes Tags#2 : hurt/comfort // comfort // emotional hurt/comfort // emotional // inner dialogue // minecraft mechanics // neurodivergent // {not exactly the focus but y'k- its there} // author is projecting

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Ruined.

All ruined.

   Green sat on his bed, the tie tied carefully around his neck crumpling from the tightness of his knees being hugged close to his chest. A crumpled tie was certainly not something he would take lightly, and he would quickly fix his posture so he could tidy it up and leave it the way it was before, perfect as it should be. But- honestly? Green felt no motivation to do so right now.

   He doesn't understand what he did wrong. Did he prepare too much? Did he create a lot of expectations? Did he let his anger and arrogance get the best of him again?

   Everything seemed perfect, everything was perfect, but then that silverfish suddenly emerged and, in the blink of an eye, everything around him seemed to be shattering; All the months of planning and preparation and so, so many songs he wrote and scratched because none of them felt perfect enough felt like they had been stepped on, crushed and thrown into lava, slowly burning right before his eyes.

   Is not fair. None of this was fair. He worked so hard to get to this moment, to improve his musical skills and impress an entire audience with his music, his passion. His friends, friendly acquaintances - everyone he knew was there - even Orange was there! They were all there for the concert, for the performance, for him.

   He felt like he was on cloud nine, happily boasting about the praise and applause floating around him like birthday confetti, roses being thrown at him as a sign of love and admiration - His friends and family were congratulating him and looking at him with so much admiration and love and affection for his amazing and so well-planned, so well-done, so perfect performance.

   He felt so adored, like the celebrities he saw on YouTube, being praised and complimented and talked about by many, many people, with so much admiration and adoration in their voices when talking about them. He felt so envied, as if several people adored him so much that they wanted to have his talents, they wanted to be him. He felt so loved, friends and family being so proud of him that he felt himself laughing happily, smiling so big that his cheeks hurt.

   ...Then a silverfish rised onto the stage, stepped on his noteblock, and the adoring, gazing eyes of the crowd - of his friends - were on the mob, and suddenly it seemed like it wasn't his concert anymore, but rather a random silverfish who just invaded the stage and stole his place, his audience, his moment.

   Green clenched his fists, bringing his knees even closer and crumpling his tie even more; Is not fair. None of this is fucking fair. He worked so hard for this, he worked so long for this, and now it's all ruined. Everything is ruined.

   The audience applauded and the show was a success, but the silverfish was the one in the spotlight; It was what was being boasted about, congratulated, adored, happily applauded for its' incredible performances.

   Meanwhile, Green was collapsing in pain in the middle of the stage and suffering from a horrible concussion.

   He felt humiliated, awfully humiliated. Shame, disappointment, and anger flooded his entire being, and the moment he woke up in his room, in his bed, with an ice pack on his head and a potions kit right on his desk, the only thing he did was have a staring contest with the ceiling with hazy eyes, his mind was a complete fog as he felt himself swinging his leg from side to side, jiggling it repeatedly distractedly.

   They cheered, the audience cheered, his friends cheered, but none of the cheers and joyful whistles were directed at him, as if the show had never even belonged to him in the first place.

   Green clenched his fists so tightly that he felt the faintest hint of blood coming from his palms, tears stinging his eyes distressingly, falling and spilling and wetting the mattress like rainfalls.

   Small bubbles appeared in his throat and made him let out soft sobs while small melodic notes came out of his mouth, making unbearably unpleasant and hostile noises, seeming as if a million instruments were being played at the same time, forming a loud and unpleasant noise for the ears. Fortunately the canorous notes that came out were small and therefore you wouldn't be able to hear them properly if you weren't close enough to his face.

   He felt so pathetic, so ridiculous. It wasn't even that bad; Everyone in the audience loved and genuinely enjoyed the show, his friends even formed a band and Orange finally played the electric guitar he had after years of not even touching it! So why was he so sad? Why did he feel like his entire world had just collapsed? Why did he feel so angry at the silverfish that only wanted to play with him?

   Because he was so selfish. So selfish and arrogant the little musician.

   He wanted to pull his head off, his stupid head with a stupid brain that only knew how to think about itself - He wanted to find that stupid silverfish and sink the tip of the diamond sword at its' stomach, jab it and stab it and all over again until all that was left of the mindless mob were little white clouds signaling its permanent death.

   He wanted to punch himself, spank himself - He wanted to be vengeful, he wanted to scream - He was so angry at himself, so angry at the silverfish, so angry at his brain, so angry at his feelings, so angry at his friends who didn't even try to help him get the silverfish off the stage and bring everyone's attention back to him, so angry at the world that was never merciful to him, hurting him again and again and again and again and again and again like a fucking punching bag.

   He wanted to isolate himself from everything and everyone to show the world how fucking angry and tired he is right now. He wanted his friends to invade his room to shower him with love and affection, hugs and apologies and promises that they would take better care of him, that they would never try to hurt him again, that they would never let the world hurt him again.

   He wants the world to burn, he wants the world to hold him like a baby.

   He's so selfish. Selfish and arrogant little adorable musician.

   His mind was a fog full of thoughts as his emotions took control, his body swayed slightly from side to side like a mantra, all of this making his brain unable to register the sound of footsteps approaching his position on the bed or even extra weight being added to the green mattress.

   Green jumped when he felt a hand holding his arm gently, rocking his body serenely and distracting his mind from thoughts for a few brief moments. He still didn't take his face off his knees, but he didn't take the hand off his arm either.

   Faint sobs and small musical notes echoed through the spacious house, the fog of dark thoughts in his mind gradually fading until all that was left were just faint sobs and dry tears gracing his face, a few tears still running down his chin towards the bed, small drops of water, some already old, wetting the mattress.

   He didn't register and didn't want to register how long it had been since he and the familiar but currently unknown stickfigure had been sitting on the bed. The stickfigure just rocked him calmly and slowly, distracting him from his thoughts that only got darker and darker, while also giving him time to calm down at his own pace, which Green deeply appreciates.

   Eventually, his breathing seemed to have finally eased and he opened his eyes, raising his head slowly and groggily, somewhat destabilized after the horrible mental breakdown he had just had.

   Yellow's composed and slightly worried face greeted him, the gentle movement of his head cooled off the nervous spasms he felt in his body after his brain had correctly registered the pathetic and disappointing scene he had just made, right in front of one of the last people he wanted for to see him in this state.

   Yellow remained quiet, his hand still on Green's arm as he continued to rock him gently, his movements filled with nothing but pure affection and concern for him. For Green.

   Green raised his head groggily, feeling light bubbles rising in his throat again and a new spiral of crying emerging before he pushed it back by force, several carefully chosen words in his head ready to start a conversation and break the suffocating silence, even though none of them had any actual desire to actually produce real sounds.

   He coughed, a hoarse, noisy wet cough, taking a deep breath - with some difficulty - before merely forcing a sound out of his throat, words in his mind all jumbled together - he just wanted to break the silence, a silence so quiet and still and suffocating.

   - W.. what." His voice was hoarse from crying and small musical notes were muddled with the words, making the words that came out of his mouth a confusing cacophony of sounds and verbs without a correct direction.

   Yellow patted his free hand on his knee nervously, whispering softly; - I just wanted to check up on you."

   Green no longer felt any motivation to actually form words and say them out loud, so he just shook his head sharply and pushed Yellow's hand away from his arm, a small musical note faintly leaving his mouth; a twisted, angry, broken sound.

   Go away.

   Yellow quickly understood the message the older one wanted to convey and tapped his hand on his knee nervously again, a slight, almost imperceptible movement of his shoulders lowering in defeat before he stood up and walked to the door, his steps light, but steady, echoing in the now empty space; where a single green stickfigure sat on his own bed of the same color, hugging and consoling himself from the world that only knew how to hurt. The only sounds that could be heard were his own whimpers and small melodic notes that the form curled up like a ball of the arrogant little musician emanated.

   It's so quiet. The world seemed so much lonelier and more dangerous when it was quiet.

   It's just him, and the world that hates him.

.

.

.

.

   At some point in his breakdown; round two(2), Green fell asleep; spilled tears still dripping onto the mattress while light, dry remnants clung to his cheeks. Honestly, Green isn't sure if he actually fell asleep, all he remembers is that his perception of his surroundings was momentarily desensitized and he found himself lying in his bed, a pair of hands on his shoulder shaking him with enthusiasm to side to side, presumably being the reason why his brain seemed to have regained awareness of his surroundings when he felt a sudden and unexpected physical contact stirring him impatiently.

   Red's excited and unbearably happy face was what greeted him this time, determination and enthusiasm adorning his movements as he continued to shake him the way he normally would when he had done something cool and desperately wanted to show to someone.

   Noticing the slight movement of Green's head moving towards him, Red let go of the shorter stick's right shoulder and jumped back, his arms bobbing up and down happily before grabbing Green's hands and pulling him in a way so that he was now sitting on the bed, relinquishing him and quickly rushing to the door, giving him one last look (still jumping up and down and waving his arms happily) before jumping out of the house, his steps happy and hurried resonating even outside the household.

   Green just stared at the door now open to him, not moving a single inch to follow Red to wherever the latter wanted to show him, an internal debate in his head with the decisions he could make.

   Getting out of bed, let alone walking to the door, seemed like a challenge. His body had little to no motivation to exercise and his head was still a fog that momentarily distracted him from his surroundings. He really didn't want to get up.

   But there would be no more silence if he did. The world would no longer seem so dangerous and immense for him if he went outside.

. . .

   Green sighed, staring at the floor for several long moments before merely forcing his body to stand, stumbling a bit in disorientation after sitting for so long, before practically dragging himself to the door, his slow, sloppy steps echoing through the silent residence.

   The entire time he walked towards the open door, Green stared at the ground, absentmindedly counting the pixel particles of the blocks he passed in his mind.

   He really had no desire to do anything... But the silence he was in was too suffocating and oppressive for him to bear.

   As he walked, Green quickly noticed that the light gradually dimmed with each new block, getting darker and darker until he couldn't even see the color of the staircase.

   Green took his eyes off the floor and raised his head, noticing how the computer's lighting seemed to have suddenly faded, enveloping both him and the programs and the PC's characteristic background in immense darkness - Much like when he himself removed the brightness of the computer to blast his latest music at that time.

   Green straightened up, feeling goosebumps all over his body as he took his cell phone out of his pocket and turned on the flashlight, quickly taking out his diamond sword from his inventory and holding it tightly, keeping his guard up for any possible mobs or whatever it was that could suddenly jump on him.

   He slowly descended the steps, his steps light and careful as he illuminated the darkness around him and kept his ears open for any sign of movement or noise.

   He wonders where his friends are...

   Suddenly, red and orange and yellow and green and blue lights illuminated the computer and momentarily blinded him, causing him to stagger back in fright and throw his sword and cell phone into the air before quickly grabbing the sword in alarm, pointing the sharp tip towards the light source as he vaguely registered the sound of his cell phone falling to the ground with the flashlight still on.

   A stage - his stage - his concert stage - greeted him back, colorful lights enthusiastically illuminating the center of the stage, where stood his dearest friends that he had known for as long as he could remember.

   Friends who also just watched as his concert was ruined by a fucking silverfish.

   Green shook his head sharply to dispel that thought, slowly lowering his sword as he quickly settled down, no longer feeling the impending danger scratching the back of his neck, though that also didn't mean his irritation had disappeared.

   He simply stared at the four(4) stickfigures on the stage, irritation was obvious in his movements as he gave them the silent treatment.

   Blue clasped his hands together nervously, Red dragged his feet on the floor without looking at him while Orange shifted uncomfortably; The only one who seemed more balanced and stressless of all was Yellow, although Green could detect a slight touch of nervousness in the movement of his shoulders.

   None of them said or made any movement as an indication that they were going to break the silence, Green just stared at them demanding an explanation while the others just moved and looked at each other nervously.

   Blue turned to Red, grabbing his shoulder before pushing him forward. Red stumbled before immediately shaking his head roughly and pushing Blue forward, to which Blue grabbing Orange's hand and pulling the shortest one in front of him, pushing him nervously to be in Green's gaze. Orange looked back and forth between Blue, Red and then Green, staring at the ground while rubbing his arms nervously, before finally taking a single step forward before Yellow suddenly stopped him by grabbing his shoulder and pointing at himself, to which the youngest nodded in thanks and quickly went to Red's side.

   Yellow took a deep breath, only taking three steps forward before finally breaking the silence, his voice a soft whisper with varying degrees of guilt and apologetic tone emanating from it.

   - We're sorry."

   Green bounced in surprise, confusion adorning his movements.

   At the sound of Yellow's voice, the other three(3) seemed to find courage and quickly echoed their own apologies with equal degrees of guilt and apologetic tones, a cacophony of voices over one another as they made several sudden and clumsy movements.

   - We had fun but you didn't have fun and that wasn't- It wasn't what- It was not cool. Nothing cool."

   - We're really, really sorry- The show was horrible- It was horrible to you- It was scary, wasn't it? It was terrifying... We laughed but- And- We didn't even think how hurt would you be..."

   - We didn't try to help you when you needed it most, and we completely understand if you- How angry you might- How angry you are and we won't force you to forgive us or anything-"

   Sincere. Genuine. Sorry. Sorry. Sorry. Sorry. Don't forgive us. You don't need to forgive us. We are really sorry. We will take better care of you.

   Sorry. Sorry. Sorry. Sorry-

   - So we thought about- Ah. To repair. Give you the concert you truly deserve."

The firm tone emanating from Yellow's voice quickly interrupted the fog that was beginning to form in Green's head, turning his head towards him to realize that the taller one had raised his hand and stopped everyone from continuing with the cacophony of voices. Of I'm sorrys. Of apologies-

   Oh wait.

   Oh. Oh.

   The stage was for him?

   - I know nothing will fix the damage that silverfish caused- The damage we didn't even try to cease- But." Yellow paused, clasping his hands and fidgeting nervously in his seat before taking a deep breath and continuing; - That's- The concert really mattered to you, so. We wanted to- Give you a chance to- A second chance to. Show to the world-

   - The world being us."

   Yellow elbowed Red. - Your performance. And just your performance only. No silverfish to take your place."

   The stage was practically the same as the show, although it was significantly reduced to fit the computer and not cover the entire space to the point of being almost claustrophobic.

   The instruments from before - from the villagers who agreed to help him with the concert - were not there, just the blocks and noteblocks that had been used previously in the concert. On his concert.

   It was his show. It is his show.

   The stage is his. The performance is his. The audience is his.

   Green just stared at the stage, then at the instruments, then at his friends.

   Millions of emotions flowed like musical notes, the fog in his head forming like fluffy, adorable clouds, and suddenly he felt an immense urge to jump and bounce and play and scream and stim and-

   A single musical note, so small and confused and twisted and broken - yet joyful and hopeful and excited and free - floated from his mouth, the harp-like sound echoing so low that Green is sure none of them would have heard it if the room was not in a complete silent.

   For me?

   Yellow tilted his head gently, Blue touched his hands like he always does when he's excited, while Orange nodded and Red happily waved his arms up and down, encouragingly signaling the older one to come on stage.

   For you.

   Green timidly walked to the stage, Blue and Red quickly helped him by grabbing his hands and pulling him up, Orange walked towards him and gently pushed him to the center where the noteblocks were carefully placed in a way that formed a piano, patting his back in encouragement before going to join Red and Blue on the chairs in front of the stage, sitting right next to Red who was resting his parrots on his shoulders.

   Yellow had the staff in hand, placing his hands on his hips in a sign of lighthearted annoyance, confusing Green momentarily before realizing that the taller stick was looking at the crumpled tie with small traces of dried tears.

Oh.

   Green looked down at his shabby tie, dismay filling him at how careless he had been with his beautiful tie, before perking up when yellow hands suddenly grabbed his tie by the ends and stretched it, trying to straighten it back to the way it was before. Finishing, Yellow walked away and placed his hands on his hips as a sign of pride, while Green just stared at his tie, now even more messy and shabby than before.

   Such a mistake like that would freak him out, reprimand the causer and quickly fix the damage done.

   Now, somehow, he found no reason to care.

   It was perfect. It is perfect.

   Green took the staff extended to him with such delicacy and care, as if the staff would break with a single sloppy touch, holding it close to his chest like a plush.

   Yellow patted his head, touching his forehead to Green's in a tender and gentle manner, before retreating and getting off the stage, sitting right next to Blue and putting all his attention on Green, on the show. On Green. On the performance. On Green.

   All eyes and heads were on him, all attention was on him and him alone.

  Playing his slightly altered melody as he now played solo, he felt on cloud nine. Gloatingly boasting of the enthusiastic applause and whistles of his beloved audience, who adored every performance he performed no matter how imperfect they seemed to him. Of his friends, who would always be there welcoming him with open arms and would help him in any way they could. Of his family, who adore him and love him so, so much.

   It was perfect. It is perfect.

   He is adored. He is accepted. He is loved.

   He always was. And he always will be.

.

.

.

.

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆

#*:･ﾟ #ava #avm #animation vs animator #animation vs minecraft #animator vs animation #alan becker #have a good day/afternoon/evening/night!! <333 #CW ; #rated t #violent thoughts #threats of violence #self esteem #self esteem issues #self hatred #crying #self depreciation #heavy angst #inner dialogue #whump #selective mutism #talking in musical notes #angst and feels #hurt no comfort #TW ; #eyestrain

[lxmelle]

I think it’s safe to say both Gojo and Geto had a problem opening their hearts after they separated. Like an emotional scar they never resolved.

It’s kinda Husband & Wife-coded imho. (Husband&Husband, Wife&Wife, whatever - you get my drift).

Geto at his death asked about his family. He wasn’t concerned about how they’d mourn for him or considered if they’d want him saved, etc. Like the scrolls adorning the back of the temple, he didn’t view himself to be much if he couldn’t be strong - punishment to the weak and foolish.

Gojo upon the lead up to the battle seemed to believe he would win either way (aligned with what he told Megumi) and that wasn’t bothered with his body - but he admittedly did feel annoyed that his longest living friend, Shoko, wasn’t upset on his behalf. (I HC that I think he understood that there was no other person who had love for him like with Geto.)

Spoilers for 261:

Given the circumstances, Shoko also had to do what was necessary to support him, regardless of her feelings towards the request. She has always been respectful of boundaries I think. More avoidant with her feelings (remaining stoic) rather than ambivalent. She is a medic after all... you have to put aside your personal feelings.

To some extent both Gojo and Geto it difficult to regard themselves as worthy of loving and genuine care. People may have cared like Geto’s family etc. but the problem lies in their ability to recognise and reciprocate it. He felt alone and couldn’t smile sincerely in his life. It was easier for him to give love than to receive it.

Gojo had a few students who did, but they perhaps came at a time too late (it was mere months after Geto died?) where he didn’t have the time to actually open up his heart too much in the end... before he was sealed, and then had to make the decision to enter the battle. Fortunately, by that time, he didn’t feel lonely anymore as he said in ch236 after death, but there was certainly a line where he didn’t feel he could be understood by others. He was born too different, perhaps? His pragmatic and callous facade made it difficult for others to get close enough to see the real Gojo Satoru. A part of it was about unparalleled strength. The magnitude of it. It wasn’t something Sukuna understood either, since he never knew love and lost it.

We can see that Gojo held different standards for Geto than he did himself though. In the anime many speculated that he was bringing the bouquet for Geto’s grave (or something similar). He must’ve given his body back to Mikiko and Nanako (or hidden it) because he didn’t have it processed & cremated by Shoko, (which would’ve been completely adhering to the orders of the institution). He also wanted to reclaim it for a proper burial from Kenjaku.

This feels so much like a husband & wife thing.

Widowed Husband goes: “Ah, just toss my ashes in the river.” But will get his wife flowers for her grave, ensure she has a clean gravestone, no weeds growing on her plot, leaves a plate out during anniversaries, etc.

Gojo’s love for Geto is also very Yang-coded (which is inherently more male) where he will cling on unwaveringly and there is something about reverence in how he patiently accepts Geto and tried to fulfil everything he wanted. In this sense, where he is portrayed as a loyal widower, he may surround himself with friends, activities, look after the kids, etc. but he will always honour and cherish his wife until his dying day.

Geto who is Yin-coded loves maternally, self-sacrificially. She will be willing to make sacrifices for the sake of her kin. Even if separated from her husband, she will nurture and build a family around her, uncomplaining. She may appear to cope on the surface, as she is used to her emotional needs being unmet without her partner/Husband, until her own dying day.

This is totally anecdotal of course, but to give myself some credit, I’ve talked intimately with more than my fair share of people in grief to see a pattern (and understand it in a personal level too)... we all grieve differently, love differently, value different things...

This is just my two cents. Any thoughts?

Feel free to comment or reblog with your own take.

#just some thoughts #of course they’re not really afforded the time to grieve #all characters in jjk probably have ptsd #or they will have ptsd by the end of it #satosugu #satosugu brainrot #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #geto suguru #stsg #goge gego #satosugu yin and yang coded #jjk grief #gojo analysis #geto analysis #jjk brainrot

[angry-geno-is-score]

any larsdunn post retirement (like in their 40s) type headcannons?👀👀👀👀

Just got off a 13 hour double so excuse me if this is incoherent BUT:

They remain Ryker's Dads so they go to all the games that they can, nag at him about eating right and doing his laundry, and feed him on the weekends (he insists he needs to be an "adult" and live on his own, so he moves out a few seasons before Vince and Adam retire. Vince cries for three days straight and still occasionally gets emotional when he uses the lemon dishsoap that for some reason reminds him of when Ryker lived with them.) Obviously Ryker misses his dads, so he goes and visits them often (plus no one can cook like Vince can, certainly not him or Tye).

Adam gets really into different kinds of tea. Vince complains endlessly about how an entire cupboard of their (massive) kitchen is taken up by exotic teas, even though he's the one who bought them for Adam. He also complains about having to drink the tea, even though he's never once refused a cup from Adam.

Old man married sex. Vince absolutely strains a hip flexor at some point.

Trips. to. Sweden. They have a second house there. The house has a pool because Vince wants to lay around and sunbathe and Adam wants to watch him lay around and sunbathe. (He might or might not do so naked.)

While Adam works out endlessly to maintain his Godly Physique (it's just ingrained in him at this point), Vince lets himself be a little softer. He's able to eat all the ice cream and past he wants to, after all, and getting up at an ungodly hour of the morning to run with Adam is NOT gonna happen (though he's not opposed to other forms of cardio in the morning, wink wink). Vince gets a lil tummy and some round lil cheeks, and Adam goes fucking FERAL over it. Those thighs? Adam would be happy to let them suffocate him.

Vince gets really really into cooking. He branches out, tries new things, becomes a master. He also accidentally becomes the Mom of the new rookies that keep coming to the Kraken, because first he cooked for Ryker and Tye, and then it was Shane and Frosty, and then it was--Yeah, it just keeps going. He's not complaining (well actually he is, but on the inside he actually likes it.)

They become really gross and really affectionate with each other because they don't have to give a fuck about anything anymore. They're middle-aged, rich as fuck, hot as hell, and head over heels in love with each other. Ryker can't take his dads anywhere in public. The time he tipped a waitress fifty percent because she walked around their booth to check on them and witnessed Vince and Adam tongue-kissing in a public restaurant was the LAST TIME.

This was sooooooo much fun anon!!! Thank you so much for the ask! :D

#larsdunn #dunnernlars #headcanons #anon asks #ask game #sleepover asks #hrpf things #vince dunn #adam larsson #ryker evans

[haveyouseenthisskeleton]

What would push them far enough to kill?

Undertale Sans - Pretty much having really no other choice. Sans is not a killer, he's even one of the most empathetic monsters around. He's against any sort of violence and will always try to talk before anything else. If he has to kill, it's only after being cornered and all his previous attempts went unheard. It's the last solution.

Undertale Papyrus - Unlike what most people think, Papyrus could kill in self-defense or to protect a friend or his family. Very easily, actually, as he has a titanic force that could even knock Undyne's down if he really wanted to. But Papyrus chooses not to use it because his own strength scares him. But that doesn't mean he won't use it if the situation is very urgent and threatening. After all, it's a tactical advantage. No one would expect sweet Papyrus to transform into a warrior in two seconds, which can completely change the issue of a fight. So far, only Flowey is aware of it. It's a secret he intends to keep hidden.

Underswap Sans - Even if he doesn't like that, it happens he has to kill people as a police officer. It's a hard decision to make, with consequences, and being a guy who hates to deal with consequences, Blue will always choose another option if he has the choice. He's quite good at fighting and is often faster than his opponents which helps a lot to disarm someone before they can do more damages.

Underswap Papyrus - He could never. Honey is not a fighter, far from that, and with his anxiety, he could never find the strength to end a life. He's way too empathetic for this, and all sorts of violence makes him sick. Even cornered, he couldn't find the strength to fight back, trying to talk to the last second.

Underfell Sans - He hates that, but he will do it to protect himself or his brother. He killed in the past. He will certainly kill in the future. Red had been hurt too many times to give threatening people a chance because he knows determined people rarely change their mind. Killing before they can is the best he can do. He never kills before someone threatens him or a friend though.

Underfell Papyrus - Underground, he had no limits. Being a target, he didn't have any choice but to kill every person threatening him or his brother, out of fear they make things worse if he let them live another day. A lot of these kills are driven by past traumas of the rare people he trusted and they revealed themselves to be killers in disguise. He promised it would never happen again. On the Surface, he's more reluctant to kill, but he can't help the instincts to kick in once in a while. If he's alone and someone is threatening him, he attacks without remorse.

Horrortale Sans - No, thank you. He's done with all of this. The only reason he could kill is to protect his family, with no hesitation. But most of the time, he's chill. Oak wishes to never kill a human ever again, as it wakes up traumatic memories. He's not the survivor he was Underground anymore, he moved on.

Horrortale Papyrus - He can't kill, not anymore. Willow is deeply traumatized by what he had to do Underground, and the simple sight of blood can send him into a panic attack. He might hurt people in this state, but never to the point of killing them. He refuses to cross that line again. He never wants to hurt someone ever again.

Swapfell Sans - He's a cold-blooded killer. His LV is way too high for him to feel anything anymore when he's taking lives. Since he's still general of the royal guard, he has to kill people and execute some others. That's his job. He doesn't hesitate either to get rid of people that can be a threat to him or his brother. He hates his job, he hates he has to take lives to live a normal life, but what else can he do? His hands are tied.

Swapfell Papyrus - Oh, he can kill when the situation is very desperate and he has no other choice. He's not feeling that much remorse either. Rus grew up thinking murder is a normal way to solve conflicts so... When he can avoid it, he avoids it. If he has no choice, he has no choice. That's life.

Fellswap Gold Sans - He can kill in the blink of an eye. Wine thinks all people against him are possible threats and that it's better to eliminate the threat than wait for it to attack. He doesn't feel any remorse, as he has the higher LV of all skeletons. He's completely disconnected from reality, which makes him so dangerous. To defend himself or his brother, he can do everything. The only reason he's not in prison is because no one managed to arrest him and stay alive longer enough to reach the prison quite honestly.

Fellswap Gold Papyrus - He can defend himself when needed, but he's far from a killer. If he kills someone, it's purely by accident, trying to save himself or his family. He knows how to do it, Wine taught him to survive, but he could never do it willingly, which is mainly the problem and why Wine had to protect him so much Underground. Coffee is just born in the wrong universe.

#undertale #underswap #underfell #horrortale #swapfell #fellswap gold #sans #papyrus #undertale ask blog #undertale asks #undertale imagines #undertale headcanons

[goldnsyren]

— When will it be enough? (m.) pairing: gojo satoru/oc (noa hasegawa) genre: angst, touch of fluff wordcount: 𝟷920 cw: JJK 261 SPOILERS

tags:

Note: Does it count as a comfort fic if all I comforted was myself?? Anyways, spoilers so don't read. Can be read as reader since technically no descriptions given.

“Why are you so upset?” “They’re talking about you like you’re dead!” “It’s just a backup plan. I’m fine . I’ll be fine, promise.”

“Satoru,” his name was like a prayer on her lips. A siren call he had no choice but to follow.  Gojo stopped and turned to appraise his wife. Noa’s brow was furrowed, and her bottom lip jutted forward disapprovingly as she stayed at the doorway. Oh. She was serious.

Doubt darkened her expression. “I don’t like it. What if-”

He grabbed her by the chin, silencing the rest of her argument with a kiss. “You worry too much.”

“Always.” She didn’t deny it. As far as she was concerned, someone had to look after the idiot— her idiot. He certainly wasn’t going to.

Gojo couldn’t help but smirk as he wiped away the steak of blood from her cheek.

His stupid smile, calm and confident even in the face of such overwhelming power, lulled her as it always did. She should have seen the mischievous-manic glint in his eye. Instead, she was distracted by the foolish promise she had desperately wanted to believe. “Have some faith. I’ll see you later.”

Those had been the last words he’d said to her.

There was no “goodbye” because that would be overdramatic. No false promise of “I’ll be careful!” - he never was.  And certainly no gut-wrenching sentimental  “I love you” - it wasn’t their style.

Just -

I’ll see you later.

He lied.

Noa stared unblinking into his eyes - a new emptiness to their once lively blue hues - searching for that glint once more. The vortex of calculated curse energy and cheeky mischief that swirled within them was gone. Dull and lifeless, it felt almost like a stranger starred back. 

She brushed the hair from his face, calm and steady - with the most delicate of pressure massaging his forehead and scalp. The same way she always did when he had a migraine and overworked himself. Again and again, her fingers comforted him. A soothing motion - if not for him than for her. The air vibrated in her chest, a song just for him, even if she had no voice left to hum.

With vivid imagination, she could picture them at home. Satoru would throw himself on the couch and drop his head in her lap like a spoiled cat. A tell-tale scrunch to his eyes, he’d pick up her hand and plop it on his head in wordless command.

No one does it like you, Gojo whined. It was the closest admission to ‘ I need you’ he’d ever make. Noa never made him ask after that. 

“Better?”

“Much.”

Noa continued anyway. His migraine would fade, his shoulders would ease, and the deep, steady breaths of sleep would slowly take him. 

She’d keep her hand in his hair as he softly exhaled, relishing in the soft rise and fall of his chest.

But this wasn’t home.

His head rested in her lap as she knelt on the dust and glass-strewn street. The hand that didn’t thread his hair cupped his face with a lover’s gentleness. Bowed over him, she silently wept. 

“Get down here before you fall on your head.”

“C’Mon, you’re telling me you don’t wanna try the Spider-Man kiss, not even a little?”

She didn’t care about the blood soaking her. Some hers, some his, and a lot of others spilled in there, too, she was sure. What did it matter anymore? Her thumb rubbed back and forth across the cold skin of his cheek. It smeared the congealed blood that hemorrhaged from his mouth. 

She regretted every kiss she didn’t take.

“Hasegawa-sensei,” Yuta’s voice seemed hollow.

She didn’t respond.

“Noa,” Shoko tried this time.

Her back and arms ached something fierce. A sharp pain seemed to weave between every joint and vein in her body, pulling taunt and beckoning her towards the ground. The exhaustion of overtaxed curse energy. 

The weight of grief. 

And yet, like an excellent little sorcerer, she persevered through the pain for the sake of the mission. The same mission she had dedicated her life to since she was tasked with it.

Protect Satoru from himself.

Noa may have been oblivious to the tension and strife of the sorcerers around her, but she was hyper-aware of every almost invisible pore on her husband’s face.

“Will you love me when I’m old and wrinkly and as ugly as those old farts?”

“Satoru-”

“Even if I looked like gramps-Gakuganji?”

“That’s just ridiculous.”

“...is that a no?”

The corner of her mouth twitched on its own accord at the memory. Her fingertips caressed the wrinkle-less forehead below her, her nails lightly scratching against the soft white strands of his temple as she pulled away to repeat the motion. Touch, oh, what a profound thing it was to be able to TOUCH him. She could count on one hand the number of times he’d turned off Infinity outside their home the past ten years. He hadn’t gone a day without it since -

“I’m here, Satoru. You can sleep; I’ll keep watch.” It was as much a promise then as it was now.

“Is she even listening to us?”

“Give her a minute-”

“We don’t have-!”

“Hasegawa-sensei,” Yuta’s voice broke through the back argument as he stepped closer. “we have to start-”

“ No.” Cold and firm, the croak was enough to still them all. What little curse energy she still had flared around her wildly in warning. No one dared move closer.

Protectively, possessively , Noa remained bowed over Gojo’s corpse. A renewed anger steeled her features as she kept her eyes on the vacant stare of his unseeing gaze. Aren’t you tired, Sato’?

Exhausted. But I suppose there are no days off for the strongest, he’d humbly bragged.

“Noa…” She felt Shoko more than saw her. The reverse-curse user kneeled beside her, a hand resting comfortingly on her shoulder. “It’s what he wanted.” 

“Don’t - “ Noa mouthed, the sound lost in her constricted throat. She flinched, forcing Shoko’s hand off her. A new set of heavy tears squeezed from her eyes. Don’t encourage it. Her initial lack of refusal to this plan had been enough of a betrayal already.

Shoko folded her hands in her lap but did not break from Noa’s side. The raspiness of her breath gave away her stifled tears. Of course, she hadn’t objected to the plan. It was a fleeting idea, a one-in-a-million possibility that she never thought would come true.

Satoru Gojo - the Strongest sorcerer - was dead. 

“I’m sorry,” Shoko whispered. An apology for so much more than just silence. Her voice was lower than expected, burdened by what had occurred and the part she was about to play after.

“It’s our last chance.” Kusakabe reminded her.

Noa’s breathing stopped. The pulverized mass that was once her heart seemed to sink further. With every ounce of strength she had left, she raised her head to look into the eyes of Kusakabe in challenge.

“He’s my husband .” The word cracked and squeaked as it was forced from her choking throat. She stared the sorcerer down until he looked away, ashamed. Noa’s torment was clear as day as she looked at her students and peers with an undercurrent of anger and mistrust.

“Sometimes I think you forget I’m the strongest. You don’t have to worry about me.”

“They treat you like a god; someone needs to remind you you’re a man.”

“You humble me.”

“It’s my job.”

“But I’m your man, right?”

“Till death do us part, baby.”

Fuck Death. They’d have to pry him from her cold, dead hands.

Noa’s voice gained its strength as her anger rose. “He’s not some cursed object, you shit-head. He’s-he-” She couldn’t find it in her to finish. No word seemed apt.

Nonetheless, Yuta understood. “I know.” His mouth was set in a grim determination as he crouched before her. Haunted eyes showed his remorse, but the set of his jaw conveyed his determination. He was certain she would forgive him for his betrayal one day, even if he didn’t live to see it.

“Love’s the most twisted curse of all,” Gojo had once told them. It makes Monsters of us all.

“You don’t ,” Noa replied, just as a matter of fact. They had protected their students from so much... Their strength had been paid for in blood, and pain, and the destruction of youth. All for the sake of the children in their care. And now one such boy stood before her, waiting - begging - to be stolen away from his own youth and transferred into a man who’s soul was already shattered. Did Yuta know what it was like to watch a child beg you to let them die? No. “You wouldn’t ask me if you did.”

“I’m not asking you,” Yuta nodded to the corpse she still cradled so dearly. “ He is.”

Noa’s gaze fell on Gojo’s vacant one.

“What do I care what happens to my corpse?” His voice rang in her ears. “I’m dead!”

I care, she thought. I care so fucking much. Heavy tears spilled anew as she forced herself to be objective. 

She had never deluded herself into believing in some fairytale about retiring and starting a family in the countryside. The elders, the curses, the world wouldn’t allow it—not for someone like him, not for The Strongest. But there had been plans—so many plans …

“I’m so tired, Satoru. When will it be enough?”

“When we’re dead.”

Again, Satoru was wrong. Not even that freed him from his curse of strength. Was it too much to ask to be left alone in death? 

We are good people, and we’ve suffered enough.

“He knew what he was agreeing to.” Shoko’s glassy brown eyes shared her anguish. “He knew we  needed   him.”

“He didn’t know it was an option.” She thought aloud. Rest had always been a foreign thing to him. Her conflict was evident as her eyes darted across his face. She search for a sign, any at all, of what he truly wanted her to do. His once blue eyes, always a reminiscent twinkle of the boy he once was, were now dark and cold. They stared up at something - and yet nothing - above.

Who are you? , she wanted to ask the corpse. 

“If the option is a proper burial or you living ?” Shoko interrupted her dilemma. “I know which he’d take.”

The widow’s face twisted in new grief. Gojo had never been the type to say love , but there wasn’t a day that passed that she was sure of what he felt. 

Her right hand clawed desperately at the shoulders under the black T-shirt to anchor herself. It’s just flesh, she reminded herself. Heavy tears spilled anew, following the dried tracks of her previous silent bout.  She stifled the angry scream that threatened to tear from her.

He’s gone.

They don’t have to be.

With a wobbling lip, Nao could only find it in herself to refute the logic of her head with the anger in her heart. The only argument she could form in her grief-addled mind.

“You’re wrong-” Even defeated, Noa’s voice was steady. Her hooded gaze turned to Yuta. “He never wanted this. ”

Yuta Okkosu and Megumi Fushiguro would surpass Satoru Gojo as the strongest sorcerer. They would die because of it.

Noa released her death grip. She did not move, nor speak, as Gojo’s corpse was taken from her. All she could think was

When will it be enough?

“When we’re dead.”

Every last one.

…Suguru was right.

#jjk spoilers #jjk 261 #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo x oc #gojo x reader #gojo x oc

[bardicious]

Looking up character info on X-Men characters, and... god, it's not great is it. Oof.

#Between Rage and Serenity #xmen #cherik #xmen movieverse #xmen dofp #xmen first class #xmen apocalypse #just for some inspo #holymolly thats some trash writing #I think dc was a little less insane once upon a time #but not anymore and certainly not by much before

[thelaurenshippen]

Hi there! I started relistening to the bright sessions (as one does) and had a random question come up. When did you know that Mark/Sam wasn't going to be endgame (romantically)? I know in s4 they both fall apart separately and together, but even in Safehouse pt 2 (my absolute beloved) they argue about their coping mechanisms. Did you know then that they weren't going to end up together? How did you come to that conclusion?

hey!! this is a great question - I definitely did start the show thinking they were endgame and that's mostly what I was thinking at the time of safehouse too, despite their issues. I think it was really in writing Season 4 actually, when I realized that I was no longer telling a story about two people in love working through their issues, but was instead telling a story about two people who were in love but realized they shouldn't be together in that way. I started to feel those tension points in Season 3 (I would say the safehouse episodes were a true attempt for them to learn to work through their issues), but it wasn't until planning S4 that I really made the decision.

there are a lot of things that led to this that I'll try to articulate, because the honest, simplest answer as to why the plans changed was "because it felt like they should". but if I were think back and pinpoint a few reasons for that...

there was never supposed to be a love triangle. Mark was always bisexual but he and Damien were never supposed to develop feelings for one another. but the first time we got Andrew and Charlie into a room and read through their first episode together it was like "oh, OH-kay" (which, sidebar: clearly I was writing something between them subtextually because it wasn't like Andrew and Charlie were strangers to each other - I'd watched them act ALL sorts of scenes together in acting class but the romantic chemistry popped OUT with Mark/Damien. pretty much from the second motel episode on, I was writing leaning into that dynamic). that threw a lot of spanners into the works because while I never had plans to put Mark and Damien together, I hadn't anticipated Mark grappling with feelings for someone else.

similarly, I'd underestimated just how flawed Sam was. Sam is not a bad person, but she sometimes doesn't really know how to be a person who cares about other people. when you add that to the dynamics of Damien and Joan kind of, like, hovering over Mark in various unproductive ways (for Damien, it's destructive and invasive; for Joan, she's just a too-involved older sister sometimes), Sam becomes another person who is kind of, like...controlling Mark, or trying to, because she loves him and doesn't know how to (I mean, I'm pretty sure I'm just regurgitating actual lines I wrote lol). this is not to say that her flaws make her unable to be in a relationship (Mark is also deeply flawed!) but just that their flaws clashed against each other in ways I hadn't planned.

finally: Joan and found family. in my mind, there was something grand and romantic about Sam meeting Dr. Bright so that she could be led to Mark - like they were somehow always fated to meet. in actuality, it's not that at all - instead, the bond that Sam and Joan have is just as important as the one she has with Mark, albeit different. I don't believe in soulmates personally, but I've always liked the idea that you have people out there. soulmates in a more general sense - people you click with, have a connection with. it can be romantic, familial, friendship, work or creative partnerships, whatever. I think the Bryant siblings and Sam have that. I think Sam and Mark are meant for each other but in a non-exclusive way and in a...maybe not non-romantic way, but a way that doesn't have romance at the forefront. they love each other deeply and they fit, but a romantic partnership might not be the best way forward for them. and Joan and Sam are the whole heart of the show to me in some senses. as I was writing the finale, I very intentionally ended with the two of them - both because the final appearance of every character is in order of when they first appeared, but in reverse and also because the show starts with both of them in dark, destructive places and while there's broken trust between them throughout, they ultimately help each other get better. I thought Sam's story was about finding love and it was, but that love looked differently than I had planned.

okay, god, this has gotten waaaaaay too long and rambly. I hope this answers your question? one of my favorite things/the thing I miss most about making a show like TBS is being able to shift things based on chemistry/what the actors bring/etc. so often now, I'm writing entire seasons of things and then handing them off to production, in which anything can happen! the flexibility of recording episode by episode in TBS is something I took full advantage of.

thanks for listening and relistening!!

#the bright sessions #sam/mark #also in case anyone is curious as to why I DON'T do that anymore #don't write/record that way #the answer is money it's always money #we could do that in TBS because for the first two seasons no one was getting paid #and then from there ppl were getting paid but badly #and I was doing everything for free #so we didn't need efficiency of budget #whereas now I'm able to record a few episodes in a day #which is mUCH more budget efficient #ANYWAY #answering this question before I've finished my coffee on a monday morning was certainly a choice #I'm sorry if it is INCOHERENT #lauren answers things

[eeriehowl]

the way bel found a family that actually loves him, despite how they may all act on the outside, while rasiel was met with individuals who would let him be eliminated for their ends in a heartbeat. say what you want about varia not caring for each other, they don't actually feel that way. they have each other's back in the end. xanxus is there to kill rasiel when bel couldn't. he did not do it for bel's sake, but he was actually there to follow up on the havoc rasiel was raining down. rasiel? rasiel had no one to fall back on. not a soul was going to help him against xanxus' wrath.

after being introduced to rasiel and having him reveal how much he belittled bel, how he was allegedly constantly rubbing in his face that he was better than him, it's beautiful karma to see bel not being alone anymore. he's not the 8 year old kid that had no one to rely on except himself. he has a family.

what's especially heart wrenching about knowing their backstory properly is that you find out why bel acts the way he does. suddenly, we are told that rasiel's treatment of him is the source of so much of what makes up bel as a person. it clicks. i still most often see people thinking of bel as conceited, but i really don't see that. not with the context of him looking completely blank when rasiel says that he was always better, no smile, no retort.

when bel lets down his guard with lussuria in the manga interview, he is extremely dismissive throughout. he is in no way excited to talk about himself. he even says that he doesn't want to stand out too much at the end section of one of the volumes where characters comment on fanart. this kind of humble comment doesn't exactly fit the way people around him tend to view his vanity. bel's desperation while fighting as soon as he bleeds also seems like...more than just flashbacks to that fateful night that he killed rasiel. it's like the inferiority complex he must have built up kicking in, he has to win, he has to get validation that he can win. he can't keep losing like he did repeatedly to rasiel in the past. again, i have to emphasize that rasiel says that bel was always worse than him and bel does not speak out. the one who everyone would see as egotistical does not say a word to defend himself. just silence. not even a hint of annoyance. this all sounds like i'm just taking things from canon and making a headcanon through that (which is fine), but then you realize that bel's only dislike listed on his "vongola 77" character page is himself. bel calling himself a genius & making his royalty a statement is sometimes simply just for mischief, a funny excuse he likes to throw around, and other times a cover. maybe a few times, he actually believes it. when he succeeds.

on the other hand, rasiel fully believes that he is better than everyone else. i have no doubt about that. even when bel won once, he still thinks bel is inferior. that bel is trash in comparison to himself. but in the end, he got destroyed by bel's boss who labels *him* trash. throwing that straight at his ego.

#lord knows xanxus has belief in his officers so he wasn't concerned about them when rasiel suddenly showed up #just like he acts unconcerned every time squalo 'dies' before the rainbow arc......that is how much faith he has in their skill #and that cool reaction is also an ideal way for him to simulate distance #probably can't get my hands on it anymore but...also thinking about the story from one of the light novels where bel needs a dentist #he runs away because he doesn't wanna go and then xanxus actually sends varia to get him if i remember correctly #jgksrjgkrsjkgjksr #a khr ramble??? we are back in 2014 #also not trying to say that i think rasiel is the scum of the earth here but he sure is a dick #i like his character regardless #i certainly would like to see more of how it was after the ’death’ for him #khr 0

[bbreaddog]

.

#personal #health is scary and frustrating and pain is constant and confusing and every test is coming back with nothing which apparently means #nothing is wrong except for the fact that everything is wrong #i wish i could live like i did back in the before times #I’m so glad my students cancelled this coming monday #I’ve been put through the fucking blender with the lid off this week #i need all the rest i can get #I’m so. I’m so frustrated at how my parents can witness me attending appts 4 days a week. and still wonder if I’m better yet #or still think I’m healthy again #whatever the fuck that means #even if i was healthy i don’t think I’d be as healthy as before #i certainly can’t do as much as before #i just wanna go back to before #i don’t wanna be in pain anymore #i don’t wanna see doctors anymore #I don’t wanna be sick anymore #at the very least i just wanna know what the fuck is up with me #of all the pain and bleeding and exhaustion #not knowing the cause of it all is the worst part #i may become a hermit for a little while #queue will keep running

[sntoot]

no way no way the last time i drew xenoblade was 2018 what the fuck????????????

#//my stuff #the inevitable march of time never fails to surprise me #the real question is how do i still have the majority of the xb1 outfits memorized.... #drawing xb1 canon outfits changes you........ #holds my head in my hands my oldest ffxiv art is from before 2022 #i guess at some point here i will do redraws bc i may as well????? because it wasn't yesterday that i did these things anymore????????????? #sadly i dont think my art has improved much but its good in that the things i was working on and felt like i got good at stuck with me #bc im most certainly way faster now than i used to be lol

[golden-explosions-main]

Survey Program, go to...the First Meeting,

There is a shift. Things move faster yet faster on the screen. A house is made. A tree is explored. It all moves by in a blur. By the time it finishes slowing down. It's somewhere you haven't seen in a while. That School. The Camera locks on a far younger Suzy than you last saw. Following her as she steals Ham Sandwiches. Stuffing them away in her arms when no body looks. She seems to get redirected to the field. Trying to make her way to hide out somewhere to have her food. She overhears a fight. Investigating it she spots a ring of spiked vines trapping others in over a confrontation. She stands by as a dodgeball rolls to her. She picks it up. Clutching it close as she witnesses the fight from an outsider's perspective. Across the field the human and monster principles approach the commotion. Following along is the Other Frisk. She throws the ball up in the air with a surprised kick reaction at the sound of a whistle.

INTERFERENCE ENABLED

The ball freezes. Redirecting itself back down to the Other Flowey. Hitting right where it was meant to. ... At the principal's office. The trio each are brought to talk about their perspective of what happened.

HOST RECALIBRATION

The perspective moves to focus on the Other Flowey. Briefly showing their side as it snaps back.

Suzy seems to brush off whatever that was. Holding her head for a minute.

As Suzy is the last to talk. She passes by the Other Frisk holding the Other Flowey. She looks neither of them in the eye.

FOLLOWER SENT

That Clam Girl you hadn't seen since Waterfall bursts in the room. Talking to Suzy. Asking if she was ok. As she talks the Program runs off some previously made choice.

INTERFERENCE ENABLED "You did not. Perhaps it was nobody at all." "Does a punishment for him seem that fitting in the grand scheme of things?"

The principles seem... unsure of themselves as they talk. Letting Suzy and Clam Girl go as they are left to ponder on that push of direction.

Flowey: "As much as I'd like to go on and on about how funny and cathartic it is to see my younger self getting smacked in the head by a dodgeball, I have something else more important to talk about,"

Flowey: "Like, for instance, what did Clam Girl mean when she said that? Does that mean the other me didn't get expelled from school??"

Frisk: "I'm not sure why you're making it sound like a bad thing-,"

Flowey: "That's because it IS a bad thing! EXPEL HIM FROM THAT HELL SCHOOL! SET HIM FREEEEEE!!!"

Frisk: "At least the other me got to spend more time with the other you at school....they also got to spend more time with you acting like a cranky baby,"

Flowey: "YOU'RE ONLY ADDING TO MY POINT! Six or seven hours of space between us for five days in a row is healthy and for the best!"

Frisk: "Mhm, I know you're just saying that,"

Flowey: "I SAY A LOT OF THINGS, FRISK!"

Flowey then calms down: "Ahem...anyways, this confirms it, the Doctor is responsible for changing and manipulating that timeline, however, it looks like Clam Girl is one of their followers and is Suzy's caretaker, I'm not sure how I feel about it, but at least she seems harmless,"

Frisk: "Yeah, hopefully Suzy is happy with the change,"

Flowey: "Mm...she was stealing sandwiches and looked miserable, but eh, maybe after making friends with you, things will turn around for her,"

Frisk: "I'm sure you have the potential to make her happy too, you're a lovely friend when you get comfortable with a person,"

Flowey: "Eh, you're biased,"

#undertale ask blog #flowey ask blog #flowey #frisk #flowey the flower #teen!flowey #teen!frisk #Survey_Program #Mun: I was confused about why Suzy was given a dodgeball and not a basketball because those were certainly flying everywhere #but then I realized that a basketball would have knocked Flowey OUT (can flowers get concussions?) #it would have made Suzy look really bad #Flowey truly hated his time at public school #he had to be carried from class to class by Frisk... he really felt like he stuck out like a sore thumb and it was embarrassing #and I think other kids would have to carry him because he and Frisk would eventually not have the same classes anymore #BUT I think that once he got his 1st and 2nd potbots that things would get better for him #He probably would have gotten comfortable enough to make few friends #I know I'm rambling but I've never really touched on this subject much before #I am now imagining Flowey escaping his flower pot and hiding in the school vents or school attic and skipping classes #what a deliquent