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#if you think that bad you should hear how great i get off topic when telling a story to MYSELF.
bumblingbabooshka · 9 months
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-Remembers how T’Pring looked as she watched Spock & Chapel vanish into the bathroom together after seeing them kiss on the bridge (which she knew was for a mission and didn’t hold against them but perhaps she could sense something there since they do have feelings for one another), maybe attempting to calm herself and her suspicions as she’s left alone again (and later finds she’s been left out entirely this whole time) and how she doesn’t know that Spock almost told Chapel he loved her then and there, with T’Pring in the other room waiting, and how Amanda and Sevet both think she could have more confidence in herself and how T’Pring thought that she and Spock were in this together (her holding his hand, subtly letting him know to pour slower so the tea flowers would bloom correctly, a whispered ‘well done’, the ritual is over mother) and how mere hours after she expresses to Spock how she feels: Like he doesn’t trust her, like he doesn’t care to include her in his life, how she’s trying her best to show him that she will accept him wholly, how she wants to be his partner instead of an adversary or an obstacle, after all this he’s found Chapel within the hour and is kissing her.-
#I've seen people say 'it's not technically cheating because-' and once you've hit 'technically' in MY opinion it's pretty much cheating#'taking a break' isn't synonymous with being able to kiss/have sex with other people - that's something that needs to be discussed#in my opinion...BUT ALSO. Even STILL. Not even a goddamn DAY went by.#T'PRING!!!!!! SAVE MY GIRL T'PRING!!!#Can you imagine hearing your fiancee who you ostensibly like tell you (very vulnerably - especially for a Vulcan: I didn't mind this bc I#personally assume that Vulcan partners WOULD discuss and talk through feelings though probably with a different goal than humans)#that she feels hurt that you seem to not want to include her in your life and that she feels you should take a break#and then IMMEDIATELY going to find the girl you have a crush on to tell her that you and your fiancee are taking a break and that you feel#bad about it and then IMMEDIATELY after that you're KISSING her??????#didn't feel TOO bad about it then huh!#Anyway I'm not earnestly like incensed I'm tv angry on T'Pring's behalf - love the drama bc I'm experiencing SNW from a very particular POV#I will only be angry if they make T'Pring into the bad guy somehow (like if the NARRATIVE says this is correct)#also off topic but I personally think star trek has had enough 'Vulcan culture is bad and restrictive' episodes/talking points - Enough.#Find some joy and peace through connection to an alien culture PLEASE.#I get it humans are great humans are so much freer and happier than Vulcans humans rule - Enough.#-turns to camera with a smile- anywaaaay I watched the episode once and I couldn't rewatch it for this post so <3#if any of this is wrong just chalk it up to bad memory <3#snw spoilers#idk how long an ep has to be out for that to apply#also just so everyone knows - I /do/ think it's stupid that Spock forgets how to act Vulcan when he turns fully human#but I also just expected it since star trek writers LOVE bioessentialism#I have NO doubt that if Spock turned Klingon he'd suddenly start talking about honor and being rowdy despite those things being#learned and cultural v_v#I SAY ALL THIS...and I DID like the episode! I'm complicated <3#<- just likes episodes with fun hijinks as their thesis and also T'Pring is there
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thetarttfuldickhead · 4 months
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It’s a little unclear, in the end, how the conversation gets there, because all in all the Richmond dressing room isn’t the site of that many sex jokes, not since Colin came out and no longer feels the need to make them. But they’re still lads, yeah, and young, mostly, so the jokes still happen, even if it’s just gentle ribbing, and silliness.
So: somehow, one morning halfway into Roy’s first year as head coach, the topic turns to sex, of the rougher variety. Roy’s only listening with half an ear, he’s busy sketching out the new trick plays Nate’s dreamed up on the whiteboard, and he doesn’t really catch the build-up, but when Jamie’s name is mentioned his ears perk up without him even really noticing. It’s become instinct at that point, keeping track of Jamie (even as Roy does his best to give all his players at least some semblance of equal attention).
“We know that Jamie likes it rough, though,” Zorro says, and the rest of the group oh:s and ah:s either knowingly or in surprised glee.
“Eh?” Jamie sounds startled by the assertion, but not particularly put off. (He never really is, as long as he gets attention, Roy thinks with an internal scoff that’s far fonder than he’d ever admit to.) “What makes you say that?”
“You told us!”
Out of the corner of his eye, Roy can see Jamie shake his head. “I don’t know what you’re on about, mate.” Still not bothered, but clearly not understanding what Zorro is getting at either.
Isaac throws him a disbelieving glance. “You don’t remember, bruv? It was when you first came here, before you started going out with Keeley.”
“Yeah,” Colin interjects, “You’d only been here for about two weeks, I think, but you came into training with these marks and bruises, and it turned out you’d hooked up with a girl the night before, but you hadn’t known she was a professional dominatrix before you got to her place.”
Hoots and titters at that, delighted and amused but not unkind.
“Exactly,” Zorro says. “And you told us you’d just gone with it because you have to try everything at least once, and it hadn’t been bad.”
Ah. Roy remembers now. He’d already been absolutely fed-up with Jamie’s attitude, the arrogance and selfishness and incessant need to put others down, and the striker’s total lack of shame and casual smugness about the marks had rubbed Roy entirely the wrong way. Not because people should be ashamed for liking that sort of stuff, of course (Roy wasn’t), but there was such a thing as common decency and unspoken rules about not parading around the dressing room like you were in a fucking porno or some shit and—
If Roy was honest about it, he’d mostly been pissed because it was Jamie, and everything Jaime did pissed him off back then (though, to be fair, most of what Jamie did back then was fucking shitty, so it’s not like Roy was wrong to be pissed. Most of the time).
“Oh.” Jamie’s voice is soft, suddenly. Small, in a way that has alarm bells going off like air raid sirens in Roy’s head. “Yeah. Um.”
The realisation hits Roy a second before it does the rest of the team, and his ears are already filling with a terrible ringing as the room falls silent behind him. He can feel himself grow rigid with rage, and with cold, curdling shame.
“Shit, man,” Isaac says eventually.
“Jamie, I’m so sorry.” It’s odd, the way Colin’s earnest, unhappy voice seems to be coming from so very far away.
“What?” Zorro, still not getting it, and then he does, and Roy, at a great distance, can hear his face crumpling. “Oh shit, Jamie, I didn’t mean—“
“No, don’t worry about it, man. It was a long time ago, yeah? It’s fine.” It’s a heroic attempt at sounding casual. Might have succeeded, too, back before they all knew Jamie as well as the do now.
Roy doesn’t stick around to hear the team offer their comfort and Jamie try to wave their concern away. He walks into the coaches’ office, and the only reason he doesn’t slam the door as hard as he can is because he doesn’t want to draw attention to himself. 
“You all right there, Coach?” Beard looks up at him from behind his book, brow creased in quiet assessment.
“Oh my God, what happened?” Nate jumps down from the desk he’s been perched on. “Did someone die?”
And Roy wants to tell them to fuck off. Wants to punch the wall so hard it stops his mind from spinning. But he’s been talking with Dr. Fieldstone about that, hasn’t he, how his maladaptive coping strategies are tripping him up, and fucking over the people he cares about in the process.
So he takes a deep breath. And he doesn’t look at them when he starts talking. “Back before Ted came here Jamie came in with these bruises all over his chest and back one day, and he told us he’d had sex with a fucking dominatrix. And I believed him, okay? I just… I fucking believed him, even though it was weird fucking bruises for— That’s not the fucking point. But because I thought he was an arrogant fucking prick and I fucking hated his guts, I told him— “ He trails off, looking up at the ceiling. Uselessly, his cheeks are burning. Maybe his eyes are, too, if he’d let himself feel it. “I told him I’d be happy to pay to see someone give him a trashing. Give ‘em extra if they knocked a couple of his teeth out so he’d shut up for once.”
Beard doesn’t say anything, but he leans back in his chair with a look on his face that lets Roy know that, yeah, he’d fucked that one up good and proper.  
“Oh,” Nate says. “So it was his dad who— That’s— But— I mean, that’s not good, obviously, that’s awful, but it’s… It wasn’t you who hurt him, Roy. And I mean, you and Jamie have said all sorts of thing to each other. Done all sorts of things.”
And that’s true, isn’t it. And mostly Roy is happy enough to write it off as tit-for-tat, old foolishness and bygones, Jamie a prick and Roy sometimes an idiot, and they’re both better now. And he doesn’t know how to explain to Nate and Beard how knowing that Jamie looked up to him ever since he was a kid, knowing that he never took that poster down, even after that, after everything, makes his casual cruelty and failure to protect Jamie all the harder to bear, even if he hadn’t known at the time that there was anything to protect Jamie from.
“Coach—“ Beard begins, but is interrupted by a knock on the door, and before Roy can tell whoever it is to fuck off, Jamie sticks his head into the office. Must have made his escape from the rest of the team, then. “Sorry, Coach, are we getting started or what? The lads— “ He catches sight of Roy’s face and his eyes widen. “Jesus, Roy, what happened? Are you all right, man?”
Under other circumstances, Roy might have found it remarkable how quickly and effortlessly Jamie makes the switch from Roy’s respectful star player to Roy’s friend, his entire demeanour changing as he moves into the room. As it is, Roy doesn’t say anything, but he must have made some sort of noise or moved some sort of way, because Jamie’s face twists in alarm, and then he’s across the floor and gently but firmly pulling Roy into a hug. “There, it’s all right, man, I’ve got you, lad, it’s all right.”
Roy blames all the fucking therapy he’d been doing for the past eight months for not pushing Jamie away but instead allowing the other to hold him, and allowing himself to hesitantly wrap his arms around him in turn. Fuck Nate. Fuck Beard. Fuck the team. Fuck anyone who thinks they get to have opinions on that.
He’s got an inch on Jamie, but Jamie’s broader, solid and strong. Steady, as he puts a hand on the back of Roy’s neck, murmuring nonsense that Roy knows is supposed to be soothing, and which maybe is. Mostly, it’s reassuring to have Jamie there, whole and hale and safe.
“What’s going on? Is Phoebe all right? Did something happen to your sister? Keeley?” Jamie is starting to sound a little freaked out, and Roy realises that he can’t just stand there mutely forever and let the fears grow in Jamie’s mind, he needs to fucking say something, explain.
He’d rather never say another word.
Tough fucking luck, Kent. “Do you remember what I told you when you said you’d had sex with a dominatrix?”
The way Jamie stiffens tells him that, yeah, Jamie does. “Roy—“
Roy tightens his grip, not wanting Jamie to pull away. “Don’t fucking tell me it was fine, because you were a nightmare for the rest of that day, you were absolutely fucking horrible to everyone.” Worse than usual, lashing out—not that Roy had known it at the time, or had thought it anything more than Jamie being a fucking prick for no other reason than to be a prick.  
For a few moments, Jamie doesn’t say anything. Then he lets out a long sigh, relaxing into the embrace and pressing his face against Roy’s neck. “Yeah, okay,” he mutters, “it was all shit, mate. I mean, all of it was, it wasn’t just you— But, Roy, listen… “ And now Jamie does pull back, just enough so that he can look at Roy. His eyes are tired, but the set of his jaw determined. “You fucking hated me, right? Back then, I mean. You hated me, ‘cause I was a prick, and I hated you, ‘cause you were a bitter old cunt.”
There’s no fucking denying it, is there. Roy gives a sharp nod. “Yeah, but—“
“No, let me just— I’m not saying that makes it all right, yeah, I just— You hated me, okay. But, would you have said what you said if you’d known what really happened?”
Roy’s lips twist into snarl. “What? No! Of course I wouldn’t fucking have— “ He might have ached to put Jamie’s head through a wall several times a day, but he wouldn’t have stood by for Jamie’s piece of shit father—
“See?” The little twat has the audacity to look triumphant at that, as if he’d scored a particularly neat goal. “That’s what I’m saying, yeah? Even when you hated my guts, you wouldn’t have said that, if you’d known what was going on. But you didn’t know, ‘cause I didn’t want you to, or anyone to, and I’m an amazing actor, yeah? So, like, it’s not fine, but it’s… Don’t beat yourself up over it, man. You didn’t know.”
It’s absolution, the kind Roy doesn’t think he deserves and the Jamie is far too quick to offer. But Jamie is also right: Roy hadn’t known. Wallowing in guilt won’t do anything to change the past, or help Jamie now.
“All right,” Roy says. “But that was still a shit thing to say and I wish hadn’t done it. You never deserved any of what that arsehole did to you, and if… fuck it, when I made you feel like I thought otherwise, that was my fucking bad, and I’m sorry.”
Jamie nods. “Yeah, okay. Thanks, man.” And there’s a tremulousness to his faint smile that makes Roy think that for all his claims to the contrary, it had still been something Jamie needed to hear.  
It does Roy’s fucking head in that Jamie’s been up to see his dad several times since he got word that James Tartt is in rehab. But they’ve argued about that already, bitterly, and Roy has very reluctantly admitted that it’s not his call. All he can do is offer Jamie whatever support he needs, whenever he wants it.
Clearing his throat, Roy gives Jaime an awkward pat on the shoulder before carefully extricating himself fully from the hug. “We’re still on for dinner with Keeley tonight?” He’ll make Jamie’s favourite dish, he decides. Throw in some dessert.
“Yeah, of course, yeah.”
“Good.” He jerks his head to the door. “Go on then, tell the lads to get on the pitch, and we’ll be there in a minute.”
“Yes, Coach.”
As the door shuts behind him, Roy turns on Beard and Nate who – wisely – don’t say anything.
“I don’t want to fucking talk about this,” he tells them sharply. “I don’t want you mentioning a fucking word of it ever again.” Because maybe he’s gotten to a point where having a fucking breakdown and hugging it out with Jamie in front of them isn’t the end of the world (even if it’s a near fucking thing), but if someone tries to make him discuss it, he’ll need to start head-butting people, and he’s been trying to stay off that since he became manager, because it just isn’t a good look, is it, and he’s trying to be better about that sort of thing.
Nate and Beard glance at each other. Roy doesn’t really care for the knowing look in their eyes, but they merely offer a nod and a yeah, yeah, of course, sure in reply, and that will have to do.
In this messed up world, a lot of things would have to fucking do.
“Right,” Roy says, already moving to follow Jamie. “I’ll see you on the fucking pitch.”
---
A/N: This was supposed to be the fourth of the stand alone ficlets I call The Locker Room Conversations, but it got quite a bit darker (and less team focused) than I usually do for those, so I’m not sure. I’ll sit on it for a bit, maybe fiddle a little, and see where I put it when it goes up on AO3 eventually.
If you like the idea of the team uncovering sad truths about Jamie’s past and are into heavier angst (and more of the team taking care of Jamie), I highly recommend checking out i should be the poster kid for this shit by anotherlongstoryshort / babytarttdoodoo
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This question might be off topic..👀 or strange perhaps.
In your opinion , how do you think other Strawhats if each of them were in Luffy's place instead and instead of Ace , Luffy died at Marineford?
I am trying to find a way to draw other Strawhats but slightly having troubles with finding best devasted like poses/things they's do upon such trauma☆
This wound up focusing a lot more on the long term aftermath than the initial devastation because I believe it would be pretty similar for everyone (whole lot of screaming and crying), but I hope you still find this useful or at least fun to read.
In the event of Luffy dying at Marineford, everyone would be in shambles. Whitebeard (assuming he lives) would offer them a place to stay on his ship while they regroup and try to grapple with the trauma of what happened. He isn't forcing them to join his crew or anything. They're free to go whenever they please, but he would also welcome them with open arms should they choose to stay.
Zoro splits off almost immediately and returns to his life as a bounty hunter. He is very much still pursuing his goal, just in solitude. He is constantly being inundated with invitations to other pirate crews, but he rejects all of them (sometimes violently). Luffy is the only person he will ever all captain. He blames himself a lot for his death. He was supposed to support and protect his captain, but he failed miserably. He's even more cold and removed than he used to be, and he'll never let anyone else in again. He also drinks more, to the point that it becomes genuinely concerning.
Nami also leaves, but takes more time to do so. She claims that she's only going back to Cocoyasi village temporarily so that she can process everything that has happened around familiar faces, but she never sets foot in the Grand Line again. Luffy was her safety net. Even in the most scary and intense situations, she could find solace in the reassurance that Luffy would be there to handle it... But now he isn't. He's gone forever and she feels lost without him. The Grand Line is much more scary without him leading the way. She will eventually start venturing around the Blues, but that is it.
Usopp cannot handle the survivor's guilt. He latches onto the Sogeking persona to cope after Luffy's death. It becomes extremely rare to see him without the mask, and he doesn't even respond to hearing the name Usopp anymore. He wants to go home so bad, but he can't bring himself to. He can't stomach having to look everyone there in the eye and telling them why he's back. Now would be a great time for Yassop to step up and be a father, but he's nowhere to be seen so Whitebeard steps up to the plate. He supports Usopp and actually talks him through the intense grief that is choking him. It takes time, but Whitebeard does succeed in making Usopp take of his physical and metaphorical mask by properly addressing his emotions on the matter. Usopp decides to stay with the Whitebeard Pirates and accepts becoming one of Whitebeard's sons.
Sanji is devastated. He wanted to leave immediately, but waited around for Nami to be ready to go before heading back to the East Blue. Sanji goes back to the Baratie and refuses to talk about what happened. He blames himself intensely for not being there for the battle and fully believes that it's his fault that Luffy is dead. On top of his smoking habit, he starts drinking. Everything feels so hollow now, and nothing will fill that emptiness. The only times that Zeff or the other Baratie staff members get a glimpse of the old Sanji is when Nami stops by to visit with him. Even then, he's much more subdued. He never really recovers from this and has abandoned the idea of ever finding the All Blue.
Chopper is inconsolable after Luffy's death. He feels like a failure as a doctor for not being able to save him even though there was nothing that he could do. He also chooses to stay with the Whitebeard Pirates and becomes Marco's apprentice. As devastated as he is by Luffy's death, he copes with it relatively well by throwing himself into an education. He does becomes obsessed with curing Whitebeard, however. He can't stand to watch two captains die back to back.
Robin up and vanishes as soon as night comes. This breaks her. She fully believes that Luffy's death was her fault. Someone finally loved and accepted her and look what happened to him. As far as she's concerned, she's cursed. Naturally, she distances herself from literally everyone. She refuses to let anyone else die because of her. She'll spend the rest of her life in solitude, and it probably won't take very long for that to happen.
Franky goes back to Water 7 with the Thousand Sunny after confirming that the Straw Hats were disbanding and that no one else wanted it. He makes the ship into a memorial for Luffy and takes meticulous care of it. While the death absolutely does hurt him, he copes with it the best out of anyone. He is no stranger to grief, and he bounces back relatively quick. He works for Galley-La designing ships, as well as doing so as a hobby.
Brook is similar to Robin in the sense that he believes that he is cursed. He finally let someone in and joined another crew, only for the captain to die almost immediately. He resolves to never join another pirate crew. Unlike Robin, he doesn't completely sink into despair. He pours all of his pain into music, and you can find a lot of clear inspiration from Luffy and other Straw Hats in his music. He also takes the time to visit Laboon whenever he can. He doesn't want the poor thing to be abandoned all over again.
Bonus round for Ace. Ace will never emotionally recover from this, and his grief is messy. He alternates between hysteric sobbing and an uncontrollable rage. One moment he'll be begging a god that he doesn't even believe in to give Luffy back and take him instead, but the next second he'll be destroying everything in arms reach while scream his throat raw. He's cursing Luffy for being a damned martyr. For putting himself somewhere he had no business to be. For leaving him to pick up the broken pieces in Luffy's wake. There is a noticeable improvement in his psyche once he reunites with Sabo and realizes he isn't the last brother left alive, but he is never truly the same after Luffy's death. It should have been him. He is very much at risk of dying not long after Luffy because if Garp doesn't kill Akainu, he will. And he will die trying.
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gaoau · 2 months
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you'll never resemble a human, so stand up on your claws and kill your own God
theory of the two demons warnings — this is set in the bsd beast universe, so if you havent read/watched that, i do not recommend reading this. theres spoilers and it probably wont make much sense anyway if you dont know what the fucks going on for everyone else that has read beast, have fun word count — 5.5k note — bonus 😝😝
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"have you ever heard about the theory of the two demons?"
"i haven't. what does it say?"
"that to combat a great evil, you need an even greater evil. say, for uprisings against the government, the government can suppress the people with forced disappearances, for example."
"so it's bad against worse?"
"precisely. it cancels out. it reaches a point where evil is just the norm. a demon against another demon; do you get it?"
"i see. like… fighting fire with fire. only a demon can kill a demon."
"yeah, that's… that's a good analogy."
"where did you find this theory? it seems interesting."
"that's not important. i just thought you'd like to know about it."
"why's that?"
"so you don't resent me after i'm dead."
"i'd be surprised if you're actually mortal at all."
"now that's a very cursed thing to say, [Name]."
"my apologies, boss."
[Surname] [Name] is not required for his plans by any means, Dazai knows, but there's a needle of an unnamed feeling pricking him on the back of the head. he sits in Mori's office, reading old newspapers from two or three years ago. it's his latest special interest, so Mori doesn't question it and keeps supplying him with new material. but Mori also questions it, because Dazai doesn't give anything that isn't worth it the time of day. it is an interesting topic, he admits, but it raises his suspicions just as much.
strange murder cases across Japan are not uncommon, what with ability users running wild. he tries not to think much of it. he can't, though, not when Dazai excitedly gasps, "Mori-san! this one could be useful!" as he points to a particular article from Nagoya. spontaneous deaths concentrated in a relatively small radius—likely the work of an ability. an interesting one. one that Dazai knows he doesn't need. one that Dazai hears murmurs of from unilateral memories.
Mori hums, "what is it?" he wonders what could have possibly caught the demon prodigy's eye. but as soon as he glances over to the newspaper and the bold kanji from two years ago, a chill runs down his spine.
"spontaneous deaths, no signs of physical trauma or any diseases, unrelated and irregular victims," Dazai starts listing off. Mori knows this case like the back of his hand. "it's clearly an ability user, wouldn't you agree?" Mori's had his eye on this one for the past two years. "probably a child, too, seeing how erratic they are."
Mori thinks Dazai is aware of a lot more than he's letting on.
"we should fetch them like we did with Q. they might be an ability worth having in the mafia's arsenal."
Mori blinks blankly at the cunning child staring right back into him with an unassuming grin. suggestions of a mind with normal thoughts, those abnormal people wouldn't be able to fathom. because Dazai is not special, however his schemes may play out. he offers him a smile, a bit more strained than he wishes to express. "okay, Dazai-kun, i'll leave that to you." 
and a parallel story comes to life—a story where kids can't cry, but they can pray for their lives.
it's easier to find something when knowing exactly where to look for it. Dazai doesn't waste any time paying a visit to the ruins of a research facility in Nagoya. whatever shall be rebuilt from these remains, he'll make sure it doesn't impact his plans. admittedly, he doesn't know what is waiting for him at the next location on his to-do list. among the rubble and the blood, he finds a stainless steel bracelet. he knows who it belonged to and he knows where to keep it for the sake of repentance.
after his short detour, he makes his way to Shizuoka. he's all smiles and innocence when he speaks to the lady in charge of orphaned children. when he's allowed inside and the woman calls [Name]'s attention, he hears the echo of a gunshot ringing in his ear. he remembers cursed words meant to follow him in every new page.
[Name] is sitting on the floor, leaning against the wall and taking up space as their legs are stretched out. one of their little brothers—Dazai doesn't know which one—sits against them, holding a book. as soon as the woman calls their name, [Name]'s head shoots up. they pat their sibling on the shoulder, chuckling at their childish whining, before approaching their beckoning mother. she introduces the two to one another with a warm grin and promptly leaves them to talk in private.
as they're sitting outside, watching children of all ages play with a ball, Dazai presents them with the cheap bracelet. "do you recognize this?" he prompts them to take it, but they don't budge. they scan the jewelry with their eyes briefly. then they shake their head. Dazai sighs, returning the bracelet to his pocket.
he lets silence settle between them, leaving space for [Name] to ask any questions. without stained walls and dying children, he wonders what this version of [Name] has to say to him. how sharp are their teeth? how deep do they bite? how much do they burn? but they don't look at him as they say, "i don't know who you are or what that bracelet is." they flinch when one of their siblings falls face first on the grass. their eyes are soft, without any trace of fear. "why are you here?"
amiability and [Name] are dissonant, Dazai thinks, but truth stands that the looming cloud of anger clinging to their shoulders doesn't exist here. he considers the many paths he can take them down, between violence and comradery. "listen," he starts, choosing to stand neutral where he knows he shouldn't disrupt, "it's your choice, but the ability you have—" [Name] snaps their neck towards him, "—is very useful, and a lot of less than nice people will come to get you for it." 
the last time [Name] used Mirror Mirage was two years ago. the last person to ever know about it was a man in a lab coat. "i'm past using my ability. it's been long enough." with their family and their life, they hardly feel the need to steal from others anymore. they look Dazai in the eye with a passive stare, harmless, curious, willing. the stare of an older sibling scolding him for acting so childishly.
"about that…" he trails, rising from the bench. he can't see [Name] from his peripheral vision. he knows [Name] has no hostility within them unless he gives them some. "i was told to burn this orphanage down just to get you. but i'm being nice about it." and he won't give them any reason to bare their teeth. he's learned his lesson. he knows better from his own parallel mistakes. "you're a smart kid, aren't you?"
"are you extorting me?"
"not quite, i'm just looking out for you." a chuckle slips from his tongue. there's a fine line between his lies and his benevolence. it seems he cannot change his ways—he can only make them softer.
[Name] purses their lips in thought as they ponder over his words. "will everyone here be safe if i go with you?" they crane their neck to look up at him. he's not that much taller than them, even while standing up, wearing nothing but black, hiding behind his bangs and bandages. he still feels unreachable, too big and too lonely, like he takes up too much space whether he wants to or not.
"you can watch over them yourself," Dazai reassures them. he takes a step and turns to face them, offering them his bandaged hand.
"okay then." without a moment's hesitation, they reach for his fingers. they rise to their feet. "i'll go with you."
"welcome to the Port Mafia, [Name]."
Dazai feels in their hand the moment they realize exactly who he is and where he comes from. they blink owlishly at him as he smiles back without a trace of animosity. [Name] relaxes their muscles, now knowing they've made the correct choice. later that same week, they meet again with the man in the lab coat; the head of the Port Mafia itself.
it's fleeting, [Name] realizes, but it's very much there—the unadulterated, baseless animosity creeping up their legs. when they walk into the training room on their first day, Dazai is waiting for them while leaning against the wall. they see it in his eye as he turns his head to look at them. it's a hollow stare, a bottomless pit of strife, reaching out in echoes from the sobs of a child. his lips curl into a small smile. [Name] feels the hairs on their nape bristling in alarm, like there's a bigger threat looming nearby, but all they can see is Dazai.
and Dazai, with that look in his eyes and that simper on his lips, is not a threat at all.
when he's standing so close to them, when he isn't hiding in the sunlight, he feels much smaller. it's almost as if they could see his hands shaking. it's almost as if they could see the tears wanting to overflow. there's a stirring in their stomach where pain bubbles, purely and innocently. Dazai is so, so far away.
he pushes himself off the wall and stands across from [Name]. stepping closer, he finds it unusual to not see their muscles tense in alarm. then he remembers the usual hasn't been established yet. "those scars…" his sentence dies down as he tastes the words. they feel familiar on his tongue, so he finds a way to flip them upside down. "do you want to die, [Name]?" his eye casts down to their uncovered arms. they look the same.
"i'm sorry?"
a sigh tumbles from his lips. "your scars, those are self-inflicted."
"ah." instinctively, [Name]'s fingers reach up to touch their neck. Dazai doesn't look at them. "there was a time, back in the labs. i've grown out of it." they speak nonchalantly, shrugging their shoulders and acting like craving death was nothing more than a short phase. a little something they tried for fun and stopped once they got bored of it—it doesn't follow them, it doesn't cling to them, it has left them alone because they don't want to die anymore.
"why?"
"what do you mean?"
"why did you want to die?"
he sees how [Name] stops to give it some thought. their eyes flicker down and to the side briefly, then return to him, alive. "i'm not sure. it was just easy."
"those tests they ran on you," he prompts.
"yeah." they blink and something flashes in their eyes. it's unnoticeable, but Dazai can see it clearly. he considers briefly, just briefly, keeping his mouth shut. [Name] continues with an explanation that only makes sense to normal people like themself and Dazai, "living things became trivial."
"and by consequence, so did you."
[Name] nods. it's odd, they think, how easily he understands without them explaining a jumbled mess of forgotten thoughts. maybe it isn't that odd, especially considering he's read their files already. "do you want to die, Dazai-san?" but they see him as soon as their question slips from their tongue.
"yes."
in a quick answer with no hesitation, [Name] sees the innocent boy on the verge of tears. he's gritting his teeth and covering his ears with trembling hands. [Name] grimaces, because the closer they try to step, the smaller he becomes. so scared, so lonely, so vulnerable. they feel sorry for him. they pity him. he feels just like another little sibling from the orphanage, one [Name] could easily hold until his breathing settles down again. but as soon as they blink, he fades away, melting into the shadows where they can't reach. in his stead, they meet Dazai's hollow stare.
[Name]'s fingers twitch on instinct. "can i ask why?" they think, ignoring the bristling hairs on the back of their nape, that Dazai has been standing alone and alienated for far too long.
"some may call me a fool," he answers, voice light and airy, shrugging it off like it's something he's heard a billion times before. but then [Name] feels it again, when he looks them right in the eye, the unnerving animosity trying to drag them down. it's as if he's looking at someone else—looking at words he's heard from the same voice, but not quite the same person. "others," he emphasizes, "may call me a coward."
[Name] recoils. they take a step backwards. that statement—that complaint—was not directed at them, [Name] understands, but it was directly for them.
Dazai lets a chuckle drift into the silence. he recognizes he shouldn't be speaking anymore. he recedes and takes his contempt off [Name] with him. "is that enough of an answer for you?"
"i think… it's your choice." ([Name] tries—wants—to understand.) "whether you want to tell me or not."
they don't bite. "you're a lot more agreeable," Dazai hums. in a world in which he hasn't stolen anything from them, [Name] has no reason to bite back. if he hadn't been so childish, maybe they could have held a conversation like this in the right story.
[Name] contemplates asking for clarification, but they keep their mouth shut as Dazai steps closer. he feels small again. he's a kid. he's nothing but a kid, all over again.
with weightless steps, he stands a few feet away from [Name]. "attack me with all you've got."
Dazai can recite this scene from memory. [Name] hesitates, argues, and he makes sure they understand where their loyalties should lie from the get-go. he's long decided to teach them the same lessons in a different way. their attack is as predictable as the first time; he wastes not a single second striking his leg against their ribcage. as [Name] bounces off the wall, Dazai sighs to himself.
"lesson number one," his voice echoes through the training room, "don't rely on your ability alone." he watches unblinking while [Name] struggles to pick themself up from the floor. "you're gonna need a lot of martial arts training."
[Name] can barely register any of his words when their mouth is overflowing with blood.
Dazai gives them time to stand back up on their feet. quietly, he turns towards the door. "that's all for today." [Name]'s blurry eyes follow him as he begins heading out. his back is so, so small. "the closest infirmary is on the ground floor. same time tomorrow, yeah?" he stops at the door, glancing over his shoulder.
finding support on the wall, [Name] clutches the forming bruise on their side, stumbling in an attempt to stay balanced. their head spins, but they answer, "…yeah, okay…" despite the sickening taste of blood on their tongue.
"i'll use a gun, so be ready."
"…gotcha."
[Name] listens to their own choked breathing and takes a moment to properly stabilize themself. Dazai hears an echo in his brain, voices from the dead he has never heard, but he nonetheless remembers. it haunts him, whether he wants them to or not, because wisdom only has worth when a writer is dead. he takes it upon himself to not stress [Name] out too much. promptly, he exits the training room, leaving the door wide open for [Name] to follow once they gather their bearings again.
they think, while heading for the door, that Dazai is simply a lonely kid drowning in future regrets.
Dazai knows better than anyone—or rather, he's the only who knows—that he cannot interfere where he isn't allowed. the best example of this is [Name]'s natural gravitation towards Chuuya. he lets the years pass, working for things to play out the exact same way, changing the course only where it's needed for his plan. while he's busy throwing a quiet tantrum in a former assassin's apartment, he leaves [Name] in Chuuya's hands.
Nakahara Chuuya has read [Name]'s files—only the most relevant ones, because it would take him a lifetime to even scan through everything that has been documented since the moment of their birth. empathy simmers in his chest in the face of another humane monster built from experiments.
that which resembles a human. resembling humans, all of them, dancing on a chessboard in someone else's pocket.
however smart Mori may be, however much respect he may have for the boss, Chuuya believes leaving a kid with suicidal tendencies to a suicidal bastard is undeniably cruel. [Name] is nothing like Dazai, because they value life, because they don't regret being born, because they don't taunt death in an attempt to free themself. and yet despite knowing they are so, so different from the demon prodigy, there still is something. there is something, and Chuuya doesn't know what, but it's very much there. something in their eyes, something very deep in a parallel mirror; something on the scar on their neck and something in their voice.
something, whatever it is, making [Name] feel horribly similar to Dazai.
Chuuya has seen his friends die time and time again. that's just the way the mafia works. he fears he's going to see [Name] end up being another corpse in a pile of distant memories.
after a strenuous day of training, he offers them a cigarette. the more they take from him, the less they'll follow in Dazai's footsteps—he hopes, at least, because Dazai has a plan. Chuuya doesn't know what it is or why he's so determined to see it come to fruition, but he does know no one is safe. so he leans against the wall, taking another drag, listening as [Name] explains their experience in the research facility. out of curiosity, out of concern.
if there's an input, there's an output.
[Name] shakes ashes off their cigarette. they finish their retelling with a closing thought of, "at some point, the concept of life became trivial, as Dazai-san put it." it sounds natural and it rolls off their tongue with the tone of an older sibling. Chuuya argues that it sounds dissonant; that agreeing with Dazai shouldn't be a willing choice. "i could kill anyone and anything, but i couldn't kill myself. they wouldn't let me."
he sighs heavily, "that explains why you feel so much like that lousy suicidal bastard."
with the way [Name] turns to blink owlishly at him, he'd think he's offended them. their brows furrow in thought for a moment, before they chuckle sardonically. "i think Dazai-san's in a league of his own." as a pained afterthought, they add, "sadly." they cast their gaze down to their shoes, a grimace twisting their face. pity burns on their tongue. "there really isn't anyone out there to feel so much like him."
"hopefully," Chuuya snarls, rolling his eyes, "there really shouldn't be."
"do you hate him that much, Chuuya-san? i know he's a lot to handle, but he's just throwing a tantrum." the laughter that falls from their lips is ironic. they don't mean it. they're at a loss. the cigarette between their fingers slips and bounces off their shoes.
Chuuya clicks his tongue. "he's just a cunning bastard with a plan to fuck everyone over." he flicks his own cigarette off to the side to emphasize his words.
[Name] lets his snarky remark swim into their ears, processing each sound with careful consideration. they stare silently at the floor as they take into account everything the mafia has shown them for the past two years. they're well aware Dazai is always slithering around, a heavy presence looming over everyone's shoulders to make sure everything goes according to plan. they know he's doing something, whatever it might be, and it's very important. that's why he's been gone for over a week already. from where [Name] stands, it simply seems capricious.
"i think he's a little kid," they speak up with a hint of hesitation. a knot in their throat tries to keep them from spitting words a parallel story would set them on fire for. they clear their throat, turning to find Chuuya's eyes. "doesn't he feel like a neglected toddler to you?"
immediately, Chuuya throws his head back and cackles from the core of his chest. he pats [Name]'s shoulder harshly, shaking them in a fit of pure amusement. "ha! that's your best joke so far." he pretends to wipe a tear off his eye. the moment his laughter fades away, a peeved frown pulls his brows down. "that shitty asshole's a demon that's been alive for centuries. i wouldn't waste pity on him." as if it were an unimportant discussion about ants on the ground, Chuuya shrugs his shoulders. he's done with his smoke break and he cares little about sympathy for malicious intelligence.
[Name] watches him head back into the Port Mafia building. the demonic crown Dazai wears weighs on him more and more as the years go by. centuries upon centuries of living in isolation should give a demon like him all the wisdom in the universe, and yet he's nothing but a child. even Chuuya is only a child with issues of his own. they all are. and when kids are scared, some cry, some bite back, and some simply cower in a corner while gritting their teeth.
with a sigh, [Name] crushes their struggling cigarette with the sole of their shoe. they follow after Chuuya once the fire has died.
it's strange, Dazai thinks, and it rattles him for a moment. he only has the memories of what will happen, but he's convinced he can still feel frail bones crushing under the pressure of his foot. the moment he sees [Name] in broad daylight, crouched over in an awfully familiar alleyway, he stops dead in his tracks. his fingers twitch. he almost wishes [Name] would try to hide away in the shadows. he doesn't have to even look past them to know there's a box with three puppies in it.
"what are you doing here, [Name]?"
[Name] cranes their neck back, finding Dazai's eye staring down at them with a blank gaze. "hello, Dazai-san," they greet him normally, because they don't know and they can't guess. they step to the side to let him see the three dying dogs, huddled together for warmth inside a humid box. Dazai blinks. these puppies don't just look frail, they look sick.
"what are you doing?"
[Name] turns back to the box. with one hand, they keep searching for a way to help these dying creatures; the other one offers a sense of comfort—or as much as they can—scratching their heads gently. "i found these guys abandoned here. i was thinking of getting 'em to the vet, they don't look too good." when [Name] removes their hand, one of the puppies stirs. it tries to call out in a faint cry. it barely has the strength to breathe.
"oh." Dazai hums in understanding. he doesn't like dogs. he doesn't care about what happens to these dogs. something is probably eating them from the inside out and he knows for a fact they will not survive a ride to the vet. they're on the verge of death already; [Name], this time, is too late. "yeah, that's a good idea." he doesn't care about what happens to these dogs or to [Name] themself, but he lets them do whatever they want. it is not a dare. it is not a challenge. it's simply him taking a step back.
"do you know of any vets nearby? i can't find anything on my phone."
"…i don't really like dogs so i don't know anything." he lies. he does know. he cannot step back more than this.
it's fleeting, but [Name] feels that same baseless animosity trying to drown them. "i see." they pretend it's fair. they don't pry. with a grimace, they turn again to look at Dazai. "do you think they'll make it? they might be a lost cause."
"you should try."
the longer they consider it, the more pity simmers in their chest. when they scan their eyes over the puppies one more time, they're agitated, struggling to breathe. "i'd rather not put 'em through that… i'll just let 'em pass peacefully." an orange glow surrounds their body as they use Mirror Mirage to steal the dogs' lives from them. painlessly, the three of them grow weaker until they ultimately die.
Dazai glares quietly. he watches with a hollow stare as [Name], with their eyes closed, claps their hands and says a short prayer to the lives they've taken.
"i'll find a place to bury them. excuse me, Dazai-san." picking the box up from the floor, [Name] bows their head to him. he trails his eyes after them while they disappear down the sidewalk.
Mori Ogai knew eventually Dazai would take his place. evil expects evil from others. when he finds [Name]'s hand around his throat, he chuckles. he figures this is exactly why Dazai wanted to take them from their orphanage and bring them into his arsenal. he's not given much choice and lets the children do with him as they see fit.
at age eighteen, Dazai Osamu becomes the Port Mafia's boss.
[Name] doesn't mind the changes in the mafia, especially considering they aided the new boss. there's a hefty weight of unbearable responsibility pressing down on their shoulders. they're aware Dazai isn't their problem, and neither do they feel the need to interfere. he is doing something—[Name] doesn't know what it is or why, but they hope he can accomplish it so he'll finally sit down and breathe. they know better than to meddle. but the duty of an older sibling compels them to at least check in on everyone around them.
(Chuuya isn't content. they've heard all of his complaints again and again over cigarettes and drinks. he says he doesn't blame them for helping Dazai out in taking Mori's head. they hardly believe him.)
Dazai calls them into his office. something feels off when they step inside, bowing as per usual, speaking politely like they did with Mori. he's leaning back on his chair and reading a book. the cover is worn, but they can make out the characters for war and crime. the look in his eye darkens considerably as he lets it flutter shut before dropping it in his trash bin.
he leans into his desk and towards [Name], an empty smile curling his lips. "i have a task for you, [Name]." he gathers documents scattered around, brushing off a paper airplane that falls off the edge. [Name] takes them from his hand with a nod. "i'd like some information on this orphanage."
"of course, boss."
they bow one more time to excuse themself. Dazai considers letting them go with their task, but curiosity gets the best of him. he can't keep his mouth shut. "say, [Name]," he starts. [Name] stands up straight, listening attentively. "have you ever heard about the theory of the two demons?"
[Name] blinks, brows rising. it doesn't ring a bell. "i haven't. what does it say?" Dazai knows it doesn't ring a bell.
"that to combat a great evil, you need an even greater evil." it's taken him years to understand what this theory entails. it's taken him memories that do not belong to him to wrap his head around nonsense such as this. the best experience comes first-hand. "say, for uprisings against the government, the government can suppress the people with forced disappearances, for example." he cannot pretend to laugh at this anymore.
"so it's bad against worse?"
"precisely." Dazai snaps his fingers. there's a childlike ring in his voice, like he's happy to finally hold a conversation with the [Name] he's known. "it cancels out. it reaches a point where evil is just the norm. a demon against another demon; do you get it?"
"i see. like… fighting fire with fire." they're close. "only a demon can kill a demon."
like saying long time no see to someone he's supposed to have never met. like stabbing his own leg for someone he knows doesn't have the choice to stray. like offering lies to someone who cursed him in a different story. like babbling words that are not his. "yeah, that's… that's a good analogy." like a corpse smiling back at him. (like animal blood staining his shoes.)
"where did you find this theory? it seems interesting."
Dazai glances at the trash bin only briefly. "that's not important." [Name] doesn't catch on. "i just thought you'd like to know about it."
"why's that?"
"so you don't resent me after i'm dead." he's always known they aren't anything like him.
[Name] lets an innocent chuckle slip, "i'd be surprised if you're actually mortal at all."
"now that's a very cursed thing to say, [Name]." he offers them a smile. it's the smile of a child, innocent and ignorant. it's heavy.
"my apologies, boss."
Nakajima Atsushi is a mellow boy. it doesn't take a genius to realize he wasn't as lucky as [Name] was when drawing straws in the orphanage lottery. he's been blessed with a powerful ability, but he's also been cursed to never tame it. Dazai seems to have been prepared for this inconvenience since the day he was born. [Name] considers that's probably exactly the case.
they analyze the collar Dazai has given them, before their eyes fall on Atsushi. he's mellow and he's scared. he sits quietly on the floor, hugging his knees close to his chest to make himself small, hiding his face in search for safety. [Name] crouches by him, wearing the same gentle simper they used for their youngest siblings.
"i'm sorry about this, Atsushi-kun," they speak softly, careful not to make unnecessary loud noises, "but Dazai-san said it's to keep your ability in check."
"i know. i understand. it's okay." he lifts his head up only slightly. he meets [Name]'s pitying eyes.
they frown. the theory of the two demons states that, in order to take down a great evil, one requires a greater evil; [Name] thinks this is what Dazai meant when introducing them to such a wicked theory. a sigh tumbles from their lips, "it's not okay, but it's necessary." it burns on their tongue, rotten words they should swallow.
they purse their lips and clasp the collar around Atsushi's neck. somehow, they wince harder than him.
Dazai Osamu has completed his plan.
he hits the ground, blood splattering and staining the ground a crimson red, because even in death, Dazai can't keep himself from being a nuisance. his body twitches as the last remnants of life slip away from him.  it's unexpected—not that he managed to fulfill his own goals, but the way he chooses to celebrate. in the moment, [Name] thought their words were ironic. as they catch a glimpse through the corner of their eye, they think they spoke too much.
they freeze, shoulders taut. with wide eyes, they find Chuuya's glare across from them, seemingly just as perplexed. both turn towards the wall of windows; neither dare take a step closer to confirm their suspicions.
"…Chuuya-san," [Name] speaks up with a hesitant tone. Chuuya doesn't answer. "Chuuya-san, was…" their voice trails off, unsure of what to say in the face of suicide. "Chuuya-san, was that Dazai-san?" by the time they manage a coherent sentence, Chuuya is no longer by their side.
[Name] watches from up high in an empty hallway. from this height, Dazai's bleeding body is nothing more than an ant out of line. they sigh heavily, eyes closed. they clap their hands together and say a short prayer for the life that now sleeps forever in solitude.
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—あごす (agosu) • 2023
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prettyboypistol · 10 months
Note
Mercs realize that they are in love with their friend with benefits (preferred male please) love your headcanons,have you a nice day
Mercs Realizing They're In Love With a FWB || TF2 x M!Reader
Scout
Gay panics HARD
Out here acting like sucking dick made him catch the homo fr
He avoids you and even the topic of you. As soon as someone brings you up he changes the topic or gets mad.
He's mad at himself for thinking of you in a romantic way since you two CLEARLY said that this was just a way to blow off steam.
Probably takes it out on you, Def calls you a slur and feels really bad about it.
Jeremy knew what he had to do. He had fucked up severely and now he had to be a man about it. With a sucking in of breath, he knocked on your door. God, he hated himself so much for calling you that.
"Hey I-"
Your broken expression tore him to shreds. Your eyes were puffy and cheeks were red from crying.
After about an hour of crying, amending things, and a good punch to the stomach, you two eventually patch things up. You two don't know exactly what's going to happen going forward, but there won't be anymore name-calling.
Engineer
Suddenly a lot more gentle and romantic out of nowhere.
Like, he was usually a great friend and there for you, but out of the blue. He's checking up on you. He's handing you things you ask for, even if it's out of his way to do so. Etc etc
Kind of adverse to any sort of sexual favors bc he feels like he's taking advantage of you.
Eventually musters up the courage to speak his mind.
"Hey Dell, you wanted to see me?" You hummed as you shut and locked the door to his workshop. You assumed that you two would be breaking the dry spell that had been going on as of late, but the expression Dell had on his face clued you in otherwise.
"Listen, I've got something to tell you about. And I feel like straight shit for not saying anything sooner- but I think I'm catching feelings for you."
Dell sucked in a breath as he waited for your response. God, it was hell for him to stare you in the eye, but he was a man too! He was going to face you like one!
Demoman
"well shit"
He's not happy about it, but he is not othered by it in the slightest.
Def tells you right away like "if you wanna continue fucking that's cool but I really like you."
He still keeps treating you the same and is really calm and open about his feelings, even if he hits the booze a little more in downtime to cope with his feelings.
"Hey lad, c'mere." Tavish mumbled loud enough for only you to hear. Worried, you follow him quickly into the vacant hallway. With the way Tavish's demeanor was completely serious. "There's something you should know about." "Why? Did something happen?" You asked. Tavish nodded before he continued.
"Well ah, I caught a bit of feelings for you laddie, and I felt like- like you should know that before we do anything more. Just in case that changes anything. I just really got hit with how much I fucking like your personality as well as your physicality, y'know?"
Pyro
They swing from avoiding you entirely to keeping you a maximum of 3 feet away from them at all times. Mainly because of how their hallucinations and reality distorts their perception of you and how they exist around you.
Hates the fact that if it came out that they were fucking a man, Pyro would get made fun of more by the mercs.
You have no clue why Pyro is extremely hot and cold with you suddenly, but you don't feel like it would be ethical to have sex with them when they're cuddly and affectionate.
They tell you that they love you constantly when they're all over you and a hell of a lot more protective/jealous/paranoid about your affections.
Even when they are avoiding you, they still keep an eye on you to keep you safe.
"Pyro?" You call. They had been avoiding you for weeks. It pained them to avoid you, but they knew that they had to. They just didn't want to hurt you.
"Pyro please talk to me. I- I feel like you're struggling with something. Do you want to talk?" You would have offered to have a cup of tea or engage in Pyroland, but it was probably best to talk to them when they are clearly more terrified rather than euphoric.
You finally got a response. Pyro nodded.
Spy
god DAMMIT
Ghosts you until he feels better. Like total asshole mode until you hate him.
it's his idea that nobody is allowed to love him. The last time he loved someone he abandoned his son.
It hurts like hell for him, especially when you try to talk to him. He brushes you off and ignores you until you get the hint that he does NOT want to talk to you anymore.
Keeps the picture he has of you asleep in his bed in his wallet. It's his best picture of you since you look so at ease and peaceful- almost as if you trusted him with your very life and heart.
Sniper
Bro this man is AWKWARD
Still smashes tho
Mundy really thinks that giving you head counts as a love confession fr
Genuinely though, he's a lot more intentional with mini acts of service. He invites you to have a cup of coffee, offers you a cigarette when he opens a pack, just the little things you know?
A lot more blushy and shy when you talk to him/tease him.
"Mick Mundy." You called, the mischief in your voice clear as day. Sniper was never more envious of Spy's cloaking device as you made your way over. "Hey there handsome, is your evening free?" You loved the way his face flushed and how he pulled his hat down to cover himself. You could tell the very moment he fell for you, and you just loved teasing him!
Medic
He doesn't like the fact that he's fallen in love with you, but knows he can't really do anything about it. (He's tried a lobotomy, but he lost feeling in his ring finger for a week.)
Keeps it friendly, but def "dirty talks" in German to you stuff like "you're so beautiful" and "I adore you" to kind of feel better about his crush
Gets jealous of you hanging with the others more to the point of you noticing. (Glares, more touching, etc)
Eventually tells you in English, but def in a heat of passion moment. Ludwig kept near you during the fight, but a rain of bullets dropped down from out of nowhere. Despite how much Medic tried to battle the onslaught, he wasn't powerful enough to stop the bleeding. "Liebe! God DAMN IT!" Ludwig shouted as you dropped down to the ground. Of course you would respawn in a few seconds, maybe- just maybe, since you were dead... "I love you."
Heavy
He's open about it, but demands you to keep it quiet.
He asks you to please keep everything quiet, especially if you reciprocate. He trusts you enough to keep his sexuality a secret, but he wants both of you to stay safe.
Mikhail acts a lot more kind to you, little acts of kindness.
PLEASE call him nicknames he gets so blushy. "Big Bear" "Big Guy" "Handsome", all make him scream internally.
As you wind down from the absolutely wild night you two shared, Mikhail held you tight as the alarm clock flashed 4:06AM. "I have to say something." Heavy mumbled into your neck. "What is it?" You respond as sleep sews itself into your consciousness. You tried to stay awake, but he was just so warm and cuddlyyy... "I love you." "I love.. you too"
Soldier
VERY uncomfortable with his feelings
called himself straight, even despite you two's "arrangement". Man's so far in the closet he's found the forest the wood is from.
He is fully aware that he's in love with you, but he refuses to acknowledge the feelings. He wants to kiss you. He wants to hold you. He wants to keep you safe and care for you.
Def daydreams of a domestic household with you(stfu he doesn't mean to imagine you that sexy when you wear an apron)
"Solly?" You hum, a smile blooming when you see your little soldier. "You spacing out?" "I'M MORE THAN SENTIENT, PRIVATE!" Jane responded. He took a step back when he realized how damn close you suddenly had gotten. "What's got you smiling like that? Thinking about the Revolution?" You teased. "OF COURSE!" He lied. He was thinking about you and him on a hillside holding hands.
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bts-0t-7 · 5 months
Text
So What? | MYG | Chapter 11
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Pair: Hybrid Cat Yoongi x F Reader 
Summary: Running from a past that foreshadows him, Yoongi is adamant about ever turning back to his human counterpart form, in hopes that nobody would recognise him and take him away. You worked at a cafe with your best friend. As a more-than-normal day seemed to go by, you discovered something amidst your housing block. Perhaps - just perhaps, the nighttime is where the angels arrive. 
Genre: Angst, Fluff, Hybrid, non-idol au
Warnings: Contains explicit language, abuse
Chapter Warnings: Explicit Language 
WC: 2.2K
Taglist: @bearr02 @svnbangtansworld @vintageoldfashion @rkivemaar @idkjustlovingbts @ldysmfrst @codeinebelle @bontensbabygirl
A/N: Seokjin is too smart for his own good in this chapter. I SHALL REPEAT, DO NOT COME FOR ME - PLEASE - I’m sorry for the pain
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By the time the hearing was over, it was past dinner time and everybody was exhausted. You were more than ready to go home and crash in bed, dreaming that this never did happen. You knew you needed to talk to Yoongi soon - preferably before the verdict, was Jimin’s answer to you when you finally confronted him head-on with the matter. 
You looked over to see Yoongi yawning and nodding to something Joon said to him. You’ll have that talk tomorrow. Tonight, the two of you will just cuddle in bed for some well-deserved sleep. 
“Remember the talk, Y/N.” Jimin reminded you as he dropped you and Yoongi off. “Don’t drag it on for too long.” He turned to Yoongi. “You were great today, man. See you on Thursday. Goodnight!”
The both of you waved Jimin off before entering your apartment building.
“What was Jimin saying just now?” Yoongi asked. 
“Oh, nothing. We’ll sleep first. Today took out everybody’s brain cells already and we need them at full capacity if we want to talk tomorrow.” You reassured Yoongi. “It’s nothing serious.”
Except it was everything but not serious. 
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You got out of bed early in the morning, brain lagging from the lack of sleep. But you truly couldn’t sleep. Not when the possibility of everything going bad today was already a good reason. You were afraid to bring up the topic to talk to Yoongi. You had figured that he knew and didn’t want to tell you so you had given him some space and time but you were getting impatient. 
Although, you did not fully understand the weight of mateship but you understand being true to oneself. And that was what you were going to do today. You were going to approach - not sure how, but you were going to do it - and have this talk before tomorrow. You wanted to clear the air before the verdict hearing in case of anything. 
You knew that the possibility of Yoongi being a free hybrid after tomorrow was extremely high and at the same time, you wanted to see his point of view on the matter so that you could act accordingly during the hearing. You didn’t want to cause a scene when there was no need for one. 
Whipping up a simple breakfast, you set the table in time when Yoongi came out of his bedroom, yawning. 
“Smells good.” He plopped down on the chair. 
Yesterday drained the both of you and you wanted some space and time to think alone so you chased Yoongi to his own room. 
As you sat down, Yoongi was quick to pull you to his lap and buried his head in your neck. You let him be and started eating, occasionally sneaking him some bites from your own plate before bringing his plate over to feed him. You treasured the calmness of the current time, knowing that it would not last for long. 
After breakfast, the both of you called in a lazy day, taking the blankets off the beds and cuddling in front of the television. You knew that you should start to talk before lunchtime so that if anything happens, you hope that you will have time to cool down. 
You had truly hoped nothing would go worse than your imagination had taken you last night but it seems that your predicament was more than wrong, leaving you in the current situation. The both of you were fighting and screaming at each other, both sides trying to calm down but are as stubborn as mules. 
“No, you don’t understand. It is not something to take lightly. A mateship is for a lifetime. It bonds the souls. You don’t understand that it is not something that can just be tossed around like that.”
“I am not tossing - if we are using your words - the title around. I am asking you why you wouldn’t tell me that I am your mate.” You tried breathing slowly. You didn’t want to get worked up in this situation where the air is already deadly. “I’ve waited! I’ve found out and waited for you patiently - that maybe you were not comfortable enough to tell me. But I’ve waited, Yoongi! 
Yoongi kept silent. 
“Why, Yoongi?” You started growing frustrated. You wanted - needed - an answer from him. Even if it is not an answer you want to hear, you still need an answer. You needed closure if this was not what he wanted. 
You knew you weren’t the easiest to come around and you also knew Yoongi is stubborn. He always says that you deserve better - a better hybrid, a better life, a better everything. The both of you are hardheads, never backing down from a fight. 
“I am asking you, why? I need an answer, Yoongi. This is not fair to me.” You pulled at your roots. You did not like confrontation and all you wanted to do was hide in the room right now. But you knew that this was a long overdue talk. 
“Well, why do you think I never told you all these months then?” Yoongi suddenly turned to face you. “Why do you think I kept silent even when I found out? Why do you think I kept silent when I knew you found out?”
You didn’t want to say it. You truly hoped you were wrong - hoped that your intuition was just fooling you and he would say something else. 
“Huh, why?” He screamed. 
You flinched. 
Oh, you have never heard Yoongi scream. You have never seen him so distressed and worked up. Half of you wanted to go over and comfort him but you stood your ground - stubborn as he is. 
“Why?” You questioned. Your voice sounded meek even to your ears. 
“You want me to say it? You want to hear it?” Yoongi’s hands were pulling at his hair. “Fine! I’ll say it for you, spell it out for you so accurately you will never think you misheard!” Yoongi yelled, ears flat against his head and tail swishing sharply behind his back. “Because I don’t want you! I. DO. NOT. WANT. YOU. AS. MY. MATE!” Yoongi roared. “Is that clear enough for you?”
It was silence after that revelation. You looked at Yoongi - really took a good look at the fuming male hybrid standing in the middle of the living room. His chest rose up and down in frantic motion, trying to regain his breath. You bored your eyes into his, finding the truth in there. A tear streaked down the side of his eyes and he used the back of his hand to wipe it away. 
As you move forward, he moves backwards. Yoongi suddenly turned around snatched his collar off the hook and half-stepped into his shoes. “I’m leaving.” was all he said before slamming the door straight in your face. 
You sucked in a deep breath. And another. And another. Until you felt like your walls were constraining, you raised a hand to beat the sofa. When that wasn’t enough, you screamed your lungs out, throat burning - but right now, who the fuck cares? It wasn’t until you lifted a hand to throw the key bowl did you stop and look around. 
The dish where you put all your keys - or key-bowl, as you liked to call it - was made by Yoongi a few weeks ago when the both of you went to a pottery class. He gave it to you saying that you wouldn’t lose your keys as easily if they’re all in one spot. So no matter how much you wanted to smash it, you just couldn’t bring your heart to do it. 
And you looked around. The whole house was filled with memories of you and him. Before him, it was just a shelter to you. A place where it can shield you from the harsh weather and the noise of the outside world. You were drowning in the world of an endless abyss that you didn’t know how to get out of. Until Yoongi came along. The ferocious, characteristic cat that you thought was just as it is. Your house started to feel a bit warmer - that you had someone to come home to.
And then the silence shattered once again when you found him so sick on your bed, bringing him to a vet only to realise he was definitely not what you thought he was. Slowly but surely, Yoongi opened up to you. Sure, both of you had ups and downs, but isn’t that normal for every relationship? The both of you grew with each other - or at least you thought so. 
Now - now you were no longer sure who you were to and what you were to him. Standing in the middle of the living room where he stood just spare a few minutes ago, made your heart constrict so tightly you thought it was going to burst. 
“I need to get out of here.” You muttered to yourself. “Leave, leave.” At this point in time, you couldn’t be bothered by the mess your house is currently in. “Keys, keys. Where are my keys?” You started to grow frantic. “Keys so I can leave. Leave, leave.”
You found your keys and yanked your jacket off the ottoman, shutting the doors behind you. If you were sober, you would have called Jin to pick you up. But you were anything but sober. Sober in the sense of alcohol, certainly not sober in the sense of emotions. 
You turned on your car and drove it out of the parking lot below your apartment building, towards the direction of Seokjin’s house. Normally, Yoongi would play some music but this time, only your heavy breaths kept you company as you fought to stay calm. 
Taking no less than 10 minutes to reach Seokjin’s complex, you parked your car and headed up to his house. You needed your brother and you couldn’t be bothered if he was sleeping, in the shower, or working. You needed him here, you needed him to keep you grounded with those stupid dad jokes he always makes. 
You would have called Lils if she wasn’t halfway across the world visiting her relatives. You punched in the passcode to his house and entered, quickly shedding your shoes and coat. You looked up in time to see Seokjin coming out of his kitchen, a chopstick in hand and a mouth full of rice, saying, “I gave you the code not so that you can just barge in here like nobody’s business. Might I remind you that this house is still under my name, which means my rules -”
You slam your body into your brother’s, arms going around his waist as you bury your head in his chest. Realising that there’s more to what meets the eyes, Seokjin wrapped his arms around you, easily lifting you up and bringing the both of you to the couch. 
“Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” He cooed, placing down his chopsticks and wiping your tears. You couldn’t answer him. You didn’t want to answer him - ‘cause if you did, it would be real. 
Seokjin, sensing your discontent, sighed. He didn’t pry any longer, deciding just to let you cry it out. You were a sensitive soul, he knew. As much as you tried to prove to everybody that you grew out of it, he knew you best - and knew that you were just getting better at hiding your pain now. He wishes that you would open up more to him but you were big now and he knew that. He knew that some things needed to be learned through experiences. 
So he keeps an eye out for you but does not linger too long. He saw the way you and Yoongi act together, he saw the way you looked at him on the witness stand yesterday afternoon. He had asked Jimin what he meant by ‘the talk’ and bribed him into giving him a piece of information. He didn’t know how crucial that was until you came in bursting into tears.
You had gotten attached.
But he wasn’t blind. He knew that your hybrid was attached as well. So why did it turn out like this? Why did he have to break your heart and not admit it? Seokjin didn’t want to pry too much, but he really wanted to understand. Exactly what happened? 
“Come on, let’s get you washed up and into bed.” Seokjin sighed. He carried you to the bathroom, filling up the bathtub with warm water and put in a bath bomb and some salts. “I’ll be waiting outside for you once you’re done. Don’t take too long.” He left a set of clothes on the counter for you. He had saved some of your clothes with him for when you wanted sleepovers. Better than wearing his clothes. 
Seokjin scrunched his nose. 
Yeah. 
Nope.
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kisscara · 11 months
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13. bumping into someone familiar [fanboy!scaramouche x drummer!reader] ⎯⎯ heartbeat rhythm series
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the day before was like a dream.
there's a change in your attitude and practically everyone notices it. you just can't believe you got to casually hang out with the scaramouche.
he was so cool and composed the whole time, it had you thinking that he's a hallucination, or rather a divine angel sent down by the archons themself!
you hum as you fidget with the cat charm attached to your phone, sitting atop the outdoor stage as you and the other members wrapped up another practice. ayaka takes note of this and approaches you.
"(name)? when did you get that?" she queries, placing her hands on her knees to meet your gaze. you slowly giggle with a pink face, "he won it for me at the arcade." ayaka turns red at your response. she seems to be more excited about this than you do.
she looks around before sitting next to you and whispering, "did he?" you eagerly nod with suppressed laughs. ayaka quietly squeals, "that's so cute, (name)! you should make a move on him already!... ah, i don't mean to rush you or anything-"
you chuckle, "no, it's fine, ayaka. but," you stretch your arms and lay down onto the stage with your hands behind your head. "i don't know. i still have a bad feeling about having to confess sooner or later."
ayaka hums in understanding. you sit back up and change the topic to lighten the mood. "did you know he has two sisters? his younger sister, fischl, is in her last year of middle school and he has a twin sister, who goes to our school!" you playfully nudge, "if he rejects me, i'll go for his sister."
ayaka's jaw drops and you laugh at her reaction, "i'm joking!"
hu tao comes out of nowhere and places a paperbag on top of your head. "food is here and just what are you guys giggling on and on about? me and yoimiya could hear you from the other side of the stage!" the brunette crouches down by ayaka as yoimiya sits next to you.
you tease hu tao with a lilting tone, "you'll have to guess." hu tao hands a sandwich to yoimiya and ayaka and saves you for the very last. "something something student council president," hu tao flatly says, taking a bite out of her own sandwich.
"how did you know?" you sarcastically ask, swaying your legs and hitting the heels of your shoes against the stage. "anyways, he's super sweet. people who hate him are just jealous like that," you state with a smile.
the sandwich began to taste even better when you spoke about him.
hu tao rolls her eyes, "okay, (name)~ now, about yun jin!" she leans in, "she hasn't texted us in days. do you think she's alright, handling the madam faruzan situation? what if she won't be able to sing when the day comes?"
ayaka frowns, "that's true. she hasn't practiced with us in forever. at this point, we might have to cancel on performing." all four of you fall silent at the thought of it.
"it's okay!" yoimiya widely grins, "we could fill in for her." the blonde takes out a notepad and hurriedly scribbles down the lyrics. "here, like this. ayaka can sing the first verse, then-"
ayaka cuts her off with a yelp, "me, sing!? i don't know about this plan, 'miya..."
you place a hand on ayaka's shoulder and smile, "it's okay if you don't want to, but you really are a great singer. your voice is very stable but soft, which contrasts really well with the song."
hu tao nods, "mhm! plus, we're all going to be there! only the archons know how many people are out there that love you like we do!" ayaka takes tiny nibbles from her sandwich, muttering, "what am i going to do with you guys?"
after planning out who's singing which verse and practicing like it was the real performance, the sun began to set, and everyone started packing up their instruments.
"see you tomorrow, hu tao, 'miya!" ayaka calls out with a smile and you and her head back into the school building.
you suddenly realize something and start feeling at all of the pockets you could possibly find on your outfit. "shit, i forgot my house keys in my locker! text me if ayato is here by the time i'm not back!" you exclaim, running up the stairwell to the second floor.
ayaka blinks and looks around her, "o... kay..."
you pant to catch your breath and in a rush, your shoulder hits someone in the arm. you look back and panic, "sorry, i-!" your pupils dilate at the sight of the girl before you.
"oh? aren't you the drummer from 5O5?" mona curiously tilts her head and places a hand on her hip, seemingly have forgotten the previous slip-up of yours.
you shyly nod, a little intimidated by how much she appeared and acted like scaramouche. the cold aura, the pretty face; just who is their mother?
she held up one of her hands to her mouth and your gaze instantly admired her gorgeous nails and rings. "ah, i see! i've heard a lot about you from my little brother." a sly smile curls at her lips and you anxiously swallow.
"don't worry, it's nothing bad. quite the opposite, actually." she adds, "i'm looking forward to your performance for our school's festival. i went to one of your live performances before, the one at the inazuma live house."
you gasp, "really?" mona titters, "yeah, kuni was there too." you look at her with a puzzled expression and she clarifies, "kunikuzushi is scaramouche's first name. he uses his second name for, i don't know what reason that boy has."
kunikuzushi? where have you heard that again?
thinking about it began to make your mind feel fuzzy, searching for a memory buried within others.
you mumble, "that's interesting..." you recall how he had mistook you to be the group leader, but if was at the live house, then he would have known yun jin was the leader. well, it's probably nothing. there's no point in going into depth, right?
"wait, um..."
"mona," she says, answering for you.
you sigh, "mona, why did you two go to the live house in the first place?" mona answers truthfully, "he asked me to drive him. practically pleaded, at that."
tags: @mariusvonhangme @scaramoo @mikismusings @rizakari @akagism2 @sakiimeo @ohmyfinggod @aethersluvrr @scarafrisbee @kaoyamamegami @liliumaraneae @dreamsofminnie @starfart19 @kunisbeloved @luhvashh @makiswrld @kyouzki @mimissubway @loucaroarz @theblueblub @angelunatic @shinjuuz @thenightsflower @coquettemaiden @thefandomcrow @cotton-eee @lovely028 @hrtswinter @duckyyyx @kissingkzuha @dazaisboner @adeptusx @tomotofu @yukiipc @httpspatholvr @star583 @soobasaur @dr8amy @scaraapologist @raideneiari @rvoulte @esquevl @pyrrhicgaze @tjjjrsj @enviouspeanut @d4y-dr3am3r @aromaticism @undecidingfate @idontwantoeatspicy
taglist is now closed as i've reached the max tags in a single post. (50/50 tags occupied + officially removed users whose names aren't linked)
what happens when you, a talented and well-known drummer across the web, grow an intense crush for the student council president, who's also your number one fan? from annoying sisters to nosy bandmates, the next event that happens is always more chaotic than the last!
© kisscara
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dark-night-hero · 1 year
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Imagine being DG | Diego Kang's significant other.
Imagine looking at the bright lights of Seoul. Playing a piece of pocky in between your finger as you lean forward against the balcony of his your penthouse. It was peaceful, unlike those back in the days. Placing the flavored pocky stick on your mouth, holding it in between your fingers, you bite it gently. Much better than cigarettes.
Imagine the way you humm a familiar tone, probably one of the songs your lover had done but right now you couldn't careless. After all you're pretty much pissed at the moment but you don't want to act up, you're rather in a good mood today if it wasn't for the stupid shit that is now getting on your nerves. This time you bit off your pocky in a more rapid aggressive manner.
Imagine looking down, this time not focusing on the bright lights along the night of Seoul but the very street right beneath the building. Your kind wondering of would you die or how much would it hurt if you jump off right now. Seriously nothing suicidal but just a random thought. Turning your interest in your hands, you reach out on the table nearby to grab another piece of pocky.
Imagine taking your time in balcony, very much aware of the person unlocking the door at the front, due to your quiet environment you could hear it very well even if you're pretty much away from the door. Glancing behind, you once again put your attention back in the night sky, thinking of a way to mess with the person approaching you with a great speed.
"I can explain." Said the person, your lover who just slammed the glass door to the balcony where you're at. "Oh really?" You didn't dare turn around, you just stay there in your place looking up the the night sky. "What exactly do you need to explain? James." "Fuck." He utter in which you can clearly hear. After all, you only call him by his old name when you're angry, real angry at him and of course you are very well aware of your habit, and you're going to take advantage of it.
"Look, that article is just a lie, I already told my staffs to take care of it. I'm not dating anyone-" "You're not dating anyone? What does that make me? A roommate?" You spoke as you finally turn around to look at him. "Fuck." Your lover curse for the fifth time that night.
Imagine the way you stare at him emotionless as he stood there all in his office attire. Coming all the way from the company to here as soon as he saw the famous year end dating news article which contained a lot of Kpop idols and actors dating couple which happened to have him and someone else involved. Obviously not true, it was a fake news so normally he would give a damn. But that damn person was someone else he's been working with recently as well as the topic of his small arguments with you nowadays.
"I mean, a roommate isn't that bad I suppose. Should we become one starting today?" You chuckle with a shrug. Fuck, you almost burst out laughing at him right now. The look on his face was funny, most of the time he was laid-back so you could barely see him make face other than his usual relax one nowadays. You've only seen him with a smug look on his face back in the days and a laid-back one nowadays. But this look of conflicted, troubled and nervousness really was something new.
"Come on now babe, you know I don't mean it like that." He chuckle nervously as he finally took a step forward towards you, who at the moment seems to be reaching out of the remaining sticks inside the pocky box. "What I'm saying is that the news about me and her dating is fake." He explained, reaching out to touch your face hoping to soothes you but then you turn your head as you went to take a bit of your pocky. "Yeah I know." You spoke casually, taking another bite of your pocky stick.
Imagine being insecure as fuck. It's not like you don't trust him. You knew that article was fake. You really tried your best not to be upset, it was all a fake news after all. You even tried to take it as a joke, wanting to mess around on purpose before taking it back saying it was just a joke. But fuck it. "I knew it was fake."
Imagine the way DG eyes widen, the way he saw those silent tears roll down your face. "Fuck." You on the other hand could not help but to curse as you wipe off your tears. Maybe you were really upset, these days were tiring enough. You barely see your lover around ever since he started managing his new company still you didn't dare complain after all you let him do whatever he wants, you knew better not to stand on his way, even back then, you let him to whatever he wants, because you knew at the end of the day he would always, and will ways come back to you. But these days, you don't know. You don't know anymore.
"Sorry, I was just messing around, I wasn't really upse-" "I'm sorry." "Huh?" You almost took a step back if it aren't for the fact that your back was pressed upon the glass railings of the balcony. "I've been neglecting you for a while now, haven't I?" He look away like he's ashamed to even look at you in the eyes. "I'm sorry." He repeated, this time having the guts to meet your (eye color) iris.
Imagine the way you just stood there, unmoving before he pull you into a hug. You don't even know why, but as soon as he did hug you, the next thing you knew, you were hugging him back as you cried in his arms. Maybe it was because of the article, maybe its because you rarely seen him nowadays, maybe it's because you just miss him so much more than you could have imagined. "Can you stay for the night? James?" "You don't have to ask." He spoke stroking your hair.
Imagine the way he mind it when other people, mostly people whom knew him from the past calls him by his old name. But not when it comes to you, never when it comes to you. After all, in every goal he has and does. There was you waiting at the very end of it.
[ⓒdark-night-hero] 2022°
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mari-lair · 4 months
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Some angsty Terukaneaoi food for you: What if after this arc the clock keepers lose their yorishiro + power. In the past, people that were abducted by supernaturals lost their memories of it once the yorishiro was destroyed (look at Aoi in nr.2 story arc). So what if Akane would lose his memories of everything supernatural? He would forget about the severance and his advances with Aoi and instead would go back to confessing to her like crazy which would probably hurt Aoi a lot. He would also forget that Teru is an exorcist which in return means that Teru lost his only friend he could freely talk to about all his problems. Teru would try to shelter him from remembering it, because he knows it's what Akane would want (he wants to be normal and hates supernaturals after all) but it would hurt Teru a lot because this Akane doesn't know him truly and he needs to keep lying to him.
oooh angst! Just my tipe of angst too! Don't mind if I accept this food and throw a few random headcanons into this AU
Akane would get a headache when he is with Teru. He knows Teru is his friend and he is far from the charming prince that people perceive him as but Akane has no idea how they became friends (he just assumes it was through student council duties), he has no idea why there is a sense of guilt when he looks at Teru (he can't remember his clock keeper betrayal) nor why he associates Teru with safety, is not like him, a normal high school boy, need protection, right? He doesn't know why he has a pair of glasses with no prescription from Teru and even less why he takes great care of the glasses he doesn't use. He also know Aoi have a bracelet from him so he assumes these are weird gifts from someone with bad taste. What he is able to piece together from the tiny things he remembers with Teru is that he is one of the few people the president trusts, and he assumes he knows him (which is no longer true now that he doesn't know he is an exorcist.) taking pride in that.
Akane randomly gifts him a pen cause he had mistakenly assumed the 'something is off' feeling he gets when he thinks too hard about his enchanted glasses was born from getting a present from someone he values and not giving Teru anything back.
Teru can spend days happy near Akane, able to talk about his siblings and tease his crush on Aoi, keeping the topic focused on student council duties and other simple things, but he feels dead inside when he relaxes too much in Akane's presence and a reference to supernaturals slip up. He hates lying to Akane, and he hates even more when Akane sees through a lie, especially those that involve injuries. If he hears Akane says he should "leave his mysterious job for something less dangerous" again he will snap.
Akane feels uneasy when he hears clocks ticking. He stopped wearing his wristwatch.
Akane knows Aoi changed, she's acting more shy and reading his messages more, but he doesn't remember what he did to make them grow closer. It's maddening. Whatever he did must have gotten a lot of points? How could he forget? Why is he so forgetful about... anything regarding Aoi recently? (he doesn't even remember she is a Kannagi) He believes it's something he did, so he tries harder.
Aoi was flustered by the change at first. After learning Akane loves her despite all her flaws, she starts to believe in Akane's words so she is weak on the knee when he says he loves her so much with a big smile! But her shy joy crash and burn the second she notices his eager smile, as if waiting for her score.
They fell into a routine and she is horrified, she isn't brave enough to open up again so she leaves small unsaid hints as best she can't, and while Akane does catch some of it, since he is very perceptive, it still feels like they aren't on the same page. Akane stop waiting for scores when aoi stopped giving them, and goes back to her side ilke a moth to a flame when giving her space makes her distressed, fumbling like a hopeless idiot around her in an attempt to understand what she want, what will 'win her heart', and even if it doesn't, what will make her the happiest.
Even when he asks "What is wrong?" directly, she say "Nothing <3" cause she doesn't know how to explain, or how to gain that level of honesty again without a drug to help her emotions feel more manageable. He doesn't know what he did wrong but at least, he understands every indirect invitation to watch movies with her, they still spend more time together than they used to, getting ocasional instances where both are relaxed.
Teru still approaches Aoi to talk about his random questions and small talk, but he starts to talk about supernaturals with her too, since she remembers the trio Far Shore trips. She finds Teru even weirder when she gets more details on his job and views, but it doesn't bother her, welcoming the company.
Akane can somewhat sense that they are hiding something from him, and that they are growing closer together, it drives him insane on many levels, he even thought they were dating in secret at some point, but they snorted at the idea. They don't give him clear answers and doing his own research doesn't help either, he just has these vague feelings he can't explain. The most he could piece together is that he had 'an accident that messed with his memories', which is weird cause Lemon and his other classmates don't seem aware of whatever accident aoi and teru are shaken by.
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halfmoondaze · 1 year
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hiiii can you please right an angsty imagine where jack has a gf who is super talkative and rambles a lot and she’s super self conscious about because everyone in her life has complained about it and told her she’s annoying and what not so being called annoying by anyone is just super hurtful to her. maybe jack has a bad day or something and reader is trying to talk to him and starts rambling and he gets snaps and call her annoying and she just starts crying and goes and locks herself in their bedroom. jack apologizes and she says she forgives him but she’s not being her usual self and isn’t talking as much so jack has to find a way to prove to her that he really didn’t mean it and loves her talking
I Didn't Mean To
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Growing up, you were always shy and reserved, but after a while you would found yourself more comfortable with being yourself and you would show a side of you that was the complete opposite of that; which was very talkative to the point of just rambling all the time. It was something you very self-conscious about because in the past, family members and ‘friends’ have made you feel incredibly embarrassed about it, so because of that it was a side to you; you always tried to hide.  
Because of this, it always took you a while to open up and make friends, and that was no different when you first met Jack. 
You were introduced to Jack for the time at a party you were attending to with your best friend, whose father was a renowned music producer. You were awkwardly standing next to Y/F/N as she was surrounded by group of people as she lead the conversation, when someone bumped into you. 
“Sorry about that” he said. 
You quickly catched on to his Kentucky accent and looked up to see Jack Harlow smiling apologetically at you. 
“Oh its ok” you said lookind down embarrassed while playing with your hair. 
“Hey” he said. 
“Hi” 
“I don’t I haven’t seen you before” 
“You haven’t. I came here with Y/F/N” 
He smiled. 
“I’m Jack” he said reaching out for your hand.
“Y/N” you said extending your hand giving him a handshake. 
“I guess this isn’t really your scene?” 
You couldn’t help but let out a small laugh.
“Is it that obvious?” 
“I’m pretty sure I was the only one who noticed” 
“I-“ 
You were quickly interrupted by the DJ increasing the volume of the song to the point it became hard to hear each other. 
Jack then turned to you with an apologetic smile and motion the two of you to go somewhere else quieter. 
You nodded and followed him. 
That’s how you ended up talking for what felt like hours with Jack in the house backyard. There was something about him that made you feel at ease but you couldn’t make out what it was. 
“Sorry, I ramble a lot” you said with a nervous laugh  after you end up talking about a topic you felt really passionate aboiut.
“I think it’s cute” 
After he noticed you were a bit off, he turned to you. 
“You ok?” 
“Yeah, sorry I’m just a bit tired. I should get back home” 
“I can take you home if you want, besides by the look of it I think Y/F/N is having the time of her life” 
You turned to see her singing at the top of her longs and dancing with everyone to the song. 
You laughed. 
“Yeah, I guess so” 
When he pulled up to your drive way he turn to you and smiled softly. 
“I had a great time, and would like to see you again if that’s alright” 
“Yeah, I’d like that” 
After that, you went on your first date together. He took you to a lowkey diner and you spend all the time just laughing out loud at his jokes and just getting to know each other. Maybe it was the fact that it was just the two of you, but you found yourself growing rapidly comfortable with showing more about your talkative personality and he seemed to be very happy and enthusiastic about you showing that side of yourself to him. And even though you would sometimes apologize about it, he would be quick to reassure you that it was alright. 
That night when he took you back home, he kissed you for the first time. It was magical and sweet. 
Not long after, you started dating and it was like a dream. Until it wasn’t.
You would spend almost all your time staying over at Jack’s. 
One night, he came back from the studio evidently stressed out. 
“Hey, how was the studio session?” you put your book down and turned to him. 
“It was alright” he said in a way like he was trying to convince himself of that as he walked through the door. 
“You seem stressed” you said as he sat at the other end of the couch. 
“It’s nothing” 
“Are you sure everything is ok? You can tell me”
The truth was that Jack was the most stressed out he's ever been. Today while attending his recording studio session for his album, they realized a lot of the recordings the day before, which were about like 14 hours’ worth of recordings were somehow destroyed. And they spend most of the day trying to recover it. But ultimately, they decided to just call it a day and continue tomorrow and see how they can fix it. 
As Y/N started rambling about ways he could distress himself, he could feel himself becoming increasingly more and more stressed out and he didn’t think he was going to be able to contain himself. 
“HOW MANY TIMES DO I HAVE TO TELL YOU IM FINE BEFORE YOU SHUT THE HELL UP? SERIOUSLY, YOU’RE BEING SO ANNOYING RIGHT NOW. I CAN’T EVEN HEAR MYSELF THINK.” 
His face softened when he saw you silently crying as he realized what he had just done. 
“Babe, I didn’t mean that, I-”
Before he could say anything else, you walked past him and locked yourself in your shared bedroom. 
He followed you behind but didn’t managed to go past the door before you locked it. 
He let out a sigh. 
“Babe, please open the door I’m sorry” 
No answer. 
“I shouldn’t have snap at you…please open the door” 
No answer. 
At the other side of the door, you were laying in the bed crying your eyes out recalling the argument in your head over and over.
Up to this point, he was one of the few people in your life who had never made you feel self-conscious about your talkative nature until now.
Before you knew it, you had fallen asleep. 
It was sometime around 3 am when you woke up from your sleep. Then the silent sense of content disappeared as soon as you recalled the events from a few hours ago. 
Even though you felt really hurt, you still wanted to talk to him. So, you stepped out of the bed and opened the door, and to your surprise you found Jack asleep on the floor Infront of the bedroom door. 
You kneeled beside him and gently woke him up.
“Y/N. I’m so sorry, I-”
“I know. I forgive you. Do you want to come back to bed?”
He just nodded. 
The next day, Jack woke up to find your side of the bed empty. 
As he walked down the stairs he made his way to the kitchen, to find you making breakfast. 
“Good morning beautiful” he said wrapping his arms around you and kissing your cheek. 
You immediately went tense, and he noticed so he let go of his embrace. 
“Hi” 
“Everything ok?” 
“Everything’s fine Jack” you said not looking at him. “Help yourself if you want” 
Before he could say anything, you walked to the bedroom. 
As went to grab himself some water, he started going through everything that he could’ve possibly done to make you so upset, and that’s when it hit him.
“Fuck” he said to himself as he recalled the horrible things, he told you last night. 
And even though he had already apologized, he knew that wasn’t enough. He immediately dropped everything he was doing and walked upstairs to the bedroom.
“What?” you said dryly upon seeing him while you put your hair in a ponytail.
“I’ve been really stressed out about the album and Ive been taking it out on you. Last night you were just trying to make me feel better and I just snapped at you. And you didn’t deserve any of that and I’m trully sorry” 
“You really hurt me you know that?” 
“I know”
You could feel you’re the tears threatening to fall down. 
“I guess I felt really comfortable with showing that side of me when I’m with you….the talkative side. And…..I was already kind of self-conscious about it, but last night……I just felt so hurt. Is that-” your lip quivered. “Is that how everyone else sees me, as annoying?”
“No, no, no” he said wrapping his arms around you. “You’re the most intelligent and interesting person I know. Like the fact you think of me everything you think about something you find interesting, makes me feel so honored. And I hate myself for making you feel insecure about it or doubt yourself. I was being an asshole and I promise it would never happen again” 
You nodded. 
“Don’t let anyone make you feel less of a person for being yourself. Not even me” he said wiping away your tears. 
You smiled at him. 
“I love you” he said. 
“I love you too”  
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batmanisagatewaydrug · 11 months
Note
Hi sex witch, i realise that this is not an actual sex ed related question and I hope this isn't overstepping any bounds.
I'm sort of in a weird spot right now a la my sexuality and am trying to figure out if I actually want a relationship and if what I feel is romantic attraction or Friendship levelled up. I've known for a long time that I'm Demisexual or Ace, and I thought I knew that I still felt romantic attraction but now I'm less sure.
How did you come to realise that you were aromantic? In that discovery did you ever wonder if it was a sort of 'mental block' or something similar that would be better off working through? (I ask because I'm sort of stuck in that state of mind right now, and I'm just curious to see if it's a common experience or not)
I realise that this is a fairly sensitive topic, and I really don't mean offense by asking.
I also realise that no two people's experiences will be the same but I was interested in hearing about it from another person's perspective.
I hope you have a great day whether or not you give this ask the time of day.
I've asked you other things in the past and it's always been brilliantly helpful. Thanks a lot for everything you do.
hi anon,
no worries about overstepping boundaries :) this is a pretty reasonable thing to ask of someone, and I'm happy to talk about it!
there's a funny story that I tell about the moment I probably should have known, but didn't yet have the language. in sixth grade my class had an assignment that involved making a collage timeline of the rest of our lives (a proto-vision board of sorts) and I think I was the only kid in the class who didn't put getting married on my timeline. everyone else did, as far as I can remember, and most of them also included having kids. being a pedantic little fuck I pointed out to several of my friends that it was really unreasonable to assume they would find someone they liked enough to marry who liked them back, to which everyone told me (paraphrasing) to shut the fuck up and stop being a little bastard.
but it still seemed very strange to me, because even when I was very young - back when I barely had the language to conceptualize being gay, let alone aromantic - I never imagined my life with a romantic partner. romantic pairings were interesting in stories, sure, I ate that shit up from a very young age! the star-crossed lovers shit going on in American Dragon: Jake Long did a number on my developing brain, and my Barbies and Littlest Pet Shops got up to INSANE relationship drama, but for myself it never really felt, like, relevant? not unpleasant, just uninteresting.
but I still had crushes on people as I grew up, and more importantly I had crushes on people of various genders, so during my teen years I was WAY more preoccupied with repressing my burgeoning bisexuality than drawing any conclusions about my romantic orientation
spoilers: the bisexuality won.
in college I had a friend who identified as asexual at the time, who spent maybe a year trying to convince me that I was aromantic. and I didn't want to hear it! I don't know why, honestly; maybe some part of me, despite loving the community I had found coming into my queerness, was still subconsciously afraid of being too different and grappling with the consequences.
so instead I did this uuuuh real dirtbag thing where instead of just acknowledging to myself that I was pretty fundamentally uninterested in romantic relationships and that that's fine, I spent the first half of college leaning hard on self-deprecation to explain my single status. oh, me? why aren't I dating? well, I'd probably be a really bad partner. yeah, I suck. I mean, I'm so busy all the time! and I'm weird.
(at the time I know I definitely had friends who assumed I was Like That because my parents were divorced, which is hilarious old-fashioned and also categorically untrue. I was Like This way before my parents got divorced!)
it actually took a relationship ending pretty badly to make peace with the idea that maybe I didn't want a relationship at all. I won't get into the details on that, because it involves another person and we were both very young and accidentally hurt each other a lot in ways we didn't mean and I don't think anyone was the villain, but I don't want it to come across like I had one bad breakup and then swore off romance, a thing I'd previously been interested in, forever. it was more like I found myself in a really heightened situation - they really desperately needed a good and attentive romantic partner after getting out of a bad relationship, I wanted our friendship to stay exactly the same but with a sexual component - that made very, very obvious what I was actually looking for in non-platonic relationships. which was, I guess, actually pretty platonic relationships, but with genitals involved.
haha just kidding, I actually didn't get that part through my skull until I spent an entire summer crying constantly, dissociating frequently, and spending way too much time on BAD dates having even worse sex that made me feel gross! but we got there eventually.
that part probably isn't super relatable to you if you're somewhere in the ace realm, sorry about that.
anyway, once the dust settled and I felt halfway human again I was feeling vulnerable and open to change - finally willing to see myself in a new way and reckon with parts of myself that I hadn't been before. I remembered what my buddy had always said about me seeming Really Aromantic, and I let it settle on me. how would I feel, if I actually was aromantic? how would it change my life, how I thought about myself?
and if I can use a cliche with you? it felt like a weight rolling off my shoulders. I suddenly had a whole sturdy base to build a better understanding of myself on, an easy way to justify the way I lived that didn't require throwing myself under a bus.
thinking of myself through the lens of aromanticism felt like a huge, HUGE relief, and frankly I think that, more than anything, is the best way for anyone to decide if they should be applying any identity label to themselves. which brings us back to you! I actually don't believe in the model of sexuality and gender that posits a secret innate Right Answer buried in each person that they'll discover if the just find the right terminology. all of the words we use are the result of our time and place, right? people like us existed all through history with different words for themselves, and they'll exist way after us calling themselves things we can't imagine.
so basically: I came to realize I was aromantic because calling myself aromantic felt like loving myself, and if that's the case for you than I strongly recommend you do it, too.
happy pride xoxo
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lostinwoso · 1 year
Note
Please with Alexia 👑 19, 32, 95, 40
19 “I had a nightmare.” ; 32 “Can I sleep here, just for tonight.” ; 40 “Can I kiss you?” ; 95 “Hey, you still awake?”
Jolting up, you look around the room in panic with your heart feeling like it’s about to beat out of your chest. After realizing that you are in your room, you close your eyes again while taking a deep breath and leaning back to sit against the head of the bed. The nightmare felt so real that it took you a while to get your heart to calm down a little.
You know falling back asleep is no option, at least not alone after a bad nightmare like you just went through. Sighing, you reach for your phone on the nightstand to check the time. 1AM. It would be a 50/50 chance for Alexia to be awake.
Alexia and you became friends quickly when you joined the team, the midfielder helping you around the team and showing you the city. Growing even closer after her injury from the euros due to you both living in the same building and you visiting her daily. During that time you also caught a big crush on the captain, but scared of destroying what you built up so far, you decided to keep your feelings to yourself.
Biting your lip in thought, you think about if you should text her or not. After debating about it for a moment, you decide to test your luck. Unlocking your phone, you open the messenger and click on Alexia's name.
Hey, you still awake?
Not long after hitting send, you receive an answer.
Hey, yea, what's up?
Could I come over?
You were kind of nervous of her answer, knowing that asking someone if you are allowed to come over at such a time seems sort of weird.
Of course, did something happen?
I will tell you when I’m there.
Getting out of bed, you slip on your slippers before grabbing your keys and making your way out of your apartment. Taking the stairs to get to her floor, you soon found yourself in front of her door, knocking on the wood.
You don’t have to wait long before the door opens and see Alexia standing there, also in her pajamas, “Come in.”.
“Thank you.”, you say while entering her apartment.
“No problem, what’s up?”, she asks you, while you two walk into her living room and take a seat on the couch.
“I had a nightmare.”, you explain while resting your head on the back of the couch, staring into nothing, “And it felt so real, so I just don’t want to be alone right now.”.
A soft hand landing on your thigh breaks you out of your stare, “I’m sorry to hear that, we can talk over a tea if you like?”, Alexia offers to you.
“That sounds great, thank you.”.
“De nada.”, the midfielder says while getting up and into the kitchen to fix you both a tea.
As soon as the tea was done, Alexia came back into the living room with the two mugs, holding one out to you, “Here.”.
“Thank you.”.
After that, you two fell into a conversation, talking about random topics and joking around while enjoying the tea she made for you two. You both don’t realize how long you have been talking until you start to yawn.
“Aww, is someone tired?”, Alexia teases you, before a yawn also leaves her lips.
“Says you.”, you laugh when she rolls her eyes. A silence falls over both of you.
You know you two should probably head to bed now to get at least some rest, but the thought of getting back into your own bed leaves you uncomfortable.
“Can I, uhm…”, you start off, “Can I sleep here, just for tonight?”, clearing your throat, you continue, “I just don’t feel comfortable going to sleep alone.”.
A soft smile forms on Alexia’s face, “Of course, come on.”.
“Come on?”, you wonder.
“We're going to bed now.”, she shrugs, pulling you up from the couch.
You can’t stop the blush that forms on your face, “Oh, I can just sleep here on the couch, I wouldn’t want to make you uncomfortable by us sleeping together. I mean not together as in, you know what but as in sharing your bed of course, not that I would have a problem with it but just uhm…”, your ramble is put to a stop by Alexia cupping your face in her hands.
“Can I kiss you?”. Shocked by her question, you can’t find in yourself to answer verbally, so instead you nod your head in confirmation.
Alexia starts to lean in but stops before your lips connect, whispering, “Are you sure?”.
This time, you find yourself able to answer, “Yes.”.
With that, Alexia closes the gap between you two and your lips meet in a slow kiss, wanting to savor the moment. When air becomes an issue, she pulls away with a smile forming on her face, which you return.
“Wanna go to bed now or would you still rather sleep on the couch?”, Alexia asks you, while slowly starting to walk towards the bedroom, pulling you along already.
“I don’t know, the couch looks kinda inviting.”, you joke, cueing an eye roll from the woman in front of you.
A few moments later you both find yourself in her bed, cuddled up with your head on her chest, listening to her calming heartbeat. The nightmare now long forgotten.
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neowinestainedress · 2 years
Note
Hihii!! Could i request random moments with bf haechan as an idol <33 just random moments with the members and haechan :))
a/n: hiii, once again quite late at answering but it's here. hope it's what you wanted!!
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Dating an idol is not easy, and you and Haechan know it well. Having to keep it a secret is a burden and it's even worse when the fear of sasaengs weighs on you. 
So Haechan tries his best to make you feel like your relationship is normal. And most of the time it leads to spending time with the other members too. 
When he can he lets you sneak into their dorms, and you often end up staying there even if he’s out, and even if you don’t spend time with him you enjoy mornings like these. 
You hear his alarm blare, an annoying high-pitched sound that technically should be the only thing that wakes him up, but when you sleep with him it’s like he won’t roll down the bed unless your voice awaken him. So you reach behind him, slapping his phone repeatedly until it turns off, and then stare at him. Long lashes resting on his pretty cheekbones, and lips slightly open as he breathes rhythmically. You’d like to get more lost in the features of his face while you think how much you love them and at the same time wonder how can he look like he has been sculpted by God himself, but you can’t. 
“Hyuckie,” you whisper, caressing his cheek, the back of your hand moving up slowly to move a strand of hair. “You need to wake up, babe.” 
He grunts something, squirming and trying to get closer to you to snuggle into the warmth of your body but you chuckle and shake his shoulder. 
“You need to be at SM for practice,” you remind him, lulling him in your embrace hoping it will give him the strength to start the day and not fall asleep once again. And it works, Haechan pulls away, still with a pout on his face, before he yawns. 
“Promise you’ll be here when I come back?” He asks, sitting and rubbing the sleep from his eyes. 
You hum, sitting next to him to kiss him on the cheek. “Might as well just sleep all day in your scent since I don’t have to work today.” 
He groans, but then smiles at you and gets up. “I want to be mad but I can’t blame you if you do. Anyway, the others should stay in, spend time with them.” 
You nod before he leaves to get changed. You’d like to stay up and kiss him goodbye but you fall asleep as soon as your head falls on the pillow, and when he comes back he can only smile at you and fix the sheets on your body so you don’t get cold. 
After some months of dating him, and inevitably getting to know the others, you know that it’s impossible to pick a movie or a series that makes up all the 127’s tastes, so your nights at the dorm always end in one way: singing karaoke. 
You’re not exactly Mariah Carey (dating her male Korean version, but you are not her) but you’re not even that bad and in the end, karaoke is all about fun so you’re always up for it. Also, you can’t complain when you basically get a free concert. 
At the start you used to sit silently in a corner of the couch, watching them having fun and not daring to grab the mic and sing, but soon after Haechan dragged you in front of the tv and didn’t give you a chance to don’t sing a tune with him. 
From then on, you’re the first one that starts, you can’t sit on the couch when you know Jungwoo makes such a great last-minute made-up choreography partner, and your boyfriend cheers for you even if you miss a note. 
Other times you end up eating dinner with the Dream members. You love spending time with them even if they are chaotic and they always find something to bicker about — Donghyuck first in line. You fear that sometimes it will end up in a fight but it never does — not for now, at least. Instead, the night ends with the eight of you on the floor, still eating some of the thousands of things they ordered while laughing at some other dumb topic that had been brought up. 
And as said before, Haechan really tries everything to make it feel normal. He knows how much you’d love to go on public dates, ride a bike on the Han Riverside, or take a walk at night in Hongdae. But you two can’t, so he always tries to come up with other ideas. 
“Ta-da!” He exclaims, opening the door of his bedroom, and pointing to the set-up he made on the floor. A picnic blanket laying next to the window, full of fruit, various foods and drinks, sunlight peeking in, and two pillows for you to sit on. 
“You made all of this?” You ask in surprise, walking toward it with a smile on your face. 
Haechan hums, reaching behind you and resting his chin on your shoulder. “Taeyong helped with something but yeah, I did the rest by myself.” 
So you spent your afternoon there, pretending to be on the outside and having a real picnic, eating delicious snacks and talking about your week and your future plans. 
“We should go somewhere when we’ll both have time,” Haechan proposes, your head resting on his lap as he caresses your hair gently, smiling down at you. “I want to take you away, so we can do this in a real park.” 
You smile, lifting a hand to caress his face. “I’d love it,” you whisper. “But I’m fine as long as I get to be with you. I wouldn't even mind a date in a basement.” 
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bropunzeling · 6 months
Note
⭐star⭐ of any part of linger!!
oh god too much freedom; how do you feel about the brady/quinn relationship reveal? bc i'm gonna do the brady/quinn relationship reveal:
It’s not a great night. Matthew drinks one or two more beers than he should, enough that he’s itchy and heated long past the sun going down. He spends an hour or two swatting at mosquitoes and doing a bad job of ignoring his phone. [he is being such an awful person right now, and he knows it, and he can't stop himself. whomst among us? obvi the main reason is career stress, but i like it also as a subtle hint that heat is coming as well] What makes things worse is there’s seemingly no one to talk to. He’s too old for Taryn and her friends, who are preoccupied by classes and the upcoming field hockey season and incomprehensible friend group drama that Matthew would need a cast of characters to have a hope of figuring out. On the other hand, Brady and Quinn are lost in their own corner of the backyard, chairs angled towards each other as they talk in low voices. No point in trying to break into that conversation. [you can pry "loneliness while in the company of people who love you" as a motif out of my cold dead hands] Matthew barely makes it a few hours before giving up and going to bed.
To add insult to injury, he tosses and turns all night, head full of strange, feverish dreams. The creak of a bed. Low, gasping sounds he can barely hear. The brush of fingers along his spine. Lips pressed against his shoulder. [the way matthew's dreams played out over the course of the fic is one of those things that like, i did it twice and then i realized i was doing a motif lol. like, the way that the dreams are a space where he gets to want things that his conscious self won't allow him to, and how they're tied to his heats but he's not actually in heat at the time? so it's really a like, even when you aren't out of your mind, this is a thing that you want at least subconsciously. and i liked turning it on its head both in the next scene, where it's brady and quinn doing something matthew's so afraid of, and then of course at the end, where the dream leon isn't a dream at all. anyway. i love dreamscapes!]
“Do you want,” Leon says in the dream, almost a question. His eyes are wide and dark, his hair soft in Matthew’s hands. His mouth hovers over the curve of Matthew’s neck, breath hot and wet against Matthew’s skin. So close together that Matthew can’t breathe anything but Leon’s scent, heady and perfect. Matthew tilts his head back, eyes shut, and waits for the scrape of teeth. [it's not just that matthew's horny for leon - he's horny for leon in a specific way that he doesn't want to allow himself to want. he wants leon in the way that means he's falling right into stereotypes about how he as an omega should be, and that's why he finds it so dangerous, because what else does that mean about him? what else does that mean about how he relates to his dynamic?]
He blinks awake with his face pressed into the pillows. They smell like nothing at all.
-
Normally, Matthew isn’t the first to get up when he’s on vacation. But at 7:09, he has to accept that any chance of another hour of shitty, restless sleep is gone. [i love to make people have a horrible night's sleep. this is because i often have a horrible night's sleep. if i suffer so should my blorbos.] Might as well make some coffee about it.
He’s on his second cup of mediocre drip coffee, staring blankly at his phone as it stubbornly refuses to show him any new messages, [looking at this sentence is making me think about, how i use phones in fic??? v off topic lol but like, it's such a useful device. form of self-distraction. form of self-isolation. a thing you keep looking at because you're hoping someone will talk to you. it's especially useful in matthew/leon fic because like, it's one of the only methods for bridging distance. obvi here matthew is most potently wanting a message about his career (the apparent first priority) but later he's also going to be thinking about leon, too] when a clattering draws his attention.
“Oh shit,” Brady says softly, wincing as he picks up the empty seltzer cans he apparently knocked over and drops them by the overflowing recycling bin. [relatable, brady] All he has on is a ratty pair of basketball shorts, which was clearly the bare minimum to make himself presentable for coming downstairs. “I didn’t know you were up.”
Matthew shrugs and slurps his coffee. It doesn’t help the pounding in his temples. [poor matthew with his heat pms] “Yeah, well,” he says, shrugging. “Didn’t sleep great.”
Brady winces again, scratching at the back of his neck. “Sorry.”
“Not your fault,” Matthew says. It’s not like Brady’s responsible for his weird, hazy dreams, or the fact that once they were over he never really drifted off again. [i loved the set up/pay off of these two paragraphs. brady is saying he's sorry by rote/doesn't really think he's the cause, but also he is responsible, because matthew overheard him]
Brady nods, then goes for the cabinets, opening doors until he finds the mugs. He takes down two, pouring coffee into each of them and shoving the empty pot back into the coffeemaker. They’re gonna need some more. Matthew’s about to tell Brady to start brewing another pot when he’s distracted by the shadow of a bruise barely visible under Brady’s jaw. Not just a bruise. A hickey. [i think so far brady and quinn have been relatively careful (relatively) but the thing is, they're young and horny, and they've been talking about telling people, and that makes them be a little less cautious. like leaving marks!] One that Matthew doesn’t remember noticing yesterday. But when would Brady have had the time to—
Matthew shuts his mouth hard enough to accidentally bite his tongue and yelps.
“Dude,” Brady says, staring at him with wide-eyed concern. “Are you okay?”
Matthew blinks away the pain, jiggling his leg under the table until it eases. When it finally ebbs, he manages to gasp out, “Did you and Quinn hook up last night?” [god, this moment was so satisfying to get to. i knew from the start that they were gonna get together mid-fic, but i really wanted the whole brady/quinn relationship evolution to be one of those things where like, it just creeps in really slowly due to matthew's limited perspective. to that effect i was really careful to always make sure i was mentioning quinn in every brady scene, so like, the sense of linkage was there the whole time, but there's still that kind of wham moment when it all comes together. and i think it worked! or at least based on some initial reader comments it worked. hopefully it did :)]
Brady blanches. “What?”
“You have a,” Matthew says, reaching up and poking at the hinge of his jaw until Brady mirrors him. When Brady finds the bruise, his cheeks flush pink. “And—was that you that I heard last night?” The bed creaking, the low murmurs—those weren’t his dream. Those were real. Those were Brady and Quinn, holy shit. [subtle, boys! but again, really loved the like - reality influencing dreams aspect of this (and of course, leading to the payoff of the final dream sequence!)]
“I,” Brady stutters. His face is turning redder and redder. “We were trying to be quiet.”
“Well, you weren’t,” Matthew informs him. His own face is hot. God, how long has this been happening without him knowing? “Since when do you and Quinn hook up?”
“We’re not hooking up,” Brady blurts out. “We’re dating.” [like brady would EVER ~just hook up~, the romantic lil fuck]
Matthew blinks at him. “Dating.” [it's so so so telling that this is the thing matthew is getting stuck on :) hooking up would be understandable, because matthew has done similarly. dating, though,,,]
Brady nods, chin jutting out as he crosses his arms over his bare chest. “Yeah,” he says. “Since April.”
“Oh,” Matthew says. He can’t quite tell what he’s feeling. Relief that he hasn’t missed the obvious for too long. A strange, prickly hurt that it’s apparently been months and Brady hasn’t said a word. [obviously like, brady is gonna end up being mostly in the right in this fight, but every fight is better if both sides are a little bit right, and matthew's right to be hurt! this is a big secret to keep. i wanted matthew's bad reaction to come from an understandable place.] Even though Matthew’s his brother. Even though Matthew’s supposed to know everything Brady’s up to. “But you didn’t—have you told anyone else?”
Brady shakes his head. “Not yet. We were—it was just texting for a while, and phone calls, and stuff. We wanted to make sure we were—you know.” Brady’s as red as a lobster now. “When we were together.” [poor brady unable to think of, let alone say, that they were making sure they were sexually compatible lol]
“I get the picture,” Matthew says, saving Brady before he gets too embarrassed. “But like—you still could’ve said something,” he insists. His voice is strange and wavery and he hates it. [i feel like one of my matthew characterization touchstones is the idea of performance, outer self vs inner self, polished media self vs on the ice self vs self in company of those you trust. and especially in this fic, vulnerability is a big theme - matthew doesn't want to be looked at while he's in heat. matthew doesn't want to be perceived as soft or wanting or needy or upset. he has to be tough, he has to roll with the punches, he can't let other people in! even with the sex positions it comes up! (but if u want more discussion about that u gotta ask about that one :)) ANYWAY all this to say: he is upset here and he knows brady can tell and he hates it.]
Brady rubs his arms. “I wanted to be sure,” he says. “For us to be sure. And I—I don’t know, I wondered if you’d…”
“What?” Matthew asks, when Brady doesn’t keep talking. He would what?
Brady shrugs, an odd, stiff motion. “I dunno. Be weird.”
Matthew’s gut twists. “Why would I be weird?” he asks, voice coming out harder than he means it to. [ohhhhh buddy]
Brady gives another little shrug before looking at Matthew. His expression is familiar, the same pig-headed stubbornness Matthew’s known all his life, except for the flicker in his eyes, the way he licks his lips. [brady is extremely nervous to talk about this (for good reason)] “Well,” he says slowly. “Because I’m an alpha, and Quinn’s…”
“Yeah, I know Quinn’s a beta,” Matthew retorts. [he is trying to be soooo normal and chill about all these revelations and failing completely] He grabs his mug and takes a sip of coffee. Big mistake. The acidity makes his stomach churn even more. [i do love to make a stomach churn. lol. rip to those of us who want to throw up when we're nervous] “Why would I be weird about that?”
“I don’t know, because you’ve always been weird about that shit?” [it's always the people who know you best who can cut you down the fastest, isn't it. and brady basically has matthew's psychological profile memorized]
Matthew recoils, stung. “No, I’m not.”
“Yeah, you fucking are,” Brady snaps back. Now his shoulders are set, feet planted far apart, ready to take up the whole kitchen. Matthew can catch Brady’s scent now, too, the sticky malt and yeast of a spilled beer that always grows stronger when he’s upset. [trying to come up with a scent profile for literally anyone other than leon (whose i knew at the outset) was like pulling teeth. for someone who does not think about smells at all, i sure picked a poor subject matter. anyway for brady i was like, wouldn't it be funny if he smelled kind of like a frat house when he's upset, and then i went for it. he smells much better when he's happy, more like fresh bread. also quinn's a beta so it doesn't matter in any case. it takes all sorts!] “You may act like dynamics don’t matter to you, like it’s all bullshit, but you’re the one who always thought that I—that every alpha wants to find a nice omega to court. That everyone wants a bond. That everyone wants to be traditional.” [i was musing on twitter the other day that i don't always write on a ~sentence~ level - when i'm writing, i'm really thinking about where i want the scene to go or what beat i want to hit and the particulars of any given sentence isn't that big a deal (though obviously i want things to have rhythm, flow, etc - it's a very "i know it when i write it" thing). that said, with every long fic i often have a dialogue exchange that i want to get in there that i've thought about a lot, and this was one of them. i knew i wanted someone calling matthew on his bullshit - how he acts like he's tough and somehow different from other omegas (which is very internalized something of him!) but he falls into the same traps that he's trying to avoid, stereotyping alphas the way he would hate to be stereotyped - and i knew it was gonna be brady.]
Matthew blinks at him, feeling oddly off-balance. He’s not used to this version of Brady, angry and bowling him over in a way that’s nothing like wrestling for an Xbox controller or blocking each other out playing basketball in the driveway. Saying that Matthew’s the one who cares too much, when it’s not even caring, not really. It’s just knowing how the world works. [i looooove this little beat, because he thinks that! he really does! despite all the evidence that brady and leon and johnny & sean and his own parents have provided to show that there's no one way to be with other people] “I don’t think—”
Brady cuts him off. “Yeah, you do. But you know what? I don’t want to have a bond by twenty-five. I don’t want to do any of that shit. It doesn’t fucking matter.”
“You sure about that?” [this is such a older sibling way to fuck up. as in i have done this myself in arguments with my younger sibling! there is no better way to piss them off than to doubt they know what they want.]
It’s the wrong thing to say. He knows as soon as the words leave his mouth. But there’s no chance of walking them back. Not when Brady’s lips are pressed together so hard they’ve gone white.
“I know what I want,” Brady says after a moment. His voice is choked up, and Matthew can’t tell if it’s because he’s angry or because he’s about to cry. Fuck, he hopes it’s not the latter, but he thinks that it is. [it is :(] “I’ve known for years. I’m not gonna change my mind.” [the brady/quinn backstory and specifically brady longing for quinn for literal years is some of my favorite shit to contemplate and work in, it was so nice and wholesome compared to rat boy's mess.. he was just a gangly little guy, getting used to a whole new world of smells and instincts, and here he is falling ass over teakettle for his best friend!]
“Brady—”
“I’m not,” Brady says, glaring back at Matthew. “Just because you want to be like Dad doesn’t mean I do.” [another line i always knew i wanted in here. matthew wants to be like his dad and can't. brady could be like his dad and doesn't want to. :)]
And with that, Brady grabs the coffee mugs and walks away.
“Brady,” Matthew says, standing halfway up, banging his thighs into the kitchen table. “Brady.” He doesn’t know what to say next, how to fix this, but it doesn’t matter. Brady’s already gone. [sorry to rat boy for making you fuck up so much. i will again.]
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scoonsalicious · 15 days
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okay, thoughts on the latest happenings hmm, first off, I love Tony and Pocket's brother-sister dynamic, it's so funny and sweet. If it were me, I would've asked for a house and a retirement fund and a bunch more but then again, she is already working for Stark Industries, so I think she's already set lmao. And obviously, we already knew Tony didn't authorize the shit Joseph just pulled, but I'm still not buying the fact that she did it alone. I mean, she could've since she's well capable, but something is still very fishy about it.
which brings me to Steveioli (I really like the nickname now, it flows off the tongue so well), hmm, okay, I don't think he's that bad now, but still keeping one eye open because I still don't trust him. Which brings me to my first theory, I feel like this short interaction between him and Pocket is going to cause something. And Juniper will be the one pulling the strings because lol the manipulative sack of shit she is. Like, she's probably good with tech too, so what if she managed to get footage of the dance, or just Steve walking Pocket to her room and then show it to Bucky? (or maybe Steve would give it himself but i digress) And I fear that's going to trigger something ESPECIALLY knowing how Jocelyn is going to spin it. And yeah technically Bucky and Pocket aren't together albeit the blurred lines with this friendship, so she doesn't really owe him anything. But, I wished she could've told Bucky about the interaction with Steve first so he knows the truth of what happened before Jennifer manages to twist it. AGAIN THEORY. But I really do have a feeling Something is going to trigger Bucky to do something rash (not cheat, but I can't pinpoint as to what yet. Maybe some harsh words being spoken or him defending Jomar again). Either way, it's going to be related to Steve because he always seems to be a sensitive topic.
Also, to add, why was my danger alert flaring when Steve handed Pocket that lemonade? Is that me being paranoid? lol but then again, we don't really know what's going on with Pocket being sick so maybe I'm just reaching. But since I have an inkling that she was given something, I'd be wary of accepting drinks from anyone. ESPECIALLY the person who's still madly in love and probably has a secret mission to break a relationship for good. But hey, maybe that's just me.
And I'm so anxious as to what's going to happen on the mission. (help as i was typing this a theory came to mind) What if Bucky gets badly hurt because Jakari sabotages it just like she did with Rhodey? But instead of Bucky being mad at her, he's still going to defend her? Say something about it wasn't her fault blah blah blah and it's going to anger Pocket especially if badly is hurt. OR OR ON THE FLIP SIDE, what if Judith intentionally hurts herself and make it look like Bucky didn't defend her or somehow makes a spin that it was his fault? THEN he'd start taking care of her, not because of anything fishy or feeling wise, but because he feels GUILTY and feels like he HAS to which, goes back to what you said about the way he followed through with his actions. Idk idk I'm probably reaching and I could be so so wrong haha sorry i'm just a theory girly
But anyways, CONGRATS ON FINISHING THE FIC. that's a great achievement you should definitely celebrate! Though I do get this would bittersweet though. But hey, don't be sad that it's over, be glad it happened. Keep doing what you're doing! you're amazing, lots of love!
— Jnon 🤍
Jnon! Hearing from you never fails to make my day! NEVER. I love you and you're perfect. I love writing Tony and Pocket. They bring me so much joy with their banter. Right now, though, Pocket's got no need for a house. I leaned on it much more in earlier drafts, but Pocket's fucking loaded. Like, she may not be a billionaire, but she aint' hurtin', lol. Obviously, Tony didn't send Joe Jonas to Russia; he hates her almost as much as Pocket does at this point, but as for whether or not she got in on her own... well, we shall have to wait and see!
As for Steveioli, it does roll off the tongue so smoothly! There are definitely repercussions concerning his encounter with Pocket at the gala, which you'll start hearing about this afternoon! I want to say so much more, but EEP! I cannot not! I will say, the lemonade, like the Thai food, was safe. No worries there. It was more like Steve trying to make a point to Pocket that he knows her so well. Pathetically. Your theories as to what could happen on the mission with Bucky and Jabba the Hut are fantastic; I wish I had come up with any one of them, but I did not. :( And finally, THANK YOU SO MUCH! I had a moment yesterday where I typed the final sentence and was just like "shit; now what do I do with my life?" I'm pleased to say, I'm ten pages in to With Friends Like These already, so I think we'll be good, lol. And while I was so happy to finally be rid of The Famous Jett Jackson (wow-- that's a throwback; I'm old), I'm nowhere near done with Pocket, I think. I love her too much, lol. As always, I love getting your responses. They make my day! J'scoons
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sassycordy · 2 years
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What is the sga debacle?? Did he do something specific?? I only know that he also made the shows Dark Matter and Utopia Falls which both have diversity and representation so that makes me hopeful for the same treatment in a new stargate series.
hi! whew im so sorry im just getting to this lmfao. truthfully ive been rly busy and this is such a serious topic that i wanted to make sure i chose my words carefully and laid everything out in the best way possible. 
disclaimer section! im not the best person to speak on this topic ahha. I just got into the fandom last year and it was only a few months ago that i started to hear some of these issues that existed previously (so if any veteran stargate fans wanna hop in on this and explain things in greater detail, please do)! also this is not a call out post or canceling thing. this is simply a hey-these-things-happened-and-maybe-we-should-be-careful-with-who-we-interact-with-and-trust type thing. anyways without further ado, here’s some of the sketchy shit that went down behind the scenes of stargate atlantis! (all sources are posted in the comment/replies btw)
> let’s start with the decision to kill off carson beckett because thats where the first weird comment pops up. now a lot of people claim that this was a move made by writers & producers to shake up the show and “make the actors feel less secure.” i’ve never been able to find that direct quote although ive heard people say that someone openly admitted it on the audio commentary/bonus features on the atlantis dvds soo take that however you like aha.
> after the sudden exit of paul mcgillion, tori higginson left the show a few episodes later anddddd ok this is where things escalate. this is an interview she gave where she openly talks about everything that went on behind the scenes. but to summarize, the writers ignored all of her input and refused to grow the character further when she had clearly outgrown the “Hammond” role. joseph mallozzi states in his blog post that brad wright himself was very fond and loved the weir character and he claims that the decision to write her out was because of “just simple logic.”(1) however, torri tells a different story. (2) 
“Honestly? I found that quite shitty, to be honest (laughs).Oops. But I found out, because I kept going to them, I kept going up to them saying ‘I have a feeling my character, you’re not doing anything with me, and you guys have me for six years and I don’t want to, you know, be here not doing anything. Let me know what’s going on.’ And they kept saying “no, no, no, it’s great. We love you. We love you. Things can be great.’ And I said ‘well, if that’s the case, can we do something with her’ and they kept reassuring me that nothing - and the very last day of filming season three, as I finished filming the last scene on the last day I was called up to the office and was told that my character was going to become recurring if I chose to be. So, I thought that was not very, um, dignified, way to deal with it, and I was a bit surprised. So I was—so my reaction was one of yeah, I was a little bit surprised. I was a little bit upset by how it was dealt with. But I wasn’t upset at the decision because I understood it. I kept going to them saying ‘I get, I get what’s going to happen, just give me some notice so I can pack my apartment and move back to L.A. Really. So I wasn’t upset with the decision. I was upset with how it was handled.”
she was led on and told her role would be reduced after the filming of season three which is uh. absolutely insane to think about considering she’s the main female lead of the show. And this is just my personal opinion but i think its interesting timing that as soon as brad stepped down, joseph mallozzi and his writing partner, paul mullie got rid of her. It’s also pretty telling that there was some bad blood behind the scenes because she didn’t even reprise her character in season five for the ghost in the machine aka the episode where they “kill elizabeth” off. although i do wanna mention that since then, jm has posted that he believes elizabeth would actually still be alive today and is just in stasis somewhere waiting to be found …which is nice. i guess. maybe they shouldn’t have fired her in the first place but hey whatever. 
and to end the torri section, here’s another quote that i think is the real reason she was let go from atlantis.
Question: And now Amanda Tapping seems to be doing exactly the same… just filing an episode. Torri said “Well, no. I understand that it’s a club, and you know, some people.. .you know. I think they didn’t like me constantly rapping on the doors saying ‘excuse me, why aren’t there any women writers or any women producers on the show?’ I think it bothered them. And so, Amanda, bless her, just had a kid so... bless her, man, she needs that gig more than [me]… you know what I mean? So I have no issues with any of them. I understand how it works. It is a bit of a political game and… I’m not very good at politics (laughs). I’m like Weir. I just want to act.”
> now this is where the joe flanigan of it all starts to come in. he’s been vocal about defending torri higginson and openly saying how bad of a decision it was to kill her off. (3) and his interview with dial the gate was enlightening on a few topics. (4)
his character didn’t get a backstory until season 3. tptb literally told him, “john likes ferris wheels” and called it a day. which is actually mind boggling. they gave him nothing to work with and somehow he turned it into gold. 
he’s also said many times and in different interviews how terrible it was that the writers carried over from sg1. the cast would pitch ideas but would be shut down because they would sound “too much like an sg1 ep” which is ridiculous considering how many atlantis scripts are just a rip off of sg1 eps anyways.
> and finally the whole whispers debacle. now i don’t really know a lot about this, so I'll just link the tumblr post that first brought this to my attention! (5) there’s also the whole “the writers stopped taking notes from the cast after season 3 and specifically started to shun joe out”  thing (which is very obvious in seasons 4 and 5) so i’ll also link another great tumblr post because they explain it so much better than i can. (6)
> there’s also the fact that once it became clear that universe was not doing well, both bw and jm turned and blamed it on atlantis and even sg1 fans.
“I don’t think if we, for any reason, go away, it is an issue necessarily of the quality of the product that we’ve been making. I think getting moved on the schedule has hurt us. And the fact that some of the fans that liked SG-1 and Atlantis were so angry that they have deliberately hurt us, which is unfortunate.” (7) Brad Wright. 
Jaso967060 writes: “Heck I think alot of people from “that other site” could be won back if some changes are made. (Finding out the Destinys Mission and the crew working together more instead of tearing each other down…and having more action…changes like that.)” 
Answer: Disagree. Given that their deluded mission statement is to see SGU cancelled in order to pave the way for an SGA return, I doubt that very much. (8) Joseph Mallozzi
this post is getting too long so i won’t go into the whole “stargate atlantis viewers were not the right demographic the writers wanted” thing. because yes this may have been said by one of the writers (i don’t have a source but so many people bring it up and it makes sense considering the type of show universe is). also joe flanigan talked about how the writers and producers disrespected atlantis fans and he sorta mentions this quote too so im gonna link it. (9) also i would just like to say huge shoutout to joe for not caring to be diplomatic lol. 
but yea. please take this post however you would like. all of this happened years and years ago so one can only hope people have learned from their mistakes. and if a fourth stargate show is ever made, I just pray they'll finally have women and poc writers/producers/directors as main contributors. also joseph mallozzi has done so many interviews with dial of the gate in recent years, so i would check those out if anyone would like to hear his current thoughts on stargate. (if you do, please message me because i would love to know if he acknowledges any of these topics ahah). 
and to end this lovely post, let's reminisce on that one time joe flanigan called the writers of atlantis “rodney mckays” <3
“Because the writers are all McKays – they are the collective Rodney McKay. It’s a whole load of little McKays running round up there in the offices.” (10)
so sorry this took a million years to respond to ahha. and i may have gotten a bit sidetracked but i hope i answered your question !!
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