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#if you're still reading - thanks :) you're a real one
joelsgu4tar · 3 days
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JOEL MILLER FIC RECS
⇾ 18+ minors DNI, read at your own risk! ⇽
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an appreciation to all my favourite writers out there you deserve all the love <3
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Series
— Something To Fight For by @auteurdelabre | After a disastrous blind date you decide to stay away from the miserable Joel Miller forever...
— I Know Who You Are by @punkshort | A fall on patrol causes you to lose your long-term memory, forgetting the identities of your friends and loved ones. You have to learn all over again how to survive in a post-apocalyptic world, and you learn things about yourself along the way.
— The One You Need by @loliwrites | When you move into town hellbent on keeping everyone at arm’s length, your neighbour Joel finds his way into your life.
— By The Grit Of Sandpaper by @penvisions | An offhand comment from you inspires Joel to branch out and create helpful kitchen wares. And it seems everyone has been gifted one from him, except for you. It makes you rethink the casual friendship you had developed...
— I Wanna Be Your Lover by @shellshocklove | Miserable after losing your job, your friend drags you out to a club to dance away your sadness. on the dancefloor, you meet a handsome stranger, who then whisks you away into his fantasy world as his assistant for his porn career. what happens when the lines get blurred?
— If The Door Wasn't Shut by @heartpascal | months of travelling with Joel and Ellie come crashing down on you, the fear is suffocating.
— Stay In Bed by @psychedelic-ink | After your grandfather’s passing, you find yourself moving into his home in Texas. You meet the Millers; Tommy, his older brother Joel and his daughter Sarah. With time, you and Tommy become close friends and Sarah visits you often. But Joel…Joel keeps his distance.
— That's A Real Fucking Legacy by @wyn-n-tonic | When Tommy disappears in search of a better life with a promise to come back for you, his years of absence and the grief it leaves behind drives you and his brother closer together until the man you're sharing a bed and starting a family with is Joel Miller and not the one you always thought it would be.
One-Shots
— No Time To Die by @davosmymaster | The main difficulty of being Joel’s closest friend is not falling in love with him, but you still do. Those feelings are buried until you join him on a mission to trade supplies with Bill and Frank. With your life now hanging by a thread, Joel is determined to get you to safety, but the clock is ticking faster than he can run.
— White Lies by @poeticpascal | Joel would do anything for you. He does anything for you. And he makes sure you don't know a thing.
— Saying Thanks by @vivwritescrappythings | Joel is your grumpy patrol partner who doesn’t even talk to you in the streets of Jackson. But one night a man grabs your arm at the Tipsy Bison, and Joel’s decided he doesn’t like it.
— Soft & Sweet by @cavillscurls | You share your first kiss with the last man you ever expected: your older, grouchy, overly protective patrol partner, Joel Miller.
— Who We Are by @gracieheartspedro | Being stuck on the road with an older guy you've been crushing on for ages won't be so bad, right? wrong. because he's been pining after you, too. and one of you will have to give in eventually.
— Warm Me Up by @tightjeansjavi | While on patrol, you and Joel find yourselves caught in a treacherous snowstorm.
— Love In the Time Of Cordyceps by @sameheart-sameblood | When the world ends, you promise you'll never love again. Joel Miller makes that rule hard to stick to.
— Puppy Love by @absurdthirst | You always follow Joel Miller around, you've got his back. You're in love with him. Putting up with Tess's nickname of puppy dog, you don't realize that Joel feels for you until the end.
— Light The Flame by @yeollie-plz | Your mom moves the two of you back to Texas and attempts to reignite an old flame. What will happen when she learns his candle now burns for you?
— Best I Ever Had by @endlessthxxghts | Someone tries to hit on you on your night out with Joel, insulting your man in the process, and oh you don't like that. You blow off some steam in more ways than one.
— Make A Move On Me by @freelancearsonist | You've been teasing Joel every day since he started remodelling construction on your house. He finally works up the courage to do something about it - but not in the way you expect him to.
— Fire Walk by @motherofagony | A chance encounter at a motel has you crossing paths with a stranger in a blue t-shirt.
— Cry Baby by @psychedelic-ink | bodies have been dropping left and right in the most brutal ways in Jackson. As the relentless wave of deaths continues, your mind becomes increasingly restless. however, you find a sense of comfort and solace in the presence of Joel. who might be hiding secrets of his own.
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livanas · 2 days
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Astrology observations
Aqua mars are the true embodiment of "it's above me now". I've noticed most of them rarely if ever get angry or pissed off and even when they do, there's like no passion. My mother has this placement and almost nothing bothers her. They could also have some very weird kinks.
Sag mercuries speak too much and think they know everything. Very condescending, know it all energy. Doesn't matter whether they're right or not.
taurean women's romantic relationships tend to be noticeably unequal in some sort of way, usually physically, financially, or status/fame wise; also are the hallmark of loyalty, mired with struggle.
virgo sun, asc, and 10th house will produce a polished person. classic with a hint of sexy. they will not publicly twerk in a bikini or flash you their thong. virgos in general (sun, moon, asc) have no issue with plastic surgery. they won't talk about it because it breaks the illusion of their perfection.
I feel sorry for people who have Venus/Mercury/Mars in Scorpio and Moon in Capricorn. How does it feel to always walk around like you're constipated emotionally, verbally,physically and spiritually?
venus and mars in aries is pure xes, lust, and passion, it's tango. to chase and be chased is the answer to them.
Libras with Taurus rising are the definition of HOT. Double Venus is the best combo in terms of beauty.
Someone doesn't need to fall into your 5, 7 and 8h for you to be interested. They could also just aspect the rulers or contain that influence in their natal.
I find most Aries moons to have a very fighting spirit. Can be quite annoying sometimes.
Lilith in 10H seem to be lusted by many.
Mars conjunct Neptune : Psycho killer
Mars square Saturn : dictator, racist
Venus square/opposite Neptune/Uranus : homosexuality
Mercury conjunct/square/opposite Pluto : Scamer
Mercury conjunct Uranus : Mercury/Uranus aspects gives one who is intelligent/book smart yet the native may have issues with sleep. The mind is moving nonstop! Similar to mercury/mars aspects.
Sun square asc. What you see is not what you get.
Capricorn Mars women. Have an iron fist in a velvet glove demeanor about them. People don’t take them seriously at first but eventually they outlast all the rest.
Taurus Venus men. Physical touch is their love language.
Venus sq Saturn women. They really love to stick with their man. Through thick and thin. For better or worse. No matter how degrading and embarrassing it is. They need to work on their self worth.
Pluto in the 12th - cult like following. Donald Trump, Taylor Swift, Ted Bundy, Tom Brady.
Saturn in hard aspect to MC - disliked by the public for no real reason, subjected to ‘cancel culture’
Cardinals are pimps.. they start things with no intentions in finishing them. In hopes to use people to finish it, That's why they constantly "networking"... it's to fund a lifestyle
Mars opposite Saturn is such a nasty placement to have because of the whole "timing" thing. It literally feels as if there's some outside forces working against you and stopping your motives and actions. I still have no idea how to work with this placement. It literally feels like bad luck.
_ Thanks for reading xoxo_
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skzstannie · 1 day
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"They found her"
SKZ -> ot8 x 9th member fem! reader
This is a part 2 to this fic, but it can be read as a stand alone as there's not much reference to the original fic.
genre: hurt/comfort, angst wc: ~3,800 words cw: kidnapping, guns and gunshot wounds, hospitals, some brief cursing
Summary: Since the incident, the guys have been extremely over protective of you. You heed their warnings, but still go out unaccompanied by security on your vacation, only to have to pay the price for your poor decisions.
A/N: Hiiii, ik I've disappeared off the face of the Earth again, but I've brought gifts back with me this time. This one's a bit heavier, but it's the long awaited part 2 to "Did you know?", so I hope you guys enjoy. I hit 500 followers since the last time I posted, so this is kind of a celebratory post as well. Thanks guys!
Masterlist | Happy Scrolling!
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The time has come around again when JYP has given you and your members some well-earned personal vacation, and you've chosen to spend that time back at home with your family and friends.
Upon hearing about your vacation, your childhood friends started blowing up your phone, asking about when you'll be in and if you wanted to hangout. Of course, you've missed them just as much and gave them all the details of you're arrival.
The day of said plans has finally arrived, and you couldn't be more excited. You and three of your closest friends have decided to go to this cute breakfast cafe for brunch, run by all your favorite stores for some shopping, and then round your evening out with some bar hopping.
"You have got to see this!" Ha-Yoon, a friend you've known since grade school, explodes from beside you in the passenger seat, fanning herself. "Look at how hot this guy is? Think he'll give me his number if I DM him?"
"Are you being for real?" Dae cringes from the backseat, leaning forward to get a closer look at your friend's new internet crush. "He's kinda ugly."
This elicits a bickering match for the remainder of the drive, with you and your remaining friend, Soon-Bok, rolling your eyes at their silly banter.
You decided that you'd pick them all up from their homes, figuring that you'd get to spend some more time with them that way. You didn't really think about the fact that perhaps more time was synonymous with too much time. Just because you hadn't seen your friends in months, doesn't mean that they didn't see each other literally every single day.
With a clear of your throat, they stop insulting each other's fantasy love interests, both squealing when they realize you've pulled into the parking lot for the cafe.
The four of you get out of the car, you pulling your keys out of your purse to lock the doors. While walking towards the doors of the cafe, you're hit with a strange feeling- like someone's watching you.
Immediately, you whip your head around in search of anyone getting a little too nosey, but you come up with nothing. You keep your guard up though, knowing you can never be too sure.
Since the stage incident a few months back, you've been feeling a little paranoid. Understandably so, especially since the mean and threatening comments never subsided. It's gotten to the point where the staff have begun to send out a few extra security guards each time you leave the JYP building. In fact, JYP gave you all this nice little vacation in hopes it'd help some of the comments die down. To your dismay, they have not.
The guys have been incredibly protective since then, and you're actually grateful for it for once. Their constant questions about your whereabouts and wanting to tag along with you everywhere you go used to annoy you, but you'd never think to complain about it now.
Just this morning, having told them about your exciting plans for the day, they sent a barrage of texts telling you to be careful. Chan practically demanded you take a security guard with you, but for the sake of your friends' comfortability, you declined. Was it stupid? Possibly, but you're only wish for this vacation is to make things seem normal again. Having constant security around is not normal.
You placated Chan by telling him that your family knows of the places you'll be, and your family and the rest of your members all have your location at all times. He was reluctant, almost threatening to fly himself to your home just to go out on your little excursion with you, but he eventually gave way, not without first lecturing you about how important your safety is- like you didn't already know that.
~ ~ ~
"And then he pushed him down the stairs! How crazy!" Dae finishes, your eyes widening at how her story ended. She had just finished telling you all about how her boyfriend got into this big fight with a guy at the bar the other day. Apparently, the random man thought it acceptable to lay his hands on Dae, and her boyfriend did not appreciate that.
"Your boyfriend is so hot," Ha-Yoon comments, her eyes looking dreamily off into the distance.
"Excuse me?" Dae questions, raising a brow at Ha-Yoon's confession.
"I mean-"
"Ok!" you interrupt, pushing your chair back from the table you've all been sat at. The brunch was nice, catching up with your friends was much needed and the food was warm and comforting, but enough is enough, and your friends are starting to get a bit squeamish. "I need to use the restroom quickly, then we can head to the mall? Does that sound ok?"
There's a chorus of yesses, and they shoo you off into the restroom, picking up their phones to distract themselves until you get back.
You make your way to the back of the cafe, noticing how the bathrooms are secluded down a small hallway in the corner of the restaurant. Your eyes glance out the emergency exit door, and you tilt your head in confusion upon seeing a large white van sat outside it. It is not parked in a parking spot; it's just parked directly outside the door.
You quickly do your business, not wanting to keep your friends waiting for too long, and head back out to the front of the cafe. Stepping outside the restroom, a hand is immediately thrown over your mouth, a piece of foul smelling cloth pressed up against your nose. You try to scream, but this only causes you to inhale more of the chemical.
You fight, attempting to throw an elbow behind you to dislodge yourself from the person's vice like grip, but this only leads to your elbow being grabbed at a painful angle. You whimper slightly as the person pries your elbow behind you, and it almost feels as if your arm could snap if you were to move another inch. You become lightheaded, and it's hard to keep your eyes open and your mind alert. Unable to fight any longer, you give in and slump down into the arms which hold you captive.
~ ~ ~
"She's been gone awhile, I'm gonna go-" Soon-Bok is cut off by an alarm inside the cafe going off. All the customers heads perk up at the noise, their attention drifting to the employees.
The waitresses look to one another in confusion before one makes their way over to where you went for the restroom a few minutes before. The cafe is silent as the waitress disappears, looking for where the alarm would be coming from.
It's silent for another minute, before there's an audible gasp. She comes back with your purse in one hand and your cracked phone in the other.
Your three friends quickly get up from their seats, rushing over to the waitress. "Where'd you find this?" Dae asks, her eyes tearing up.
"Just outside the bathroom. I was just able to catch a glimpse of a van speeding off. Do you think someone was taken?" she asks, her eyes widening at the thought.
"I think- I think our friend was kidnapped," Ya-Hoon whispers.
~ ~ ~
"This is why I said she needed a security guard with her! This would have never happened!" Chan snaps at their management in anger, rising up from his seat in the meeting room.
Upon hearing about your kidnapping, the rest of your members were immediately brought back to the JYP building. They were all livid.
"Chan, I understand you're upset, but there's really nothing we can do now but wait-"
"Wait for what? Huh? Wait for her to just magically appear here?" Minho cuts off the head of security, his face red with anger.
"Of course the police are on the case and doing everything they can to find her. As for the eight of you, you are not to leave this building until we get all of this under control. Do you hear me? We do not need more than one missing member." JYP is stern as he speaks, leaving no room for discussion. "This meeting is dismissed. We will update you all if we hear anything."
With that, everyone else clears out of the room, leaving your eight members.
"This is awful," Felix says, his head hanging in his hands.
"No shit, Felix, why not state more of the obvious," Jisung narrows his eyes at Felix.
"We can't turn on each other," Changbin butts in, deterring them from getting into it any further. "We have to stick together and just wait this out. She's strong; she'll be ok."
"But what if she's not," Hyunjin speaks up for the first time since they got back. He's been huddled up against Jeongin since they got there, his head hung low. It's obvious he's been crying with the way his cheeks are stained with tears, his eyes red from how often he's rubbed them.
"We can't think like that," Chan says, moving over to Hyunjin. He lays a comforting arm around his shoulders, and Hyunjin immediately moves to the comfort of the leader, turning his head to hide it in Chan's chest. "They saw the van leave, it couldn't have been too long before the police were there. They'll find her, and then she'll be right back here with us."
"To never be let out of our sights again," Seungmin grumbles from the couch, wearing a similar expression to that of Felix's.
"Correct," Minho agrees, leaning back in his chair.
~ ~ ~
"Seungmin, you have to sleep. Staying up for 72 hours straight is not going to make her come back any faster," Chan lays his hand on the back of the boy's neck, slightly rocking him side to side.
"Maybe not, but I'll be the first to know when they find her," he counters, his bloodhsot eyes meeting Chan's. "You're one to talk; you haven't slept either."
Chan just sighs in response, plopping down on the couch next to him. It's quiet between the two of them, but neither are complaining about it. The peace is nice after what they've been through the past few days.
"Hyunjin hasn't stopped crying. Jeongin and Felix have had to take turns laying with him," Seungmin breaks the quiet, his soft voice travelling throughout the practice room. "Han hasn't eaten since we found out."
"I know, I've been trying to get everyone up and moving, but no one's interested."
"Chan, we're not expecting you to be the hero. We know you're in pain, too, and it's ok to act like it," it takes Chan a minute to process what Seungmin had said, but as his brain takes time, he realizes that it's been so long since he's cried, so long since he's truly let his emotions out.
With another moment passing, Chan's breath quickens and tears spring into his eyes. Without another thought, he turns his head into Seungmin's shoulder and cries. He cries for you, and how scared you must be right now, and he cries for the rest of his members, knowing how bad this is hurting them. He cries because he can't take away their pain or yours, not this time.
~ ~ ~
"Wake up." You feel a cold splash of water hit your face, and you're abruptly brought to consciousness. Your eyes open quickly in response to the cold, but you squint once you're hit with the blinding light coming from the ceiling light above you.
You try to talk, to say anything, but you quickly become aware of the duct tape placed snuggly over your mouth.
You gain some more proprioception, feeling the tightness of the rope around your wrists and how your ankles are tied to the legs of the chair you're currently sat on.
"Hey!" Your attention is brought to the large man standing in front of you, and your breath hitches in your throat at the sight of the gun in his hand. "Eyes here. And quit squirming so much!"
You freeze at that, stilling your movements. "Now listen here," you hear another guy say from across the room. You are just noticing him for the first time, and you realize that this guy in front of you must be the brawn of the operation. "We need some money. A lot of money. So, if you want to make it out of here alive, you need to call your family and have them bring us 350 million won. No less. Think you can handle that princess?"
Tears well in your eyes at the mention of death. You can't die like this, at the hands of these awful people. But you also know you don't want to get your family involved. So, deciding this is your best bet, you sit stoically. You look straight ahead, your focus unwavering.
"The silent treatment, huh?" You can see out of your periphery the man at the desk across the room stand from his chair. He makes his way towards you, but you pay him no mind, keeping your blank stare on the wall in front of you.
"If the threat's not enough to get you to talk, maybe this will be." He's quick to take the gun from the other man's hand, and before you can even flinch he's pointed it at your lower leg and let off a shot.
You choke on your own spit when the pain registers. You close your eyes and strain your body not to react, but there's only so much you can do. The tears you were successfully keeping at bay before now slide freely down your cheeks. Your hands are in tight fists behind your back, and you feel you may pass out from the white-hot pain radiating from your calf.
Your consciousness teeters, and all words being spoken by the men sound gibberish in your state. Just as you feel you may fall completely unconscious, you're startled by a loud bang from behind you. Your eyes lazily drift to the men, and you see their gazes widen before they quickly raise their hands in surrender. You make eye contact with the one that shot you, and that's the last thing you see before your eyes shut, your body and mind going completely numb.
~ ~ ~
The practice room door is flung open, bringing Chan out of his sleepy state. "What the hell? Be a little quieter would you," he mumbles, rolling his eyes at Jisung who stands in the doorway. For the first time since the news, Chan is attempting to get some sleep. It wasn't exactly on his own accord, though. After the constant hounding from the rest of the members, and even a threat from Felix that he'd sneak melatonin into his water, he decided it would probably be best for him to try and get some shut eye; he'll be of no use to anyone if he's delirious with sleep.
"They found her."
At this, all of Chan's previous drowsiness vanishes. He sits up from the couch faster than he ever has before, his joints cracking with such a sudden movement. "What?" he asks for clarification, fearing it might be too good to be true.
"They've found her. She's on the way to the hospital right now," Jisung's contagious smile makes more sense now, Chan wearing a similar expression.
"Where are the rest of the boys?" Chan stands from the couch in a rush, quickly slipping his shoes on.
"They're in the meeting room. They just bought our flight there, we're leaving now."
~ ~ ~
"Thank you," you tell the nurse, taking the small cup of water from her hands. It's been a few hours since you woke up from your unconscious state. Upon arriving at the hospital, they immediately took you into surgery to remove the bullet from your leg. Thankfully, it missed all the important stuff, leaving your bones completely in tact. You're left with some muscle damage, but the doctor assured you with some physical therapy you'd be back to normal again.
You're now laying in bed recovering. The wound has been stapled and is wrapped tightly. You have your leg resting on a couple pillows, hopefully to help prevent the swelling. Beside you on the couch is your family, having come in immediately upon hearing the news. Some silly K-Drama is playing on the T.V, but it's enough to keep your mind occupied for now, so you're thankful for it.
Nobody confirmed it for you, but you were sure your members were well on their way. Your family told you that you had been kidnapped for a few days. You told them you only remember being awake for a few minutes, but apparently they kept knocking you out again and again.
After talking with the police, you find that they were using you for ransom, and they kept knocking you out because they didn't have everything squared away yet; whatever that means, you're not quite sure.
As if on cue, the door to your room swings open, revealing Chan and Minho. They're out of breath and sweaty, looking as if they had just run a marathon.
You're given no time for formal greetings as they both launch themselves at you, throwing their arms haphazardly around you until you feel like you're squished beneath them. Your mom makes a protesting sound, but you wave her off with a gesture of your hand. They missed you, and you missed them. They weren't hurting you or anyone else by hugging you.
"You're never leaving our sights again," Chan says, his cheek pressed against the top of your head.
"Never ever," Minho agrees, his torso laid lightly across your lap.
"I'm okay-" you start, only to be cut off by an angry looking Chan. His face pops into view at your words, eyebrows furrowed.
"You are indeed not okay! You were kidnapped, unconscious for hours on end, and then shot! How are you possibly trying to convince us that you're ok?" Minho stands up at his outburst, laying a hand on his shoulder.
"I'm alive, and that's okay enough for me."
With your response bludgeoned into their minds, they both collapse on top of you in another hug.
You bask in their warmth a bit longer, only being interrupted with the door creaking open. Felix and Hyunjin stand there, teary and red-eyed.
"Your time's up," Hyunjin sniffles, moving out of the way of the door so the two can exit.
"We'll be back," Chan leans down to kiss your forehead while Minho grabs your hand, giving it an assuring squeeze.
They leave, and Felix and Hyunjin scurry in after them. They crowd around your bedframe, hesitant to even lay a hand on you.
"Hey," you whisper, reaching over to grab both of their hands, "I'm okay."
Hyunjin breaks down in sobs, and it only takes Felix a minute before he's right there with him. You let go of their hands and open your arms to welcome them in for a hug. Both of them hesitate again, but eventually bend down to give you the gentlest hug you've ever received.
"Does it hurt?" Felix mumbles, his arms tightly wrapped around your shoulders.
"They've got me on some serious meds, so no. It probably will when I come off of them, though. I haven't tried to walk-"
"And you wont either. Not for a long while," your mom cuts in from the couch.
"Thanks for your input, Mom."
"No problem," her gaze shifts to the boys, "She's been moody since she came out of surgery. They say it's because of the meds." They both let out a huffy laugh at that, and while you're absolutely dying to argue, you're just thankful to see Hyunjin and Felix smile.
There's another knock at the door, and all your heads snap to Changbin and Jisung. "Our turn," Jisung says, gesturing for Felix and Hyunjin to get out.
"We'll see you soon," Felix says before making his way to the door.
"Love you," Hyunjin says, hugging you for a second longer.
"Love you, too," you tell him, and you watch as he gets up and walks toward the door.
Once they're gone, Jisung and Changbin come into the room.
"Chan is never letting you out of his sight again; you know that, right?" Changbin asks, pulling up a chair beside you.
"Uh, not just Chan, all of us," Jisung argues. "You know how when girls go out they all have to, like, go to the bathroom together? That's about to be us bestie."
"Um, ew," you grimace just thinking about all your privacy being stripped from you.
"We'll wait outside, of course," Changbin says, trying to make you feel better.
"Oh, how thoughtful," you sass back, giving them a sarcastic smile.
"But for real though, are you ok?" The atmosphere turns serious at Jisung's inquisition. "We were all worried sick about you."
"I guess I could be better, but I'm gonna be just fine. Doc said some physical therapy and I'll be good as new."
"Did you know they didn't even realize you were an idol at first?" Changbin says, piquing your interest. "They said they thought they just picked up some random person at the cafe. Apparently that's why they kept you knocked out for so long; it made things more complicated."
"I did not know that, actually. The police only gave me a quick run down, said they'd be back later for some more questioning and to give us some more information."
Another knock is heard at the door, and you look to see Seungmin and I.N standing there, the last of your boys. "Our turn now, move along," Seungmin says, tapping his foot impatiently.
"That's our cue, we'll see you later." They both lean down to give you a kiss on the cheek before walking out of the room.
Seungmin and I.N come in, seeming even more urgent than Chan and Minho did earlier.
They both come crashing down on top of you, all concern for the wires attached to you out the window.
Wanting to tease them, you say, "What if I was, like, seriously hurt? And now you two just came running in here like a pack of wild animals?"
"Give me a break, everybody said you were fine and that you were accepting hugs," Seungmin throws back, giving you a firm poke in the side.
You bark out a laugh at that, a smile gracing your features. "They also said that you hadn't smiled yet. So there," Seungmin nuzzles his head back into your shoulder, and you feel him breath a sigh against your neck.
"We missed you," I.N says from the other side where he's latched onto your arm.
"I missed you guys more."
"Not possible, I'd never seen any of the guys so worked up before. Chan didn't sleep the whole time you were gone, and as soon as we convinced him to, they found you," Seungmin says.
"Well, I'm here now," you comfort them, rubbing a hand on each of their backs.
"And we're never letting you go again."
~ ~ ~
Part 1
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dragon-kazansky · 1 day
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Bridgerton shade of blue
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Benedict Bridgerton x Female Reader
Benedict bumps into you, quite literally, at a ball while trying to escape his mother's attempts to find him a partner. You decide to humour him with a dance, not realising just how entwined you would become with him. It seems the universe will find every excuse to push you and Benedict together, no matter how much you fight it.
{Masterlist}
{Previous Chapter} - {Next Chapter}
Season one
Chapter Nine - Late night scandals
♡♡♡
"What do you think Bridgerton?"
Benedict turns around to find the artist he had accidentally offended at the gallery the other night.
"This one more to your liking?"
"Mr. Granville--" Benedict raises from his chair to approach the man.
"Perhaps they should take it over to Somerset House so it can be skyed right next to mine."
"I believe I owe you an apology, sir." Benedict says, feeling rather embarrassed.
"Unnecessary. I actually quite enjoy the eloquent stings of your critique. So?" He gestures back to the painting on the wall.
"A touch morose for my tastes," Benedict says.
Henry points to the next one.
"A tragedy. The hound deserved better," Benedict comments.
Granville laughs. "Where is yours?"
"My..."
"Your work," Granville clarifies. "Are you tell me you're not an artist yourself?"
"Well, I-- I suppose sometimes I like to... Well, I mean, I almost--"
"I believe 'yes' and 'thank you' are the words you seek. But either way, you should come by my studio." Mr Granville holds out a small card to Benedict, who accepts it. "The pieces I do for myself are there, and I think you will find my real work far less, um... Oh, how did you put it? 'Cold and lacking inner life?'"
Benedict scrunched up his face as he nodded, still burning with embarrassment. "I shall never live that down, shall I?"
Mr Granville leaves.
Benedict returns to his table where he had been absentmindedly doodling. Eyes. He was sketching out a pair of eyes. Pretty ones. From memory.
He sighs and closes the sketchbook.
♡♡♡
As you sit in the drawing room of the Bridgerton house, as invited by Violet, you discover that she had no idea about the boxing match, or that Daphne had been there.
You keep your eyes focused on the latest Whistledown paper, though you had stopped reading it.
Daphne was playing the piano while her mother interrogated her.
"A boxing match is no place for any young lady." Violet sighs.
"Is it a place for a prince? Was he at today's match, sister?" Hyacinth asks.
"He certainly was."
"It is a loathsome and barbarous form of entertainment," Violet was very displeased.
That was when Daphne took the opportunity to mention you had gone as well, which had Violet looking at you.
"You too?"
You glare softly at Daphne, who gives you a smug little look. Crafty one, she is.
"Anthony invited me," you admit.
Violet looked terribly ill all of a sudden. You were sure she would being this up with her eldest son at some point.
"What about the duke?" Hyacinth asks.
"What about the duke?" Both Violet and Daphne ask at the same time. You eye Daphne curiously from your seat.
"Was he also present?" Hyacinth asked, less enthusiastic now.
"I do not know," Daphne says. "If the duke was there, I did not see him."
Hyacinth leaves the piano to go see what Eloise is up to. She had been scribbling away in her book since you arrived.
You put the Whistledown column down and rose from your seat to seek entertainment near the window. Watching the street was surely more entertainment than listening in on that conversation.
Anthony enters the room and greets both his mother and his sister. You turn and he greets you too.
"Did you truly take your sister to a boxing match?" Violet hounds him.
"Your admonishment will have to wait. I have news," he cuts her lecture short. "Prince Friedrich has asked for my permission to propose." He looks at Daphne.
She stops playing. "So soon?"
"Well, what did you tell him?" Violet asks.
"That I know better than to answer for my sister. I have no objections to the man. People speak well of him. Whatever you decide, Daph, you shall have my support."
You look at Daphne quietly.
"I... uh... I..." She doesn't know what to say.
"You need not decide now," Violet tells her. "You certainly have no known him long."
"Let me know when you have an answer, and I shall convey it." Anthony says to his sister.
"Indeed." Daphne looks at him.
Anthony leaves as quickly as he came in. It was clear Daphne needed time to think.
♡♡♡
When Daphne had pleaded with you to attend the next ball with her, you couldn't say no. There was a sadness to her gaze, and you wondered from where it had risen.
Something had happened between her and the duke, and she had been off kilter ever since.
The ball, like all had been so far, was wonderful. The theme was a little more out there this time, but everyone was behaving quite perfectly.
You were standing with Daphne as she scanned the crowd. Exactly who she was looking for, you weren't quite certain. You would suggest the prince on the account that the duke was apparently leaving London tonight.
The prince could be seen across the room. He was in conversation with someone. You glance toward Daphne, but your gaze shifts as Cressida Cowper comes over. You give Daphne a gentle nudge.
"Daphne." Cressida chuckles. "You look beautiful, as always."
"Thank you, Cressida," Daphne says politely.
"You could have chosen anyone," Cressida says. "You have gentlemen lined up to pay you tribute. Yet you did not hesitate to steal my chance for happiness away, did you? I knew the marriage market would make rivals of us, but I never thought youcapable of being my enemy."
"The man made his choice, Cressida. What did you expect me to do?" Daphne asks.
Daphne walks off in the direction of the prince. You look at Cressida and then walk off in the other direction.
There is nothing you could ever say to her.
You begin to walk alongside the dance floor, watching the couples dance. A hand comes into view, and you turn to see a friendly looking young man smiling at you.
"May I have this dance?"
You take a moment to gather yourself. You had hoped one of the Bridgerton boys would be here to dance with you, but you supposed you couldn't rely on them every time.
"You may."
You go with him to dance.
It seemed Benedict wasn't here.
♡♡♡
Benedict was, in fact, making his way to the studio of Mr. Granville. He was intrigued by the artist.
He finds the address and knocks on the door. Henry Granville answers.
"Mr. Bridgerton."
Benedict stands there a little awkwardly.
"Come in, come in."
Granville lets him in. Benedict enters and follows him. He is led further inside and finds himself in a large room. A circle of easels presented around two nude models.
"I do not know what I was expecting, but it surely was not this." Benedict says.
"Oh, simply a gathering of like-minded souls." Henry tells him. "Here, let me show you what I've been working on."
Benedict is led further inside the studio. He passes a couple of painters discussing war so causally.
"What do you think?" Henry asks.
Benedict walks over and takes a look at the canvas.
"Hmm. It's a far cry from Somerset House, I must say."
"I shall take that a compliment."
They both chuckle.
"And I must say, I'm truly jealous. Is this your life?" Benedict asks.
"There are advantages to being the second-born." Henry tells him. "Heirs have the responsibility. Second sons have the fun."
They both chuckle again.
"So... why not go have some fun?" Henry gestures to the models. He's giving Benedict the chance to epress himself through art.
Benedict picks an easel and sits down.
♡♡♡
As you dance once again tonight, you spot Anthony standing off to the side. He's staring at the opera singer.
You hard heard whispers about him being infatuated with an opera singer, but had no idea if there lay any truth to them.
You continue dancing with your partner.
Benedict was still a no-show tonight, which you found to be rather disappointing. You had been looking forward to another evening of his little quips and teasing.
When the dance ends, you curtsy to your partner and head in the direction of Anthony and Violet. Lady Bridgerton had tries to introduce her son to a rather pretty young lady, but he showed no interest.
"Shall we dance, Lord Bridgerton?" You ask, looking at Anthony.
He turns and looks at you, for half a second, thinking you were another lady his mother was intent on pushing on him.
"Yes, let's." He offers his arm, and you take it. Violet watches you both go. Even if he chose you, she would be pleased, but she knows her son will not take you as his wife. You're his friend who has come to rescue him from her for a while.
Violet downs a third glass of champagne.
"She is persistent," you say.
"Hm?"
"Your mother."
Anthony chuckles softly. "Yes. Quite."
"The opera singer..."
He looks at you.
"Nevermind. Its not my business."
Anthony's expression softens. "I was - am - found of her."
"Yes. I assumed as much."
Anthony sighs. "It's complicated.
You nod and say no more on the matter. Anthony spins you around elegantly.
"Is Benedict not here tonight?" You ask, twirling with him.
"Benedict? No." He gazes at you. "Why do you ask?"
"I just noticed his absence."
"Missing your dance partner?" He teases.
You chuckle. "Am I that obvious?"
He winks at you, and you shake your head with a smile. "I'm fond of you boys. I can't help it when I notice one of you is missing."
Anthony grins. "How lucky we are to have gained such a special friend such as you."
As Anthony gives you another turn around the floor, you spot Colin speaking with Penelope. You smile softly at the sight and then turn your attention back to the eldest brother.
At least you'll have one Bridgerton on your dance card tonight.
As the next dance begins, Anthony keeps your company longer. You're aware this may catch attention from others, especially Lady Whistledown should she be here, but none the less, you dance with him twice.
You soon see that Colin has left Penelope on the sidelines to dance with Miss Thompson, and you also find the prince talking to Daphne amidst their dance.
The dance ends, and you manage to catch sight of Daphne fleeing the ballroom.
Anthony bows, and you curtsy.
"Until next time." He nods his head at you. You smile and nod, taking your leave. You worry about Daphne and intend to go check on her, but you're stopped by another gentleman.
You sigh and realise you'll have to dance with him before you can flee again.
The dance feels like it drags on, and on, and on. You smile, you listen to your partner talk, but your mind is focused on Daphne. She did not look well when she fled.
When the dance ends, you spot Anthony leaving the ballroom. You waste no more time and follow him.
He heads outside. You follow.
"Anthony?"
He turns and looks at you. "Go back inside."
"What's the matter? What's happening?"
"Did you see him?" Anthony asks urgently.
"Who?"
"The duke."
"He is here?"
"He was, and now I can't find Daphne." You realise he's concerned about his sister.
You hear something further in the garden, and Anthony hurries off. You follow him, close on his heels.
What you find is not what you ever expected to see.
Simon and Daphne were not just kissing. His hands were all over her. Her dress had been pulled down. You cover your mouth, though you can not hide the gasp that escapes you.
Anthony runs at Simon.
"Bastard!"
Simon receives a strong punch to the face. He falls to the ground, and Anthony takes another swing. He punches him a third time and then stands beside his sister. You hurry to her other side and checks her over.
"Daphne..."
She is speechless. She has no words for you. They have been caught in a compromising position.
"You will marry her," Anthony declares.
"What?" Daphne looks at her brother.
"Immediately. We can only hope no one saw you take such liberties, and my sister is saved further mortification. You will marry her!"
Anthony is angry.
"Brother!"
"I cannot marry her," Simon says.
"You have defiled her innocence, and now you refuse her hand? I knew you were a rake, Hastings, I never thought you a villain."
"I cannot marry her," Simon states more firmly.
Daphne looks hurt.
"Then you leave me no choice. I must demand satisfaction."
"A duel? Anthony, you cannot--" Daphne begins.
"He dishonours you, sister." Anthony looks at her. "He dishonours you and me and the very Bridgerton name. I have misjudged you, indeed. You have duped us both, but I shall not see my sister pay for my own misdeeds. We will settle this as gentlemen."
"I understand," Simon agrees. "I shall see you at dawn."
"I do not understand," Daphne says softly. "You would rather die than marry me?"
You look at Simon quietly.
"I am truly sorry."
"We need to go, Daph. Before anyone should see us." Anthony says softly.
You reach out for her arm gently and pull her away, Anthony follows you both.
Daphne takes her brother's arm after he begs of you not to say a word about anything. You swear by it, looking him in the eye. Anthony thanks you.
You drift off from them as you enter the ballroom once again.
Anthony approaches Colin and tells him he is taking her home. He asks Colin to take care of their mother. You decide to step in and help. Anthony looks grateful.
Anthony and Daphne leave.
Colin looks at you, but you just smile softly at him and ask him to help you with Violet. He doesn't say anything about Daphne or Anthony.
Neither do you.
♡♡♡
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scoonsalicious · 17 hours
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Unwanted: Chapter 27, Unhinged - Pt. 2
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader
Summary: When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn’t be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust.
Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, gratuitous Hamlet 2 reference, mention of masturbation, descriptions of violence, death, full on crazy.
Word Count: 1.4k
Previously On...: Nat sent you and Bucky some Hydra security footage she was able to get from her old KGB contacts. You're in for a wild ride.
A/N: THE MADNESS!
NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates
Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917!
Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!
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There was no real rhyme or reason to the footage, no overarching narrative that tied the clips together. They were just short, interspersed segments, with no sound, from different camera angles within the Hydra base. The base was probably operating underground; the harsh fluorescent lights acting as the only source of illumination, which made it impossible to determine time of day. 
Most of the clips were mundane– shots of a younger version of Jade Carthage training in weapons and combat, eating with the base’s other operatives, sitting in some sort of school room and seemingly being made to recite information. One thing was clear– the girl was not the tortured prisoner she’d led Nick Fury to believe. 
You and Bucky watched clips as Jade got older, her training more intense. The scientists at the base put her through extensive endurance testing but, upon completing them, she always looked happy, as though glad to have pleased her keepers with her results. Periodically, an older man in a suit would be seen in the footage. He appeared to be a higher up in Hydra’s hierarchy– the other occupants of the base deferred to him as though he was someone of importance.
“I know that guy,” Bucky said the first time the footage showed a clear image of the man’s face. “Not his name or anything like that, but I remember seeing him with Alexander Pierce.”
You reached up to hold the hand that Bucky still kept on your shoulder, squeezing it in support. “You okay to go on with this?” you asked, knowing that Pierce, as the man who had commanded him to kill Tony’s parents, among others, was a shadow that still loomed large over Bucky’s psyche.
He swallowed. “Yeah. I’m good.” 
The two of you kept watching as Suit Man came to observe Carthage, bringing her gifts and acting almost… parental toward the girl. It was disconcerting to watch him gently stroke her hair or offer her a hug, knowing the kind of man he must be, if he was working so high up within Hydra.
“What’s that?” you asked, rewinding the clip and enlarging it over a folder that Suit Man had handed to Carthage. “Holy shit,” you said, once you’d made out the face on the photo attached to the front of the file. “Buck, that’s you.”
Bucky leaned forward, squinting at your screen. “How can you tell, doll?” he asked. “It just looks like a bunch of pixels.”
You rolled your eyes at him. “I’ve stared at your face long and hard enough to recognize it anywhere, Barnes,” you told him. “Whatever’s in that file, it’s about you.” 
Bucky gave you a look you couldn’t quite unpack. “Keep playing it,” he said after a moment. 
You zoomed out and resumed the footage. Over time, Suit Man would bring Carthage more files. She would continue her training, follow her same routine. You were nearly nodding off with the monotony of it when something changed. A new camera angle appeared in the footage, this one seeming to be of Carthage’s quarters within the base, and you were surprised by just how… normal they were. She had a four poster bed, a vanity, bookshelves– it was a typical room for a young woman. The only thing that looked remotely out of place were the photos on the walls. Once again, you paused the video so you could enlarge the image.
The walls were covered in seemingly hundreds of photos of Bucky.
“Holy shit,” you whispered.
“Are those… are those all me?” Bucky asked as you dragged the image around your screen, wanting to see every available corner of her space.
“Yes,” you said. “They… these all look like surveillance shots. Why do you look like Jesus in this picture?” you asked him, squinting as you pointed to one where he was wearing robes and standing by a river, his long hair tied half-up in the back of his head.
“Shit, that’s from when I was in Wakanda,” Bucky exhaled. “How the fuck would Hydra get shots of me there?”
You leaned back. “Well. Rock me, rock me, rock me, sexy Jesus,” you said under your breath. 
“We just discovered that Hydra somehow found a way to spy on me in the most technologically secretive nation on the planet, and that’s your takeaway?” Bucky asked.
“I’m neither blind, nor a nun, Barnes,” you replied before zooming out and starting the footage once again. “Though, with a Savior that looked like that, I’d gladly devote the rest of my life to serving the Faith.”
“Pretty sure that’s blasphemy,” he said, though you could hear the shy smile in his voice, and you just knew he was blushing at the compliment. “I don’t understand, though. If I’m her target, why’s she hanging my pictures on her wall?”
You squinted your eyes as the Carthage in the footage drew a heart around one of Bucky’s headshots with what appeared to be lipstick. “I think…” you began, an idea coming to you, “I think they’re manufacturing infatuation.” You bit your lip in consideration. “If there’s one thing on this planet with more obsessive, singular focus on a target than a Hydra-trained assassin, it’s a teenage girl with a crush. They’re making sure she’s got the concentration of both.” You watched with sick fascination as Carthage took the photo she’d drawn the heart on, and bringing it over to her bed, appeared to be talking to it as she crawled under the covers.
“Oh, shit,” you said with realization. “We should skip over this part.”
“Why?” Bucky asked, clueless to what you knew was coming. “What’s going on?”
“If I am not mistaken,” you said, as Carthage held the photo to her chest before slipping a hand under her blanket, “she’s about to start masturbating to that photo of you.”
“Jesus fuck!” Bucky exclaimed. “Fast forward, Pocket! Fast forward!”
You skipped the video to the next time stamp, trying and failing to control your laughter. It wasn’t that you were laughing at Carthage– this was a gross violation of a private moment, and no one, not even her, deserved that; no, you were laughing at how horrifically uncomfortable it seemed to make Bucky.
“Come on, Barnes,” you said, getting yourself together, “you’ve already fucked the girl twice. Now you’re suddenly shy about watching her cum?”
You felt Bucky stiffen behind you, and you felt bad… momentarily, but he didn’t acknowledge your comment, so you kept watching the footage, until there were only a few minutes left. Suit Man returned and after a few moments, said something to Carthage that had her jumping for what appeared to be joy and throwing her arms around the man. 
“Something’s about to happen,” you muttered, eyes glued to the screen. And then… shit hit the fan.
You and Bucky watched in horror as Suit Man handed Carthage a pair of guns, and the two moved systematically through the base, with Carthage slaughtering every operative in their path. 
“What the hell?” Bucky whispered. 
“No other survivors,” you said, recalling the words from her bio sheet all those months ago. “They’re selling her story. Making it look like she escaped. Jesus Christ. She lived with these people for years. She’s fucking insane.” 
Carthage was pumping so many bullets into the agents at the base that she quickly ran out. From there, it was like she just snapped– beating the others to death with anything she could get her hands on. And if there was nothing readily available, she used her bare hands. “Fuck,” you muttered, feeling the urge to vomit. You turned your head, burying it into Bucky’s stomach as he stood behind you. “I can’t watch anymore. Tell me when it’s done,” you begged.
Bucky’s hand came up and rubbed comforting circles on your back. “Yeah, sweets,” he said, voice hollow, “I’ll let you know.”
After what seemed like absolutely far too long, you heard Bucky swallow, and he tapped you on your shoulder, indicating it was safe for you to look again. Turning back to the screen, you were disgusted to see Carthage absolutely covered in blood. The only thing you could think of was Carrie at the prom, but Carthage looked delighted with herself, the whites of her eyes and her blazing smile sitting in stark contrast to the dark lifeblood that coated her face. Together, she and Suit Man walked casually out of the last camera frame, as though she hadn’t just committed mass murder.
<- Previous Part / Next Part ->
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stilljuststardust · 3 days
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Hey my sister wants to shift, she’s 13, what is the most basic “here’s what you need to know and never listen to shifttok” song you’ve got for her?
∘₊✧Explanation✧₊∘
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Thanks for the ask! I'm sorry this took me so long I've been having some health issues.
Disclaimer, please read:
There are SO many different perspectives on how it works. Mine is not the only one and though all perspectives are valid, I'm going to assume that you chose to ask me because you are familiar with my blog and how I personally view shifting.
I'm going to try to leave LOA out of it but that is how I personally view shifting.
What is shifting?
Shifting is when you become aware of the life you're living in another reality. The reality you shift into is just as real as the one you are currently in. It will feel real because it is.
How to shift
Strictly speaking, you don't have to do anything to shift. How people shift is so personal and customized and nothing is necessary to do it but I'll try my best to give "instructions" anyway.
You decide you're in your DR, you decide that it is true and it has worked, ignore anything outside of yourself that tells you otherwise, and know that it is true because you freaking said it was.
You decide you've shifted and ignore anything but that decision. That is IT. Don't worry about this reality, it doesn't matter. Don't worry about any aspects of this reality you can still hear see or feel, they won't stop you from shifting don't let them distract you.
ALL you have to do is become aware of your DR. I know that it can be hard to conceptualize that for a beginner so most people use methods.
Methods
To start off: It is not necessary to have a method. Many people just intend to shift and then they do. That's it. You don't have to do anything, however I recognize that for someone who isn't familiar with shifting "just intend to" is probably an unhelpful answer.
Most methods can be divided into two categories, awake and asleep methods.
Awake methods revolve around becoming aware that you are already in your DR.
Asleep methods revolve around becoming aware that you will wake up in your DR.
Common features in both kinds of methods:
Meditation
Visualization
Affirmations
Affirmations are pretty straightforward, you repeat a sentence that aligns with your goal over and over. "I have shifted. I am in my DR."
What I personally do
I robotically affirm all day "I am going to shift tonight" robotic affirmations are just repeated affirmations without feeling. So all day I just say it to myself again and again.
I then take some time to sit down and imagine my desired reality, my favorite street, pretty things I would see throughout the day, stuff that grounds me in the feeling of it.
Then I just lay down and tell myself I'm there no matter what. No matter what I feel hear or see I am there.
Doesn't matter I'm there.
Frequently asked questions
I am choosing to put these first because I feel like they really clarify what shifting is and how it works.
Will I have memories of my destination reality once I have shifted?
Yes, you have always existed in that reality and you have a life's worth of memories there. When you become aware of a reality and of the version of yourself that exists within it you also become aware of your memories there.
How does scripting work/ what is it?
It is a description of the reality you'd like to shift into, usually written. Think of it as an the address of the reality you'd like to shift to. You specify the details of the life you would like to become aware of. Having one is not necessary.
Can I script [insert anything here] ?
Yes. You can script anything, and I mean anything. If you can imagine it, it is possible. The realities we shift to do not have to follow the rules of this one and what is impossible here doesn't have to be impossible there. You want to script the sky is purple? Then it is. You want to have wings? Congratulations you can. I cannot stress this enough, ANYTHING you want can be scripted.
Relevant posts
Your desired reality already exists
An old post of my own shifting routines nothing listed is necessary, the list exists to give ideas not instructions
How to visualize
A good post on shiftok misinformation by my awesome mutual
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a66-1 · 1 day
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HI OMG i just read all your stuff and theyre so GOOD AGHH!;!3)2):&;&??? and for any requests how about another docile!simon because hes SOO CUTE IM IN LOOVEE or a childhood!best friend 😮‍💨😮‍💨
crying and throwing up bc AHH
tysm omg..
it's giving I should do both of these
Childhood bestfriend!Simon (who's a docile soul) x Reader.
a/n: major fluff ❤️
what was a661 listening to? (Homesick by Noah Kahan, Sugar Sweet by Benson Boone, Young Blood by Noah Kahan, Like Real People Do by Hoizer)
Unedited and not proofread
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Simon and you go way back, and I mean way back. You knew this boy since he learned how to tie his shoe. (Unsurprisingly you had to teach him because what the heck are you doing to the laces?)
You lived slightly south of Manchester, and only really saw Simon when your parents met up every month or so, but you and Simon were essentially locked at the hip when you two were around each other. Pinkies bound together as you walked around the pond, watching the swans swim in the water. His smile was always so.. Soft. Never a big, excited smile. One where you knew he was comfortable.
His older brother always scoffed at the two of you, opting to stick by his parents and yours as they sat on a bench, as they talked amongst themself. Simon Unhooked his pinkie from yours as he bent by a few rocks, looking through them.
"Hey, come 'ere." He gestured you over. You crouched next to him. He picked a few weed flowers, and plopped on the ground to tie the bottoms together. When he was done, he handed them to you.
"There! For you. They're really pretty." He smiled softly, as you took them. You laughed quietly, and hugged him.
"Thank you, Si." You said quietly, before pecking his cheek. You heard your mom yell at you to get your hands off eachother, as you two are only 8 and 10.
You two separate, and walk back over to your parents. Simon had a pink hue to his cheeks, but nothing he couldn't not excuse as sunburn.
Once you got in your rickety car back to your house, it's not like you knew you'd never see him again. You were packed and already on the plane 3 weeks later.
The absolute meltdown you had in the airport had your mom threatening to ductape your mouth shut, and you're pretty sure you cried all the way to America.
-
You lift your head, noticing your spot in line has moved up, again. You shift forward, a basket of food in your arms. You got your own places little over a year ago. Freedom feels.. Great, actually, nobody is on your ass and you can freely drive anywhere without a 'where tf are you??' text.
You get to the register, and give a polite nod and 'I'm good, and you?' Your accent still catches a few people off guard. Fucking hell, this state is absolute shit sometimes. Just because some people aren't the same as you, you don't gotta be weird about it-
It's not even like it's heavy, it's just slightly there. Growing up with the most British parents in a very not British town has got your accent all odd, but if anyone from Manchester heard you, they might be able to decipher you.
You take your bags and walk to your car, loading it. Just one more thing in the list... Ah, the pet shop. The place isn't far, so you lock your car and start your walk on the way there.
A few Military officers stand a block away, across the street. They don't look quite American, in all actuality, isn't that the flag from-
You abruptly run into someone. Fuck. God, why don't you keep your eyes open every once in a while? You take a step back, rubbing your nose. Crap, they had a hard fucking chest, because your nose feels half broken.
"My bad, I'm so sorry-" You glance up to notice an military officer. You stand straighter, noticing the Union Jack flag. The guy has gear on, and a.. Ghost mask? A bavaclava, I'm pretty sure, and some eye black.
"It's.." He squints, pausing, before continuing, "Fine. It's fine."
That's an accent if you've heard one. God, it's familiar as crap, you know you've heard it before. Which parents had that accent again? Sounds like.. Jack's parents were more west...
"You uh.. You from here?" He gruffly asks, "Can tell you got an accent."
You shake your head, "I was born in Manchester, moved when I was 8, give or take."
His eyes widen this time, before cursing. He turns to the group of men further down, and throws a hand signal. They nod, and continued a conversation they were having.
"Oh? I had a friand who uh.. Who.." He hesitated, but he slipped off his mask.
"Who did that too."
You stared doe eyed at him. "Simon?"
That blonde hair is impossible to forget. You choke on a laugh, before grabbing his face. His nose is definitely different, but it looks like shits been broken.
"Holy shit, it's you." He smiled. Fucking hell, his smile.
"Jesus! What're you doing here, I mean- I-I never thought we'd-" You cut yourself off with a laugh, before hugging him tightly, your hands curling into his hair. He swiftly hugged back, rocking you softly. Goddammit, he looks good.
Good, good.
"Oh lovie, you can't understand how happy I am, I remember how you left and.." He stares at you quietly, and frowned. "Never really made another friend like you again."
That made you frown, "Si, you should've made friends! I was just the example!" You throw in a smile, to show him your joking.
You both find yourself laughing together, your hands back on his cheek, his hands on your hips. And.. Some reason naturally, you drifted closer and.. Kissed. Neither of you hesitated, it was swift and you kept his head against yours, and you made sure the kiss was good.
He was good.
You both pulled away, a soft look shared among you too.
"Are we gonna brush past that, or.." He laughed, and hugged you again, swinging you around once. You yelped, and hit his shoulder.
"Put me down!!" You squealed, laughing.
Price glanced over to the two of you, Soap turning as well.
"Tha' there mus' be tha' Bonnie he mentions," Soap nods slightly, smiling for his friend.
"Sure is. I knew he'd take this mission cuz' o' her." Price chuckled softly.
You carded through his hair softly, looking in his eyes.
"I missed you, Si."
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AHH THE IINSPO FOR THIS HAD ME SENT WRITING THIS.
Never seen something like this so I feel accomplished not having a clue how to keep going.
TYSM FOR THE SUPPORT!!
Request to get more fun stories like this!
Bye babes!
-a661
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fadingdaggerr · 13 hours
Note
Hii!! I hope you've had a great day!!
So, I had this idea and I can't stop thinking about it, it's like rotating in my brain like a Rotisserie Chicken. IDK if you're still taking requests but I just had to send this.
Anyway, Melissa and reader are in someone else's house (R parents or idk some kind of sleepover with the teachers) and for some reason they can't sleep together in the same bed/room, like they're used to, which is concerning R because Melissa doesn't really sleep well alone.
But Mel tries to ease R saying she'll be just fine for one night, and very reluctantly R agrees.
Well, it turns out she can't. R and obviously a few others in the house wake up to Melissa's screaming in the middle of the night and R runs to her, shes is sobbing, shaking and clutching R for dearlife, just absolutely terrified and not even letting R move. R calm her down and take care of her, like with a lot of fluff and comfort.
I'm just obsessed with R taking care of Mel and being really sweet.
Yeah that's it. I love your stories, they are really really good. And I could only think of you when this thing came out of my brain.
+ I absolutely loved what you did in "Know I'm Alive", I was kicking my feet and internally screaming. (I sent that anon 👉👈) So thanks, I enjoyed it a lot, like a lot a lot, like, if I could I would eat that it.
You're really talented!! <3
by the sun, by the moon
pairing: melissa schemmenti x gn!reader
summary: request above! | 4.8k
includes: no pronoun use for r, fluff, hurt/comfort, family play fights/sibling banter, r’s family adores mel, probably ooc!mel oops
warnings: unhealthy relationship dynamic (short), attempted violence (short), mentions/insinuations of sex, one outdated traditional value, sleep difficulties/nightmares, anxiety/panic attack
note: please feel free to skip the section that discusses the unhealthy relationship dynamic/violence. it begins after the first section divide with the line “for her entire childhood…” those topics are only explicitly stated there and only referenced one other time. please do not feel as tho you need to read triggering material to understand the story, i tried to make it understandable without having to read potentially distressing content :)
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Melissa’s head tips back when she hears you coming back downstairs, having been waiting for you since your mom called during The Real Housewives time. The way you’re watching your feet with furrowed brows makes her fully turn until she’s kneeling on the couch, leaning over the back to get closer to you.
“Something wrong?” Melissa asks, reaching to grab your hand to pull you closer.
You shake your head, “no, no.” Warm hands rise to cradle the redhead’s face, “how would you feel about spending the night at my parents place Saturday? They’re hosting Jonah’s birthday, wanted our help to set up the night before.”
Her eyes widen, “just Saturday night?”
“Just Saturday,” you reaffirm, tucking a loose hair behind her ear. She cautiously nods, barely moving. “We don’t have to if you’re not comfortable with it, I’m not going to make you.”
“I know, I know,” she says through her breath, “we’ll stay the night.” The kiss you press to her forehead feels heavier than just a silent thank you.
—☽—
For her entire childhood and through her marriage, Melissa slept like a rock. She slept through Kristen Marie’s and Joe’s snoring, her college girlfriend’s sleep talking, her parents having a screaming match so loud the cops got called. Before starting teaching, she even had to train herself to wake up at the sound of her alarm, knowing that being late to the school was ten times worse than being late to JC Penney.
Two years after she finally left Joe, Melissa met Eric.
Tall, charming, nice-smelling Eric with his salt-and-pepper beard always tidy, a covered up Marine tattoo on his forearm. He’d bought her drink after his friend accidentally knocked hers off the counter of the bar, and two hookups later, she was agreeing to a real date. Three months later, she was his girlfriend and allowed him into her apartment. He got to know where the spare key was hidden after a year.
Eric was everything Joe was not. During arguments, Joe would shut down and leave, only returning when he smells like cheap liquor and some other woman’s perfume. Eric always stayed, told her his point of view, listened to hers, calmly told her when she was overreacting. He was smooth, never raised a hand towards her or threw things at the walls. Melissa always knew when she was in the wrong, but he never made her feel bad about it.
Eric was particular. He liked his shirts folded a certain way, beer only from a glass, and silence when he worked. If she was excited about anything, he only ever allowed her to speak about it until he’d lost interest, almost always by the time she paused to take a breath. When he properly introduced her to his friends, his hand on her knee would tighten when she spoke. Quickly, she learned that the tighter the grip, the less she should speak. Four hours at some sports bar and Melissa had only been able to say a total of six sentences. Eric liked Melissa quiet. Melissa became quiet.
He started to prod about meeting her family, and she shut him down. Again and again. The fourth time, he banged his fist against the table, the end of his fork creating a small dent. Green eyes fixated on the dent as he began to calmly explain that he had introduced her to his family, it was her turn. Mumbling those were your buddies got her stuck on her own couch that night, clutching the blanket Nana made her before she started college.
Two months later, she began to slowly bring back Eric’s clothing to his apartment on the off-chance they went there for a night. Grading her student’s assignments began to take longer and she triple-checked the scores to waste more time, suddenly too tired to have sex or even talk before going to sleep. Otherwise, she listened to his rules, spoke when spoken to, cooked when asked.
The morning he narrowly avoided calling her a moron to her face when she made the eggs over-medium instead over-easy, she officially made her choice. That night, at the Italian restaurant he brought her to, she called it off.
“Why?” Eric asked, eyes stone, unwavering from hers.
She took a deep breath, “you treat me like a pet. Speak when spoken to, move when told, I’m sick of it.” Her grip on the table cloth tightened, “tomorrow, I will put your stuff outside. You’ll pick it up when I tell you to, and then you will leave.”
He sits back in his chair, tongue poking at his bottom lip, “and if I don’t want to break up?”
“Too bad,” she shrugs. Standing from the table, Melissa leaves him with the check and the sad excuse of Italian cuisine on the table.
At work the next day, it takes all morning, lunch, and prep to fully debrief Barbara on everything that had been going on. It made sense to the kindergarten teacher why she had yet to meet this Eric fella, but after hearing this, she knew Melissa wasn’t proud of getting herself in this situation. A promise of a wine weekend and greasy food makes Melissa truly smile. Barbara hadn’t realized how fake every little grin had been until now, she missed her best friend.
That afternoon, Melissa came home to the loose brick that hid her spare key ajar. The blood in her veins runs cold. Opening the unlocked door, glass scratches across the wooden floor, crunching under her heels. Every picture frame, the television, the radio, the coffee table, the stovetop, the tea set from her grandfather, all smashed to pieces. Holes were in nearly every wall, the stair railing broken. The entire first floor was destroyed, only upstairs was left pristine, as if nothing had happened at all. Bat in hand, she checks every closet, under her bed, in the bathtub, everywhere. He was gone.
Leaning against the wall, she slides down and sobs. Melissa is forced to make a choice she didn’t want to make. Opening her phone, she calls Joe.
Joe, despite everything he had done, was at Melissa’s house within the hour. In one hand he held a bag from the hardware store, containing new locks and keys, the other hand had his very own bat, nails pounded through the wood. Like he said when they signed the papers, just because he wasn’t in love with her, doesn’t mean he didn’t care.
Three weeks later, after things had settled and locks were changed, Melissa felt more secure. Still every night, she woke at every sound, wind and the smoke detector quickly became her mortal enemies. Bundled in her soft pajamas and thick comforter one night, she finally fell into a hard, deep sleep forced from pure exhaustion.
Paperclips, a screwdriver, and a small sheet of flexible metal are all someone needs to pick a lock and shift the deadbolt. Eric surely knew that, always the smart man, yet never the brightest. Slowly, he moved up the stairs, bourbon fueling his motions as well as his heavy steps.
A particularly loud thunk wakes Melissa, hand flying under her pillow to the bat Joe had made her promise to keep there. Another thump made her jump out of bed and to the side of her dresser with an iron grip around Edith Houghton. When her door opened, she stayed pressed into the corner, hoping she stayed hidden just long enough for him to leave so she could grab her phone.
Liquor breeds stupidity, worsens it when it is already present, and Eric had left to check the bathroom. Quickly, Melissa called the police, shakily texting Joe as she whispered to the operator. At that point, she didn’t care who got there first. She just wanted to be free of him.
She moved to a new apartment before the month even ended. Barbara insisted on cameras, which Gerald installed. Joe insisted on a nailed up bat, which he made himself. Not a night has gone by since then where she didn’t have it within arms reach of the bed.
It took six years for her to sleep again.
—☽—
The light tracing of nonsensical patterns on her abdomen is what wakes Melissa, eyes cracking open to the bright sun peeking through the curtains. She wishes now, more than ever, that she had agreed to the blackout curtains, groaning into her pillow. With the knowledge she’s now awake, several soft kisses press against her shoulder, traveling to her neck. With a sleepy grin on her face, Melissa turns to face you.
“Morning,'' you mumble against her lips, hand traveling up to her hair to separate the knots that you created. “Sleep good?”
The only response you get is a little huff that almost sounds like yeah, her face burying in your neck to hide from the light. You lay there with her, finishing your detangling mission as Melissa’s nails trace up and down your arm. A final, sound kiss lands on the crown of her head before you shuffle out from underneath her, reaching for your previous discarded university shirt and sweatpants. The redhead watches through droopy eyes, scanning over you before your pajamas cover everything she adores.
“Gotta get up, beautiful,” you say through a yawn as you walk out the room, “we need to be leaving for one.” A tiny groan escapes her lips as she rises from the bed, though a small smile crosses her lips when she sees your sweatshirt thrown over the chair in the corner, just waiting for her.
Not even halfway down the stairs, there’s a clatter from the kitchen and a quiet exclamation of fuck. “You’re not even awake and you want me up,” Melissa says as she walks to the coffee maker. She’s met with a small slap on her ass in return, not even caring to be embarrassed of the girlish giggle she lets out.
Whose fault it is that you’re late leaving, who could tell? Between the forgoing packing and wrapping your cousin’s present last night for a taste of Melissa and her lack of pants this morning, it’s hard to say. Nothing that going a gentle twenty over on the highway can’t mend.
Driving up the dirt road, the dense trees thinned and your parent’s yellow house came into view. Your father’s questionably functional truck sits in the front of the garage, your mom and brother’s cars parked close together on the lawn. Seeing the way your hands tighten on the steering wheel, Melissa slides her hand from your elbow to the free hand on your thigh, playing with your rings to calm you. Being at your parents house was always overwhelming, fun, but overwhelming.
Narrowly avoiding scraping the side, you pull in next to your brother’s car. Looking at each other, you and Melissa give each other a nod of we got this. She’d been over here before, she’d been to three family reunions and almost every birthday party, but never had you two stayed the night, always being some of first to leave to sleep in your own bed.
With a little grunt, you hop out of the car and jog to Melissa’s side to open her door. She gives you a half glare when you tap her hand away from helping carry the bags in, you never let her lift a finger, if you can help it.
“Well, look who decided to show up!”
Both you and Melissa jump at your mother’s yell from the porch, bangles clanking together as she widely waves to the both of you. Gravel crunches under her feet as she rushes over to the two of you, immediately pulling Melissa into a hug. Before you were banned from saying it, you used to joke that your parents preferred your girlfriend to their own child. The giant smile on Melissa’s face when she interacts with your family makes it worth it.
Tumbling upstairs, you bring your bags into your childhood bedroom with Melissa close behind. Even with every time she had been here, she loved being in your room. It was a time capsule of your life before college, all the posters of bands and movies still hanging on the walls, trinkets covering every space. She particularly loved the little collection of rocks on your bookshelf, clearly in order from favorite to least favorite.
The bed bobs as you both drop onto the mattress, groaning at the comfort after three hours in the car. You turn your face towards her, leaning to press a kiss to her shoulder, “I love you.”
Melissa leans in closer, “I love you, too.” She watches your eyes flick to her lips, beating you to the chase and pressing her lips to yours softly. It takes every ounce of effort to not moan at your tongue tracing her lip, her hand coming up to grip your shirt and keep you close. Stomping up the stairs makes you both jump apart, feeling like teenagers getting caught, not that the room was helping.
The door opens to show your dad, boots trekking in dirt that will inevitably get him in trouble with your mom. The hand not on the doorknob is over his eyes, “you two better be decent. Ma has lunch ready downstairs and clothing is probably mandatory.”
“Knock it off,” you mumble as you shuffle towards him so he can give your head a gentle noogie. Neither of you were big on hugs, only really being physically affectionate with your partners, but the love is always clear in every fistbump and hand on your shoulder.
You and Melissa trail behind your father as he goes to the kitchen, both fighting laughs after nearly getting caught by your dad. However, the second your mom peers over at the two of you, you both act like you had been silent the whole time, eyes flicking around in feigned innocence.
Lunch is a mismatch of all the foods your mom made for the birthday party the next day, making you all be her taste testers, even if she only really wants Melissa’s opinion as the other cook in the family. Pasta salad, potato salad, mac and cheese, shortcake, even some chicken with her new lemon pepper recipe. You and your brother fight over who gets first dibs on the pasta salad, ending with his wife taking the serving spoon from your hands and grabbing some for herself.
“Act your age,” Kennedy says to her husband, making you laugh, before she gives you a sharp glance, “that goes for you, too.” Melissa turns away to unsuccessfully hide her own laugh from you.
Lunch ends with your mom and your brother arguing over another serving of macaroni, “we need food for tomorrow! Fuck’s sake, Marcus.”
—☽—
Your father divides everyone into groups to set up the backyard. Your mother takes Melissa and Kennedy to help set up the tables and lights, forcing you and Marcus to help your father with the tent, bonfire pit, and yardgames.
Getting all the yardgames for the little cousins was the easy part, even if it took a while because the three of you had to play a game of cornhole before you could do anything else. None of you got a single one in after two turns, making you all set into defeat, the game was agreed between the three of you to be stupid now. With your father taking a break now, getting the tent together was a doomed venture with you and Marcus.
“If you don’t let me hold it up, it’s gonna keep falling.”
“Fuck off! No, it won’t,” Marcus says with confidence, trying to stand the tent all at once before securing it. Four had already fallen, and a job that should only take twenty minutes was taking nearly an hour.
“How is it gonna stay up if nothing’s holding it, huh? Thought you knew everything?” He flips you off and doesn’t answer, continuing putting the spike in the ground, though without the other end being held up, the weight pulls it down again. Giving up, you walk away and attempt to find your dad for something else to do. You stop in your tracks, just step from the patio.
Watching Melissa with your family always makes butterflies erupt in your chest. She used to be so nervous around them, uncharacteristically quiet and meek, but now she’s almost as carefree with them as she is with her own. The sunlight makes her hair shine, and it’s damn near impossible to look away. It seems you’re of similar mind, her head turning towards you, fighting a grin when she sees the dopey grin on your face.
You almost start to walk towards her, but a strong hand pulls you back. Your dad pushes the hatchet into your hands, “you’re on firewood duty.”
“Bu-”
“Nope, you’re not slinking off to your girl. Go chop the wood, Casanova,” he says as he walks back to help Marcus with the tent.
It’s hours before you even get a chance to see Melissa again, as if your parents were keeping you apart. Which they were, knowing that you’d ignore everything you had to do if it meant you got to just look at Melissa. By the time you got back inside, the button up you’d been wearing was abandoned on a lawn chair and you were out of breath. How much firewood does one bonfire even need?
Walking in the backdoor into the kitchen, Melissa is leaning against the counter, her eye on the mixer filled with what will be cheesecake going to your tanktop clad form as she chats with Kennedy. Creeping up beside her, you wrap an arm around her waist and press a lingering kiss to her cheek, mumbling a greeting into her skin before trudging upstairs to shower the sweat and dirt off.
—☽—
By the end of the night, everyone is half-awake and struggling to keep their eyes open as a TV movie drones on. Neither you or Melissa are paying attention, too wrapped up in one another in the arm chair. Legs dangling over the arm, Melissa is seated on your lap, head tucked into your shoulder as you mindlessly play with her hair. The hand on the back of your neck stops its soft ministrations, her breathing slowing as she fights falling asleep.
You speak quietly for only her to hear, “you ready for bed?” She just nods against you, and you tap her legs to prompt her to move. Her hands hold onto your arm to steady herself, wavering where she stands.
“Alright, we’re calling it. Night guys, we’ll see you in the morning,” you announce into the room as Melissa starts going towards the stairs, not trusting her ability to speak when she’s this tired. You get a quiet chorus of night before you walk to the stairs, but your mother’s voice stops your movements.
“Jellybean, could you do me a favor and take the trash out before you head upstairs?” she asks without taking her eyes off the TV.
You internally groan before nodding, turning to Melissa, “go up, baby. I’ll be right there.”
This catches your mother’s attention, immediately moving to face you, “you mean to say ‘goodnight,’ right?”
“What?”
Her eyebrows rise, “you’re saying goodnight, then going to your room. Right?” Melissa’s blood immediately runs cold, color draining from her face. If she was tired two minutes ago, she was wide awake now.
“No...” you say slowly, confused, “why would Mel not also be in there?” You peak over your shoulder to Melissa, giving her a look before your attention is back on your mother.
“So, you’re staying in the guest room? Or is Melissa?”
Your face screws up, “Neither of us? My room’s got a full, that’s fine for us.”
“No.”
“Hell you mean ‘no,’ Ma? Marcus and Kennedy are sharing a full, it’s not a huge deal,” you hear Melissa step down from the stairs, her shaky hand holding your elbow.
“Marcus and Kennedy are married, unlike you two. I know you live together, but my roof, my rules. You know that,” she says matter-of-factly. The other three people in the room pointedly avoid looking at you, not wanting to get on your mom’s bad side.
You argue back, “that’s fucking ridiculous, Ma. We are grown adults, in a relationship.” The arched brow on your mother’s face tells you that you shouldn’t be arguing, but she doesn’t know. She doesn’t know about the panic that is starting to eat away at Melissa’s veins at the sudden thought of sleeping without you, something she hasn’t done once in over three years now.
“No rings, two beds. Don’t think I won’t be checking.”
Not wanting to make more of a scene, Melissa tugs on your arm to gain your attention. Turning to her, you can see the silent plea in her eyes for you to give it up. Shoulders sagging, you let out a grumbled fine. Breaking away from her, you go to the kitchen and roughly pull the trash from the bin. It takes a great deal of effort to not slam the door as you stomp to the garage. When you come back in, you don’t bother saying anything to anyone, just wrapping an arm around Melissa to guide her upstairs.
When you get into your room, you shut the door and lean against it with a huff. The two of you silently change into your pajamas, moving slowly from exhaustion and an attempt to prolong your time together. Melissa turns away to fold her clothes on the bed, and you move to wrap your arms around her waist, propping your chin on her shoulder.
“I’m sorry,” you say, “I’ll stay in here tonight. Not like she can’t ground me anymore.”
Melissa turns in your arms, loosely wrapping her own around your shoulders, “it’s alright, I’ll be fine. I don’t want her mad at you for my sake.”
“Baby-”
“Don’t do that,” she says, though the sigh in her voice gives away her uncertainty, “I’ll be okay, amore.”
Your eyes scan over her face before you nod. Her arms pull you closer, noses brushing before she presses a sound kiss to your lips. Melissa’s arms shift and her hands cup your face, moving your head to press kisses to your cheeks, forehead, and chin, until the sour look on your face disappears.
Tugging her into you, you bury your head into her neck, pressing a long kiss there. From her neck you mumble, “I’ll be in the room right next door.”
“I’ll survive in the guest room, this is your bedroom,” she says, though she doesn’t fully mean it.
“What’s mine is yours. Plus, this one’s more comfortable, you’ll thank me later,” you hug her tighter, “so... I will be next door.”
“I told you, I’ll be fine,” she says. It’s more for her than you this time. Three years. Three years of falling asleep with you still awake beside her and waking up with you already looking at her.
You walk her back towards the bed, getting in with her, though not under the covers. With everyone, especially your mother, you don’t think it’ll hurt to stay until Melissa falls asleep. Her back presses to your front, hand holding yours to her chest, fast beating heart beneath. In a hushed voice, you speak about little things that don’t matter in hopes that it will calm her enough. Slowly her breath evens out, face burying into the pillow as it always does when you hold her like this.
Carefully, you detangle yourself from her and press a kiss to her hair, “I love you.” Stepping out of the room slowly, you leave the door cracked just a little and eye Melissa before turning. At the top of the stairs is your mother, brows raised.
“You better be going to your own bed,” she says quietly, though her tone is hard.
Rolling your eyes, you respond, “I am. Just had to make sure Melissa was asleep first.” You try to go into the room next door, but your mom’s face is silently asking for context, “she doesn’t sleep well. Different place, different sleeping arrangement, it’s difficult.”
You don’t particularly appreciate the dismissive way your mom just nods before walking towards the master bedroom, clearly thinking it was just an excuse, but it’s too late to fight about it. The sooner you sleep, the sooner you can wake up and crawl into bed with Melissa before she wakes. You watch the crack in the door and listen for Melissa until sleep comes over you.
—☽—
Something wakes you just past three in the morning, an ear splitting scream coming from next door. At first, you think it’s just your own anxiety, closing your eyes slowly. A second scream, this time of your name, and you’re springing out of bed, throwing the door open hard enough to bounce off the wall and slam shut. Four steps bring you to your childhood bedroom, rapidly swinging the door open to run in, not noticing the others joining you in the hall.
When you get into the room, moonlight illuminates Melissa where she’s sitting up with a hand gripping her shirt as she breathes in quick, panicked pants, eyes flying around the room until they land on you. Before she can even reach for you, you’re practically pouncing on the bed to get in front of her. Your hands go to her shoulders, her own gripping your forearms, her watery eyes darting around your face. Taking in deep breaths and letting them out slowly, you motion for Melissa to mimic you, trying to slow her rapid breath and heart.
Short gasps become slow, shaky breaths as panic begins to fade and tears form. A whimper of your name makes you pull her into you, her arms gripping your shirt and she cries into your neck. Between broken sobs, only the words window, knife, and everywhere and mention of a him come through, but you understood. This wasn’t the first time Eric’s actions haunted her at night, though it had been nearly two years since she’d woken up in a sweat.
Peeking over your shoulder, you see your parents and brother in the doorway. The look you give your mother is filled with anger and a raised brow that says I told you to listen. The clear fury makes your father pull her back towards their own room, pushing your brother to his. Some level of courtesy hits your mom, closing the door fully before she gets tugged away.
Attention back on Melissa, you alternate between playing with the ends of her hair and lightly dragging your nails over her back under her shirt. You tuck her hair behind her ear, tacky from tears, “you’re safe, Mel. Nothing and no one’s going to hurt you, I promise. I wouldn’t let them.”
Rocking side to side gently, you feel her breathing return to normal, body no longer shaking from tears. Trying not to jostle her, you turn your body to lay down with her, keeping her tucked into your neck with your arms around her. Pressing a kiss to her head, you slide an arm down to grab her hand, lacing your fingers together.
“I’m sorry,” she whispers, just below your ear.
You squeeze her hand, “you never have to apologize for this. If anything, I’m the one that should be sorry. I should have stayed.”
She sniffled, “I’m a grown woman, I should be able to sleep alone.”
“And I should be able to stand up to my mother about sleeping in the same bed as my girlfriend, yet here we are,” you say jokingly, trying to lighten the mood.
Thankfully, she chuckles, the vibration on your skin making you smile, “so it’s all your fault.”
“I’ll gladly take the blame,” you mumble as you settle into the bed more, relaxing as you feel the redhead relax against you.
In a sudden move, Melissa props herself up over you, hair dangling in your face. Leaning down, she kisses your forehead, then each cheek, and finally your lips, long and loving. It’s a quiet thanks that she will never owe you.
“I love you,” she whispers.
“I love you more,” you whisper back.
It takes half an hour for sleep to creep back in, Melissa’s breathing growing slow where she rests on your chest, your heart beating under her ear. When she eventually falls back asleep against your chest, you stay awake and trace lines on her back. You’ll gladly stand guard if it means she sleeps peacefully, stay awake if it means she’s safe.
note: solaris write a fic under 3k like u planned challenge good lord man. also thank you thank you for the compliment, it’s an honor to be the first person u thought of to write this. i hope i did ur vision justice <3
as always, feedback appreciated <3
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elllisaaa · 22 hours
Note
Hiiiiiiiiiii!! I love your work, and I get so excited whenever i see one of your posts pop up 💗💗
Idk if you'll be able to do anything with this, but this was just a random thought I had after a very real experience at the gym but
What about reader getting intimidated by a member bc of their muscles/height? Like maybe they're friends or in a relationship, and it's just like a cute sweet little moment (i can see this with anyone in svt tbh, but obv gym line would be best)
It's okay if you don't wanna do this! I just thought I'd throw it out there lol
Anyways, I hope you have a great day/night!!!!! 💖
you're so cute anonie !! thank you so much for reading my works, and i'm so glad to bring you joy with my silly posts ! but i totally get what you're saying, whenever i go to the gym without my friends, i'm so intimidated by the big guys so i get you ! plus i looove it whenever someone comes in my inbox to let out some random thoughts like that, keep doing that please !!
and to this screams MINGYU, who is so tall and big, but sometimes forgets how impressive it can be for other people. he sees you struggling to reach the bar of one of the machines because you're too short, and he runs to you to help you pull it down. you shyly thank him, and he goes back to his workout, but he cannot help stealing glances at you whenever you're at the gym at the same time as him. and sometimes, he catches you also looking at him but you always turn your eyes away and he doesn't understand why.
but mingyu doesn't want to annoy you during your workout, so he doesn't say anything. except that one day he sees you preparing to squat and he comes by quickly and asks you if you need someone to spot you. he's so cute with his cheeks all red that you cannot say no.
from this moment on, the two of you keep talking and you become his gym crush immediately. he already thought that you were insanely pretty, but now he's also aware that you're the sweetest human on earth and he's smitten by you. some weeks after you grew closer and started to workout together, he will start to wonder why you didn't approach him sooner.
"do i look like a bad guy ?" you giggled at his little joke, shaking your head. "not, that's not it. but you're… well, you're quite impressive." mingyu seemed so surprised you couldn't help but laugh again at how dumbfounded he was. "impressive ? me ?" - "don't play dumb gyu, you're so tall and big, it's a little intimidating at first."
mingyu tries to process the information for a moment, as he didn't think he could've impressed you just because of his size. but for some reasons, it fuels his ego and it feels good to know that he must also look dependable because he wants you to ask for his help everytime you need it.
"do you still find me impressive ?" he questioned, honestly curious about your answer, but he also had other thoughts in mind. "physically ? yes, don't think i didn't count how much you can bench press. but i also know that you're very sweet, and cute, and you take good care of me, so how could i be intimidated ?"
a soft smile takes over mingyu's face as he leans in, getting closer to you until your lips are only inches away. "does this intimidate you ?" - "no… not at all." this time, you take it upon yourself to make a move and kiss him softly. you can feel his lips stretching in a big, gummy smile against yours. and you can't help the giggle you let out when he looks you in the eyes, his forehead resting against yours, his eyes letting you know everything you needed to.
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spicyclover · 1 day
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You betrayed me
Summary : I played dumb but I always knew. I kept quiet so I could keep you. You betrayed me, and I know that you'll never feel sorry for the way I hurt.
Hope you’ll enjoy it. Let me know in the comment section.
Thank you! :)
Lots of love, xxx Spicy Clover
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He’s sticking a knife in my heart. I can't breathe. It is fucking insane. Eight months of this bullshit. Eight months, and I was fucking blind. I should have known it was all a lie. All the little touches, all the little words of love, all the caresses. Fuck I’m stupid. Eight months in a relationship with this asshole. I played dumb but I always knew.
"I'm sorry," sobs Lando through my bedroom door. "It's fuck up." His hand tries for the hundred time to open the door without success. "Let's talk baby, you're overreacting."
"You fucking lie to me, you make me believe thing and I'm overreacting?" I explode in anger. How dare he put it on my fault? "I'm a dare. You realize it is fuck up!"
"I know." I push him out of my way and head for the kitchen. "Let me explain..."
"Explain?" I turn around and my eyes meet his. At that moment, I feel only pity for this asshole. Pity, because he's only a shameless dog. "Do. Enlighten me, Lando."
Lando’s eyes fall to the ground. He no longer dares to look at me and his tears flow. I can’t believe it. He stabs me in the back, and he's the one crying. The last few months come to mind. Our first meet, his eagerness to go out together. This mania to leave me on read until he deigns to give me his attention again. Him refusing to meet my parents or him refusing that I come to his house. The many parties we spent apart because he didn’t want his friends to know we were together. What a hell-hole shit, that scumbag.
"You were a dare. Yes, and I am sorry. I feel terrible because the more time I spent with you and the more I realize you are amazing."
"Not amazing enough for you to settle for me though." You whisper with bitterness between your teeth. His hands tries to cope my face but I slam them down. "DON'T fucking touch me."
He raises his hand in defeat and continues. "I can't settle, not right now. I can't." More tears fall from his cheeks.
"Why are you crying Norris?" I ask, gritting my teeth. "YOU DON'T GET TO FUCKING CRY." This time I yell. I can't take this anymore. I need to walk. I’m starting to walk around the kitchen. I’m thinking about this situation, a why. I know I’m never gonna have the real reason why he hurt me. I turn and turn like a lion in its cage. The pain rises and the anger boils. I want to slap him, to shout the worst, yet I am unable to form coherent sentences in my mouth. "You're sick. You disgust me."
"I'm sorry..."
"STOP! FUCKING SAY I'M SORRY. YOU'RE NOT." As I leave my body, I see the plate on the counter end up in my hand and the next second explode against the wall behind this traitor. "You betrayed me, Lando. And I know damn well that you'll never feel sorry for the way I hurt."
Lando raises his face that he hid at the impact of the plate next to him and he turns to me bewildered. Yet he seems to be cut off. His reaction doesn’t come. He’s just looking me. I must look crazy. I’m wearing one of his oversize t-shirt, we’re in the middle of the night, and my hair is pissed. My eyes are swollen and I’m breathing loudly. I want him out of my sight, out of my life.
"Get out." I said without emotion in my voice. He doesn't move. His stare is still on me and I can't. I'm going to be sick. "GET OUT!" He jumps and looks around. He finally reacts. He takes a few steps towards the door.
"All this" He pauses, searching his words. "It wasn't meant to hurt you..."
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xoxoluka · 1 day
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ᴄʟᴀᴅᴅᴀɢʜ
jschlatt x streamer!reader
summary: you wear the same ring every day, every stream, in the same direction. your fans notice one day that the direction of it changed.
warnings: swearing, not a very descriptive fic
a/n: for those not familiar with claddagh rings, they are rings from Irish culture that are most commonly used to show your status. right ring finger upside down means single, right ring finger right side up means taken. look into them if you are still confused or would consider buying one <3
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gummygone: what's the ring say today???
CelestialCat: SHOW US THE RING
alwaysstar: what are we today
"chat," you giggle, holding up the upside down ring on your finger for the camera to see. "it's the same thing today, i promise. nothing's changing anytime soon."
the chat was flooded with 'aww's and 'why not's and crying emojis, making you laugh again. your audience had a nightly routine before the end of stream where they would bug you about your relationship status, especially since you wore it so freely on your hand.
you got used to giving them disappointing news, although you were hoping that you'd be able to tell them something else very soon.
you end stream soon after your nightly conversation with the chat, and stand up from your desk to close down your office and get ready for bed. once fully showered, washed, and clothed, you got a text as you were plugging in your phone.
'you looked good tonight, toots.'
you smile, biting your lip subconsciously.
'you saw?' you respond, laying back on your bed as you held your phone up.
'of course i did. i could never pass up seeing your face.'
you turn red at his flirtatious words. 'you can see it in person tomorrow, if you're up for it.'
'absolutely.'
you stay up for nearly another hour talking to Jay, making plans to meet up for lunch tomorrow.
you enter the small coffee shop, the warm atmosphere surrounding you and comforting you immediately. you spot your date and give him a wave, rushing over to meet him.
"i missed you," you say as you smile, sitting in the chair across from him.
"'missed you too," Jay smiles back, pushing a plate and a cup towards you. "i ordered your favorite, i hope you don't mind." he spoke in a tone that told you he knew you weren't going to mind either way.
"how could i?" you respond playfully. "thank you."
you banter lightly back and forth for a while, until you notice Jay pause, an unfamiliar glint of hesitation in his eyes. it goes away quickly, allowing him to speak confidently.
"you know," he starts. "we've been doing this for a few months now, right?"
"like.. going on dates and stuff? yeah, i'd say so," you nod, taking a sip of your drink.
"so then.. how'd you like to make it official? about time, right?" he asks, trying to seem as nonchalant as possible.
you sit up in surprise, but a smile breaks onto your face anyway. "yeah! yeah, i'd like that."
"jesus christ, dude," you exclaim, jerking the plastic steering wheel to the side, evading the car that you had drifted too closely too in-game. you were playing truck driving simulator tonight, which was one of your (and your audience's) favorites. it was late, so your real-life self and in-game self were both entirely too tired to be driving a truck.
as you took a moment to yawn, you glanced at chat, noticing a few standalone comments about your ring. you quickly readjusted yourself, pretending like you hadn't just read the comments, and continued to drive. 'as long as they don't all see it...'
you hadn't realized that the way you drive had your ring fully on display, you right hand on top of the steering wheel as your left supported the bottom. a keen eye would've noticed the difference, but hopefully not all of the eyes. you quickly finished up the level, parking the truck and gaining the money and XP. you paused the music and closed the game window, bringing your facecam back to fullscreen. you noticed the usual ring comments, and the few people who had noticed the difference.
"oh, man, chat. i totally forgot to put my ring on this morning," you lie, slipping the ring off with just one hand strategically. "but i'm telling you it's the same. no changes." you'd never been a good liar, the tips of your ears going slightly red, your face flushing, and your small laughs as you spoke.
TheyCallMeDawg: yeah okay buddy
"woah, woah, chat, what's with the attitude tonight?" you jokingly ask after reading that comment. "y'all are crazy, go to bed." you say your final goodbyes to the stream for the night and do your nightly routine. although, tonight, you were going to text Jay first.
'they totally know.'
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not rlly a fan, but it was for fun
lmk what you think! <3
© property of xoxoluka. do not repost.
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mistress-ofmagic · 3 days
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Around the Realms in 80 days - chapter 22
Pairing: Reader x Loki
Story summary: You have fallen through a portal during the convergence into Asgard and come face to face with Thor, and his brother Loki. With no way to return, you must travel with the two men and their hoard of asgardian soldiers to get back home. Things get from bad to worse when you have to share a tent with the god of mischief himself.
Notes:
Okay I don't know if any of you guys are still out there and still wanting an update for this story but I'm providing one anyway! I really do hope that you're still with me (and if you can't remember what happened that feels like a good time for a re-read right??)
Read this story on a03!
find all parts to this story on Tumblr here:
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You’d had better days, you mused. 
Better weeks, months, years…
“If you continue pulling that face it will get stuck and you’ll get wrinkles” Loki chimed behind you. 
You glared up at him, scowling even harder out of spite. 
He grinned down at you.
After Loki’s admission two days ago, his mood had been…interesting. He had stayed beside you in the hospital when he could, but he kept swapping between being distant and being close. 
No real change there then, you thought.
You hadn’t brought the whole being a frost Giant thing up again, despite your thousands of questions in case you pushed him too far and he got annoyed with you and decided to stop visiting. 
Now however, he seemed to be in a good mood although you felt that had more to do with the fact he was currently pushing you around in a wheelchair. 
His eyes had lit up when the nurses had suggested it, despite the fact you felt well enough to walk really and for most of your journey you would just be in the lift anyway. You had protested multiple times but now Loki had got the idea in his head there was really no persuading him otherwise.
“Isn’t this nice?” He asked, too jovial for your liking. 
You put your tongue out and rolled your eyes when you thought he wasn’t looking. 
“I saw that you little chit.” 
He rocked the wheelchair like he was going to tip you out. 
“LOKI!” You yelled, gripping to the sides of your chair. 
The lift attendant had looked pale when you’d first stepped in, and now he looked rather green.
Loki roared with laughter. 
“Oh come on darling, you really think I would throw a vulnerable maiden out of her chair?”
Before having to face that your answer to that question might actually be no and that you knew Loki would never do anything to hurt you, or the fact that this was the third time he had called you darling, the doors of the lift opened onto the floor where you were meeting with Stark and the Avengers. 
Apparently Tony had wanted to wait until you were a bit better before doing a debrief on what had gone down on Muspelheim.
Loki wheeled you down small corridor and into the large meeting room. Like many of the rooms in Stark towers, the windows were completely glass and looking down onto the city below. It was as far as being outside as you had got in the past few days and you stared out, longingly. 
Distracting you slightly from the view, was the Avengers sat around the table. Thor was there of course, as well as Captain America, Natasha and Dr Bruce Banner. A smaller cohort that had welcomed you in when you had first arrived. 
Natasha seemed to assess you with cool eyes, but Bruce shot you a sympathetic look which you felt was a lot to do with the fact you were wearing a very cool and flattering nightie with Shrek’s face all over it as it was the only thing that could fit over your bandages. 
Loki wheeled you into a space that had been left chair-less for you as he took the one next to you. 
Tony gave you a tired smile.
“How you feeling kid?”
“Better thank you. And thank you for the care on your wards too!” 
He brushed you off with a wave of his hand. 
“I suppose I should thank you for saving Rock of Ages life too.” Tony shot Loki a disgruntled look. “He is helping us with this situation after all.” He said, as if he wasn’t particularly happy about it. “Its nice to see you taking your babysitting duties very seriously, although next time I’d appreciate it if you stay away from certain death, he’s not worth it.” 
Loki gave a half shrug, “that’s one thing we agree on.” 
You scowled again. 
“Plus now you are officially hired as a member of my workforce, it reflects badly on me.”
You snorted, “If the babysitter club ever want a new member i’ll be the first in line. And don’t worry, I have no desire to face certain death ever again.” 
Although I would save Loki again, a little voice in your head added that you pushed down into the depths of your subconscious. 
“So, Wonderland’s still with us, but we still no nothing about the current alien threat to Earth.” Stark said gloomily. 
“Well, we found out Surtur’s made some sort of deal with someone to er…cause something.” Thor supplied.
Stark pinched the bridge of his nose.
“Next to nothing then. Natasha?” 
She shrugged. “Nothing at any of the reported sites, no sign of anything coming in or out.” 
“We did learn that they are taking humans for something.” You piped up. 
Everyone stared at you and you immediately regretted speaking at all.
“One of the fire demons told me.” You mumbled.
“Is there no help from your…lot?” Steve asked to Thor. 
“Sadly, Ragnarok is a myth across the other realms too, not just on Midgard. There will be many that don’t take it seriously seriously. And, no one would be bothered enough about a few missing humans to get involved in an intergalactic war.” Loki shrugged. 
Stark scoffed “A few?”
He pulled up a page a hologram of various news stories over the past few weeks, of humans going missing, seemingly vanishing without a trace. 
It was worse than you thought, and it seemed the rates where going up by the day. 
“The fire demon I spoke with, he told me I could go with him, somewhere where they could make me more powerful.” You spoke again. 
Tony and Bruce swapped concerned faces. 
“Did he say anything else?”
“No, not really, just promises of a greater future or something.”
“Well it might not be much but, good work.” Steve said, and flashed you an all American pearly smile and you blushed in spite of yourself.
“Yes, Latte has proved herself to be truly courageous on this trip.” Thor agreed. 
“Oh well, I don’t know about all that.” You murmured feeling your face burn up. It was only an accident anyway that you had found anything out, it’s not like you’d stormed up to a fire demon and demand he speak to you. 
Nevertheless, you were only a few beats away from kicking your feet and giggling but you refrained yourself.
Loki muttered something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like “suck up” and you glared at him, taking a long swig of water to cool yourself down. 
“You reap what you sow kid, I’ll be recruiting you to do further missions with Loki if you’re not careful. Who knew the worlds rudest goth could make friends? And a lowly earthling at that.” Stark challenged.
You tensed. You weren’t really 100% sure if Loki actually did consider you a friend, or if he would take offence at the insinuation. 
But Loki leaned back in his chair, “We are friends, friends with benefits.” 
You choked on your water and it spilled down Shreks face as Thor gave you a pat on the back that nearly sent your lungs through your mouth. 
While you recovered no one knew what to say, Steve and Bruce looked alarmed, you weren’t sure if that was at Lokis statement or the fact you had spat out half a glass of water and Starks mouth was hung wide open, his eyes open comically large, Natasha looked mildly amused.
“Its not…” You said between coughing. “That’s not true…Loki…Loki doesn’t know what that term means…he…he can’t….”
You turned to him.
“Where did you even hear that being said?” You spluttered. 
He narrowed his eyes at you. 
“You deny that we are friends in front of Stark and his goonies?”
“I’m not denying were friends Loki, I’m denying were friends with benefits. That doesn’t mean what you think it does it means something really specific on Earth. What…What benefits does our friendship bring?”
Loki shuffled in his seat “Well…you have taught me how to use a midgardian communication device and I have taught you…”
You cut him off “Great, expect thats not what friends with benefits means here it means…” You blushed heavily again. 
“It means friends who…” you tried again. 
Loki was watching you carefully with an eyebrow raised, the corner of his mouth starting to twitch and your uncomfortableness.
“Friends who fuck.” Natasha finished off helpfully. 
You felt your face grow even redder if that were possible. 
“Ah.” Loki said, in a measured tone although you thought you noticed a very light blush across his pale complexion. “I understand now that that might have been misleading.” 
“Well thank God we cleared that up.” Stark sighed, “I thought we were going to have to admit you to the psych ward instead of the burns ward.”
You stared down to avoid eye contact with Loki, feeling a bit awkward. 
“What’s the plan?” Steve asked. 
“Asgardians?” Stark aimed at Thor.
“We won’t get anything more information from Surtur…”
“The people of this planet are disappearing! Into thin air! And some Alien thingies are the culprit! How can I be the protector of the human race if I don’t even have any leads!” Stark yelled. 
Thor and Steve swapped looks. 
“There might be more information we can gather across the other realms” Thor shrugged, “If the true enemy behind this is thought not to be human then they could potentially come from another Realm.”
“We would have no idea where to start though, it’s not like the nine realms are a small area to cover.” Loki argued. 
“Doctor Foster does a lot of research into the nine realms, will she have any information for us?” Tony asked Thor hopefully.
“I…I can ask her to see what she has found.” Thor placated. 
“In the meantime, we have our best scientists searching the skies for any sign of alien invasions.” Bruce added. “Tony I’m sure we will find something, we’ve got people going to sites where people have disappeared and looking into traces and signals that have been left behind, something is bound to flag up. And the researchers will keep monitoring the fire demons.”
Stark sighed. And you got a feeling that until this thing was settled he was never be satisfied, knowing the people of Earth were in danger. 
“Meeting adjourned or whatever… I need a fucking drink.” 
                                                                         ***
“13 down, 7 letters, a drawing intended to explain how something happens.” 
“Diagram?” 
Oliver nodded, writing it down. 
“Okay… 5 across, 5 letters, spaghetti for example that’s got to be pasta…what about this one, 8 letters, endurance.”
“Stamina? No wait, that’s only 7…patience?” 
“Yeah, has to be.” 
It was the day after Starks meeting. Loki had wheeled you back into your hospital room after the meeting and then he’d had to then leave pretty sharpish, stating he had something he needed to do although you wondered if he still felt awkward about the whole friends with benefits thing. Then again, you wondered if Loki ever really felt awkward about anything, or if he was immune to embarrassment.
After the meeting you had been so damn tired that by the time he’d wheeled you back you’d been nearly asleep. The meeting was the most you had done since the attack and it had exhausted you. 
Plus you were still pretty drowsy from all the pain medication you were on. You’d expected him to call over a nurse but instead he’d actually gotten you the medication you needed and then to your extreme surprise, he’d picked you up from your chair bridal style and put you into bed. 
You were almost too sleepy to have noticed what was going on, but shockingly you were certain he had left a featherlight kiss on your forehead before he left. 
Maybe you had imagined it in your sleepy state, after all he hadn’t been in to see you today.
The nurse had visited today and checked you over, changing your bandages. She had assured you your burns were healing nicely, and Loki’s fast thinking of applying his cold skin to your stomach and chest had saved most of your skin resulting in you only needing a smallish emergency skin graft.  
You’d also been joined by Oliver, who had come prepared for the nurses recommendation of resting as much as possible by providing cross-words. 
“You’re pretty good at these.” He gave his lopsided grin. 
“Symptoms of a misguided youth I’m afraid. I might not have gone to Harvard but I am pretty nifty with a crossword.” 
“Harvard’s overrated.”
“Alright for you to say Mr Ivy League.”
Oliver chuckled. “Wait this is a cryptic one, it says ‘to tantalise the left is a plant.’
“Huh? Wait let me see.”
Oliver stood up from the chair and brought the book over to you. He perched himself on the edge of your hospital bed and you moved over to give him more room.
“Do you need any more medication?” Oliver suddenly asked. 
“I should be good thank you.” You smiled at him. 
Man he was so sweet. Loki had done the same thing yesterday but still. It was nice to have someone else here who cared about you. 
You caught his blue eyes. He had nice looking eyes you noticed, but they missed the tint of green you were used to seeing in Loki’s eyes. 
Actually, why where you thinking about Lokis eyes at all?
Oliver placing his hand over yours on the bed brought you back to the present moment. 
“I was thinking, maybe when you’re feeling better I could take you….”
Before Oliver could finish his sentence, the door to your room opened and Loki strode in. 
Loki took in your close proximity to Oliver, and the fact you were holding hands and his eyes narrowed. 
There was a moment of awkward silence, and for some reason your natural instinct was to jump back sheepishly from Oliver. Despite having no reason at all to feel guilt, you still felt…something.
“I had come to see how you were faring, but I see you have company already.” Those blue/green eyes you had just been thinking about were harsher than you had seen them in a while. 
“We were just doing cross words.” You said, lamely. 
Instead of keeping your mouth shut you continued like an imbecile. “Erm were stuck on a cryptic one if you wanted to help…”
“And intrude on this…personal moment.” He sneered.
“That wasn’t…I mean we were just…” You started and then sat up further in bed, trying to look authoritative, which was harder than you might think for someone attached to an IV drip. “Actually I don’t have to explain myself to you.” 
“Oh, I see.” His voice was cold, and it felt like the room got colder too.
“What do you see?”
Loki ignored you.
“Get out.” He directed at Oliver. 
Your temper started to rise.
“Hey, he doesn’t have to leave we were in the middle of something.”
“Look, um maybe I should just go.” Oliver spoke up squeezing your hand before standing up. 
“I’ll leave the book here for you for when you get bored. I hope you feel better, I’ll come visit again soon and bring some more stuff.” He gave you a quick kiss on the cheek. 
Kudos to Oliver, he walked past Loki out of the room without crying or screaming.
After he had left, Loki breezed into the room and arranged the flowers at the table at the bottom of the table like he hadn’t just yelled at your friend to leave. 
“Dude what is wrong with you?” You directed at Loki. “I am allowed to have friends!”
He rolled his eyes. 
“He clearly wants to be more than friends.”
You made a funny noise in the back of your throat. You wouldn’t be totally against Oliver having more than friendly feelings, a distraction from these insane feelings for Loki that keep creeping up out of no where might be a good thing, right? 
Not that you had any feelings for Loki, obviously.
Loki studied you closely before clearing his throat. 
“Are you and this mortal…friends with benefits?” 
“Loki!” You glared at him.
His facial expression remained calm as he continued staring at you.
“I’m simply asking."
“No! No, God I wish you had never learnt what that term meant. Also I am sleeping next to you every night where would I find the time?”
“Yes, you are aren’t you.” He said, too smugly for your liking. 
“Although I do have every right to explore…you know, that side of things with someone if I want to.” 
His eyes narrowed again, and stood up taller.
“We are in the middle of a crisis here. Is now the right time to be engaging in a dalliance?” 
“You can’t be serious!” You said indignantly. 
“I’m being very serious!”  He matched your tone. 
"Are you giving me a lecture right now on my love life?” When he didn’t say anything you continued. 
“You don’t even care about humans, why are you even bothered about this crisis suddenly?”
“You’re being ridiculous, you can’t seriously mean to engage with this… mere mortal. ” 
“I’m being ridiculous? You’re being ridiculous! In case you forgot, I happen to be a mere mortal too!”
Loki kind of did look taken a back for a second, as if he had actually forgotten that. 
“What I get up to is not even any of your business.” You told him
“Fine.” He sneered, walking towards the door.
“Fine!” You shouted back. 
He slammed the door behind him as you threw your puzzle book at him. 
“Ah!” You screamed to yourself. 
The cheek of that asshole to have a go at you for letting yourself engage in some dating when he was the one that slept with Ylva while you were touring around Asgard. 
You tossed and turned around in your bed, but eventually the drowsiness kicked back in and you managed to fall asleep. 
                                                                     ***
One moment, you were fast asleep, the next moment you heard an explosion. You sat up quickly, disorientated and confused. Another explosion sounded and you got up and ran to the window.
You blinked and blinked again. 
A piece of metal fell seemingly from the sky and you looked up. 
The tower was under attack. 
Notes: I hoped you guys enjoyed this and are still liking the story!!
Taglist:
@creationsbyme  @kikster606  @slytherinintj13  @th0rswh0res  @huntress-artemiss  @jannieka394 @stefffrs  @misswimberly @thedistractedagglomeration  @yoongissidebitchh  @purplekitten30 @mischief2sarawr  @johnmurphys-sass 
@lonadane  @imalovernotahater @lokisgoodgirl  @laliceee @dlwrish  @paetonnn  @lovelysizzlingbluebird   @reas-writing  @buttercupcookies-blog @acidcasualties @alialiclouds 
@buckybarneslovesteve @evelyn-rathmore 
@Im-a-slut-for-fluff  @jainaeatsstars @mypainischronicbutmyassisiconic
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sicklymuttz · 2 days
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um hi so I drew jeremy
and as I was drawing I was brainstorming so much lore
so basically, here a thing i came up with for Jeremy and how it pertains to my au I have with infected and unpleasant
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Okay so basically... I had the idea of Jeremy coming from a video game, similar to how Infected and Unpleasant are technically now game characters in Roblox. He's from an old arcade game, a save the princess type of story, I'm thinkin. And Jeremy was the hero you played as that saved the princess! However, after years of being around, Jeremy's game soon fell out of style, since Arcade games were as well. The company that made him kinda forgot about him and left him to rot while they made other games.
Which is what caused Jeremy to go rogue. See, he didn't want to just be forgotten, instead, he made sure he was gonna thrive, with or without that damn video game. He wanted revenge. So, he escaped. He materialized into the real world, and was gonna make it everyone else's problem. Pissed off and angry that he wasn't popular anymore, he stormed off and killed anyone who tried to wrong him. See, Infected cant be outside of his computer for very long, and the same goes for Jeremy. The longer he remained outside of his game, the more he bugged out he got and the more he lost control of himself.
He convinced himself that he was still the hero of the story. He had to be. He was only doing what was right by killing the people who deserved it. Jeremy is the hero, dammit, he's the one who's gonna save the fucking day.
But with a mind so clouded in revenge and hatred, and a bug infesting his coding, there was no sign of the hero Jeremy used to be.
OOPSIE! sorry i got all serious there, promise it won't happen again!!!
I really want to incorporate unpleasant and Jeremy being exes as well, but with how my lore is set up, it would be a little difficult... I'll figure something out, I promise!!!! I already have kind of an idea and if I ever get it fully sorted out, I'll be sure to share
ANYWAY if you made it this far don't forget to SMASH that like button, HIT subscribe and TURN ON that bell! stay tuned for another autistic ass rambling, and if you're still here, THANKS FOR READING SO FAR!!!! okay bye now :3
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gender-trash · 2 days
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I would be very interested in hearing the museum design rant
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by popular demand: Guy That Took One (1) Museum Studies Class Focused On Science Museums Rants About Art Museums. thank u for coming please have a seat
so. background. the concept of the "science museum" grew out of 1) the wunderkammer (cabinet of curiosities), also known as "hey check out all this weird cool shit i have", and 2) academic collections of natural history specimens (usually taxidermied) -- pre-photography these were super important for biological research (see also). early science museums usually grew out of university collections or bequests of some guy's Weird Shit Collection or both, and were focused on utility to researchers rather than educational value to the layperson (picture a room just, full of taxidermy birds with little labels on them and not a lot of curation outside that). eventually i guess they figured they could make more on admission by aiming for a mass audience? or maybe it was the cultural influence of all the world's fairs and shit (many of which also caused science museums to exist), which were aimed at a mass audience. or maybe it was because the research function became much more divorced from the museum function over time. i dunno. ANYWAY, science and technology museums nowadays have basically zero research function; the exhibits are designed more or less solely for educating the layperson (and very frequently the layperson is assumed to be a child, which does honestly irritate me, as an adult who likes to go to science museums). the collections are still there in case someone does need some DNA from one of the preserved bird skins, but items from the collections that are exhibited typically exist in service of the exhibit's conceptual message, rather than the other way around.
meanwhile at art museums they kind of haven't moved on from the "here is my pile of weird shit" paradigm, except it's "here is my pile of Fine Art". as far as i can tell, the thing that curators (and donors!) care about above all is The Collection. what artists are represented in The Collection? rich fucks derive personal prestige from donating their shit to The Collection. in big art museums usually something like 3-5% of the collection is ever on exhibit -- and sometimes they rotate stuff from the vault in and out, but let's be real, only a fraction of an art museum's square footage is temporary exhibits. they're not going to take the scream off display when it's like the only reason anyone who's not a giant nerd ever visits the norwegian national museum of art. most of the stuff in the vault just sits in the vault forever. like -- art museum curators, my dudes, do you think the general public gives a SINGLE FUCK what's in The Collection that isn't on display? no!! but i guarantee you it will never occur, ever, to an art museum curator that they could print-to-scale high-res images of artworks that are NOT in The Collection in order to contextualize the art in an exhibit, because items that are not in The Collection functionally do not exist to them. (and of course there's the deaccessioning discourse -- tumblr collectively has some level of awareness that repatriation is A Whole Kettle of Worms but even just garden-variety selling off parts of The Collection is a huge hairy fucking deal. check out deaccessioning and its discontents; it's a banger read if you're into This Kind Of Thing.)
with the contents of The Collection foregrounded like this, what you wind up with is art museum exhibits where the exhibit's message is kind of downstream of what shit you've got in the collection. often the message is just "here is some art from [century] [location]", or, if someone felt like doing a little exhibit design one fine morning, "here is some art from [century] [location] which is interesting for [reason]". the displays are SOOOOO bad by science museum standards -- if you're lucky you get a little explanatory placard in tiny font relating the art to an art movement or to its historical context or to the artist's career. if you're unlucky you get artist name, date, and medium. fucker most of the people who visit your museum know Jack Shit about art history why are you doing them dirty like this
(if you don't get it you're just not Cultured enough. fuck you, we're the art museum!)
i think i've talked about this before on this blog but the best-exhibited art exhibit i've ever been to was actually at the boston museum of science, in this traveling leonardo da vinci exhibit where they'd done a bunch of historical reconstructions of inventions out of his notebooks, and that was the main Thing, but also they had a whole little exhibit devoted to the mona lisa. obviously they didn't even have the real fucking mona lisa, but they went into a lot of detail on like -- here's some X-ray and UV photos of it, and here's how art experts interpret them. here's a (photo of a) contemporary study of the finished painting, which we've cleaned the yellowed varnish off of, so you can see what the colors looked like before the varnish yellowed. here's why we can't clean the varnish off the actual painting (da vinci used multiple varnish layers and thinned paints to translucency with varnish to create the illusion of depth, which means we now can't remove the yellowed varnish without stripping paint).
even if you don't go into that level of depth about every painting (and how could you? there absolutely wouldn't be space), you could at least talk a little about, like, pigment availability -- pigment availability is an INCREDIBLY useful lens for looking at historical paintings and, unbelievably, never once have i seen an art museum exhibit discuss it (and i've been to a lot of art museums). you know how medieval european religious paintings often have funky skin tones? THEY HADN'T INVENTED CADMIUM PIGMENTS YET. for red pigments you had like... red ochre (a muted earth-based pigment, like all ochres and umbers), vermilion (ESPENSIVE), alizarin crimson (aka madder -- this is one of my favorite reds, but it's cool-toned and NOT good for mixing most skintones), carmine/cochineal (ALSO ESPENSIVE, and purple-ish so you wouldn't want to use it for skintones anyway), red lead/minium (cheaper than vermilion), indian red/various other iron oxide reds, and apparently fucking realgar? sure. whatever. what the hell was i talking about.
oh yeah -- anyway, i'd kill for an art exhibit that's just, like, one or two oil paintings from each century for six centuries, with sample palettes of the pigments they used. but no! if an art museum curator has to put in any level of effort beyond writing up a little placard and maybe a room-level text block, they'll literally keel over and die. dude, every piece of art was made in a material context for a social purpose! it's completely deranged to divorce it from its material context and only mention the social purpose insofar as it matters to art history the field. for god's sake half the time the placard doesn't even tell you if the thing was a commission or not. there's a lot to be said about edo period woodblock prints and mass culture driven by the growing merchant class! the met has a fuckton of edo period prints; they could get a hell of an exhibit out of that!
or, tying back to an earlier thread -- the detroit institute of arts has got a solid like eight picasso paintings. when i went, they were kind of just... hanging out in a room. fuck it, let's make this an exhibit! picasso's an artist who pretty famously had Periods, right? why don't you group the paintings by period, and if you've only got one or two (or even zero!) from a particular period, pad it out with some decent life-size prints so i can compare them and get a better sense for the overarching similarities? and then arrange them all in a timeline, with little summaries of what each Period was ~about~? that'd teach me a hell of a lot more about picasso -- but you'd have to admit you don't have Every Cool Painting Ever in The Collection, which is illegalé.
also thinking about the mit museum temporary exhibit i saw briefly (sorry, i was only there for like 10 minutes because i arrived early for a meeting and didn't get a chance to go through it super thoroughly) of a bunch of ship technical drawings from the Hart nautical collection. if you handed this shit to an art museum curator they'd just stick it on the wall and tell you to stand around and look at it until you Understood. so anyway the mit museum had this enormous room-sized diorama of various hull shapes and how they sat in the water and their benefits and drawbacks, placed below the relevant technical drawings.
tbh i think the main problem is that art museum people and science museum people are completely different sets of people, trained in completely different curatorial traditions. it would not occur to an art museum curator to do anything like this because they're probably from the ~art world~ -- maybe they have experience working at an art gallery, or working as an art buyer for a rich collector, neither of which is in any way pedagogical. nobody thinks an exhibit of historical clothing should work like a clothing store but it's fine when it's art, i guess?
also the experience of going to an art museum is pretty user-hostile, i have to say. there's never enough benches, and if you want a backrest, fuck you. fuck you if going up stairs is painful; use our shitty elevator in the corner that we begrudgingly have for wheelchair accessibility, if you can find it. fuck you if you can't see very well, and need to be closer to the art. fuck you if you need to hydrate or eat food regularly; go to our stupid little overpriced cafeteria, and fuck you if we don't actually sell any food you can eat. (obviously you don't want someone accidentally spilling a smoothie on the art, but there's no reason you couldn't provide little Safe For Eating Rooms where people could just duck in and monch a protein bar, except that then you couldn't sell them a $30 salad at the cafe.) fuck you if you're overwhelmed by noise in echoing rooms with hard surfaces and a lot of people in them. fuck you if you are TOO SHORT and so our overhead illumination generates BRIGHT REFLECTIONS ON THE SHINY VARNISH. we're the art museum! we don't give a shit!!!
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so, I read the whole "House Tour (not the house we wanted, but the house we have)", and I loved it so much, and I asked a question after reading it because of the ending, so what was everyone's reaction of toys eating pizza for the first time?
Your First Ever Pizza Night
Synopsis: Angel has to teach the toys how to eat pizza. It's confusing.
---
James' eyes were so wide you thought they would pop out of his head. You nervously smiled at him, feeling the eyes of the toys staring at you from inside the house. "Thank you for your work", you tell him, money in hand. "I, uhm, am sorry for how Catnap tried to scare you away".
"I-it's okay!", he shakes his head. "No big deal, don't worry, Angel".
You eye the group from behind. Catnap tilts his head, still not very trusting of the stranger. You figured that would be the tenth human he talks to in more than a decade. "Take care, okay?"
"You too", he takes the money, counts, and then sighs. You also sigh, giving him a pat in the back. "Man, you really scared everyone out there. I thought you had... You know".
"I've been clean for years. I wouldn't do that", you reassure him. "And now I have those guys to look out for".
Your friend chuckles. "Feeling the weight of parenting on your shoulders already?"
"Urgh, don't even let me start talking about it", you smile. "Okay, I'll head inside now. I don't think half of them know what pizza is".
You tell James your goodbyes, watching him leave. You feel guilty for having him deliver so many pizzas to you, but it is what it is, the kids (your kids) must be hungry. You prepare yourself mentally before entering the house, closing the front door:
"So! Who's hungry?"
Dogday adjusts himself in the sofa as most of the mini toys yell "me!", rushing towards you, including the mini huggy that was using him as an oversized pillow. You laugh as they swarm you, and you pick up Driver and Bunzo on your arms. The little green huggy stims her hands, while Bunzo climbs on your shoulders: "Show us what that pizza thing is! Show us!"
"Bunzo, you're going to fall if you keep like this", Long Legs warns him, stretching all the way from the other corner of the living room to shoosh the crowd away. One catbee blows a raspberry at her, annoyed. "Get away from them! They're going to fall if you guys keep on like this!", the same catbee from before repeats the gesture, but now a candy cat and a bron imitate her gesture. "Angel!"
"You heard her", your warn the little ones. "C'mon, guys".
They coo away, and you watch Catnap proudly looking after the mini critters, most of whom didn't swarm you. He really is their big brother, uh...?
"Okay, guys. Are you ready?"
Driver stims again as you enter the kitchen, piles of pizza boxes distributed in the counters. Delight is counting them, muttering numbers under her breath, and stops when she notices you: "We have 26 boxes for 80 of us! They may last up to a week if we are careful".
"... What?", you chuckle. "Delight, no. The Prototype gave me enough money to feed everyone for years to come, we don't need to ration our food. You can eat as much as you want to".
You grab the first box you find. Bunzo tries to climb your head to take a look, and you laugh. "Eat as much as we want to? I'm going to explode, then!"
You bring the box to the living room, knowing well the kids are waiting for you to take the first slice. You show the box to Dogday, currently incapable of leaving the sofa thanks to his surgery stitches still being fresh. He deserves to see the first slice, you figured.
"You seeing this, pup?"
"With my two eyes!", Dogday nods. Catnap has approached you, and, with a smile, you open the box: "Behold: Pizza!"
"OOOO!", Bunzo yells. Huggy, who was following you around like a shadow, claps his hands, surprised. Kissy is still holding Poppy, who copies Huggy's clapping.
"It's been so long since I saw a real pizza!", the doll smiles. "And it smells even better!"
"This one is pepperoni pizza. There's 8 slices in every box - you guys should all take one. Eat as much as you want to!"
You take a piece, offering it to Bunzo, who grabs from your hand and shoves it on his mouth. You try your best not to accidentally drop him or Driver thanks to your chukling as he tries to deal with the cheese hanging out from his mouth. "Is elishious! Wha is disss?"
"You're going to get food on Angel's hair", Long Legs politely lifts Bunzo up from your head, using her arm to hold him. "And that's called... Cheese".
"Elishious!", he jumps.
"Please try not to choke!", you offer the next slice to Dogday. The big puppy's eyes go wide, and he shakes his head.
"Give it to the others, Angel..."
"There's enough for everyone, dummy, now eat" you take another slice, giving it to Long Legs, who stared at Bunzo in horror as he was still trying to deal with the cheese. "Theeere you go".
The pink spider stares at her slice with a strange look. She eyes Bunzo, then Dogday, who was holding his own as if it were a delicate piece of ceramic, then opens her mouth, then closes it.
"You eat pizza like this, Long Legs", you grab a slice of your own, biting it and using your teeth and fingers to free yourself from the cheese. Still chewing, you add: "Use your hands to deal with the cheese, everyone, you guys don't want to put too much into your mouths or you'll end up choking on your own food!"
You offered the next slice to Kissy, who stared at it with sparkling eyes before taking her first bite. Huggy bites his in one go, and Driver takes the last one before Delight appears, giving you a new box, still of pepperoni.
"Thank you", you give her a nod. "C'mon, take a slice! You too, Driver".
The mini wuggy jumps from your shoulder, and Delight gives a slice to her first before taking one herself. She blinks many time. "Ooh... This is very... Interesting...?"
She gives it another bite.
"Lots of different tastes... And it's so warm and soft!"
You sigh, noticing Dogday had given his slice to a catbee. "Pizzas aren't exactly soft, but I guess they look like it, considering what you guys had to eat..."
You offer a slice to Catnap.
The feline lowers his head. "Savior, please feed the others first...", he asks. "They're hungrier than me".
"You and Dogday have a lot to learn, uh?", you shake your head. "Okay, kiddos, you heard your boss. There!", you put the box in the ground, watching as the critters stare at you, hesitant. "One slice for each, don't fight each other for more, we have a lot of boxes. Speaking of which, can someone grab the other box... Oh!"
Delight chuckles, one box in each hand. She's polite in the way she gives it to everyone, despite all her isolation. Huggy, on the other hand, is less careful thanks to his lack of proper coordination, but he manages to feed all the mini huggies with some help from Kissy.
Dogday only eats after he's sure every single other toy is doing so. By that point, you're sitting on the sofa, Poppy using a plate, knife and fork to each her own slice of pizza. Catnap merely stares.
"Oh... Ooooh!", the orange dog mutters. His tail is wagging. "A-Angel, this is incredible!"
"Nah, it's just pizza. You're going to have fancier food as soon as I get more groceries".
"Fancier food? Are... Are you sure?"
"The doctors are going to kill me if I don't give you all the nutritients", Dogday stares. "Not literally! It's just a joke!"
"Ah", he sighs, forcing himself to laugh. "Even fancier food, uh...?"
"More!", Bunzo yells, jumping up and down. "I ate two slices already, but I crave more! I think I'll explode!"
"Please don't explode", you mutter. "It hurts".
The bunny mischievously laughs, running towards the kitchen. You eye Catnap, who eyes you back with a head tilt.
"Aren't you going to eat?"
"I... Ate yesterday, savior".
You hear a growl coming from his stomach. "Your 'savior' wants you to eat. Go on, you gotta get those calories. No one should starve".
For the first time since the confrontation agains the Prototype, Catnap lowers his ears and fidgets, nervously looking away from you. Around him, the small critters all eat their own slices, some trying to comfort him with a headbonk or by cuddling next to him.
"Catnap", Dogday calls. "You need to set up a good example for... Them", he points to the critters. "They aren't going to eat more if they see you aren't doing so".
"You know well how our rules work, Dogday. They eat first. Me, second".
"And now you are outside PlayCo. and playing by my own rules, kitty", you bite another slice of pizza, before offering the box to Catnap. "Go on, even Dogday and Long Legs are doing so".
"..."
Catnap's stomach once again growls. Using his hand, he takes a single slice out of the remaining three, eating it in one bite. You patiently wait for his reaction.
His eyes become brighter. His tail curls and moves left and right, and his ears go up as well. He stares at you, asking for permission, and you nod. He eats his second one almost immediately, now using both of his hands so he can take more bites and savor the taste more.
You chuckle, grabbing another box next to you and opening it for him and Dogday to share. The two bigger critters have the same sparkle in their eyes, and both go to their next slice almost at the same time.
This... Feels nice. All of this "family" stuff. Seeing them light up and talk about how this ordinary pizza is the best thing in the entire world, how they are eating so much when only at their second slice. It feels nice. They really are acting like normal kids would.
Maybe we can indeed become the parent they need...?
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Text
In Defense of the Other Teens
Hello besties :)
SO how about that last episode huh? I've certainly seen a lot of interesting takes and cool art and all that come from it!
And I'm... Here to offer my two cents.
Alright y'all, a few things before we actually get into the meat of it. First, this is a long post. Like, even by my standards this post is pretty fucking long. I hope that I'll be able to keep you entertained throughout at the very least, but maybe grab a cup of tea or coffee or the like before venturing under the cut.
Second, my stance on things will become pretty clear I think fairly early on, if you haven't already put two and two together from the title of this post. That said, there are some fairy bold claims I'm gonna make here, and the fact of the matter is some of them may very well be disproven as soon as today's Teen Talk drops. But I wanted to get this out beforehand, partially as a show of faith in a certain someone, and partially cause honestly I think it's good to practice giving oneself room to be wrong about things. That said, there are still many other points that I think remain important regardless of what we find out next episode (or in teen talk), and I hope you'll find those interesting as well.
Next, honestly, the first few chunks of this little essay really start out as more of a rant/vent than a tight analysis, and I kinda start things in a weird spot if I'm being frank with you, so maybe just try to bear with me for the first few parts, ok? They're still important for the bigger picture I'm trying to paint.
Finally, if I come off as a little extra salty and sassy in this one, I am, but I *promise* it's all in good fun. :)
Alright, so let me tell you my thoughts about Lincoln.
You know what I think? What I honestly, genuinely think? Linc is the most selfless of the teens by a long shot. Like, there's literally no competition. Enough "all he wants to do is help other people and all they ever do is betray him" with respect to Mr. TalkedGrantIntoAPanicAttackThenLeft and more appreciation and recognition for Lincoln Li SayHiToYourDadForMe Wilson, I'm begging you. I could sit here and start listing examples of Linc's selflessness to you for a good long while, but really no set of examples could better illustrate what differentiates Linc from the rest of the teens than this exchange:
**
Scary: "Chosen one…""
Jodie: "Bat’tholemew, we don't use those words." 
Scary: "Somebody they wouldn't expect."
Taylor: "It's me. It's got to be someone that they don't expect."
Scary: "Yeah." 
Taylor: "Yeah." 
Scary: "It's got to be somebody who's really earned—"
Taylor: "Somebody who’s really earned—" 
Scary: "—the respect."
Taylor: "—the right to... And all the knowledge of all the animes together…"
Scary: "Somebody with more knowledge than anybody else."
Taylor: "Someone with— who knows what to do. S… "
Scary: "Somebody who knows what to do to step up."
Taylor: "Somebody who can step up and be the chosen one."
Scary: "And be the chosen one."
Link: "Hey…"
Normal: "Guys, I think… I might be the chosen one…"
**
Yes, funnily enough, it's Linc's absence here that says a lot about him rather than his presence.
What's more, I frankly just don't think it's fair that Linc can do *so much* for the people around him but the *one time* he decides to do something that (seemingly) goes against Normal's plan, it's depicted as some ultimate act of betrayal or Linc "giving up". I feel like we significantly understate how much the other teens *have* done for the sake of Normal's plan (seriously, are we actually gonna ignore Linc stabbing his leg on a candy cane- TWICE??), and how much they've lost in doing so. If every time they fuck something up undoes everything they've sacrificed or done right, well, that's quite the negativity bias!
So why don't we talk about Linc's decision, actually. Did we just witness Lincoln finally snap? Has he given up on Normal's plan to help the doodler? Has he given up on using empathy? Did Lincoln Li Wilson choose the easy option? I would say no! No to all of those! And I think especially upon a relisten of the final moments in the last episode, Linc's train of thought when he breaks the pic is actually quite clear. And yes, this is about Linc showing empathy towards Scary, but I want to talk about the actual implications of that a bit further as well. Let's start by looking at the final bits of dialogue leading up to the breaking of anchor:
**
Linc: "Scary, what are you even doing?"
Scary: "You gotta destroy it"
Linc: "We can't- you just heard the Doodler's gonna make the world worse it's gonna kill we just gotta find something, why do you have to destroy it-"
Scary: "You don't know that!"
Linc: "I mean you don't know it's not that way we can find another way to destroy it"
Scary: "No, Willy said that it's easier to control if we destroy the anchors"
[ANTHONY EXPLAINS THE SPECIFICS OF WHAT WILLY WOULD HAVE TOLD SCARY]
Linc: "Well we're not gonna do it that way okay, come on like, the easy way is-"
Scary: "Who died and made you the leader?"
Linc: "The easy way is usually the bad way right? Sometimes the better thing is harder."
Scary: "This is easier what you're just gonna tell the pic 'Oh I love you I'm so nice to you' and it's just gonna give you all its secrets that's not how life works."
[LINK TRIES SAYING I LOVE YOU TO THE PIC AND NORM EXPLAINS THAT HE ALREADY TRIED THAT]
Linc: "Okay well like you're right it's gonna be hard but- I know it's not a person but I don't want more people to die we've already killed enough people like can you just do one thing with us and just try to find a way to make this-"
Scary: "The Doodler is gonna kill more people you're not seeing the bigger picture!"
Normal: "What no, Linc don't listen to her!"
Scary: "Listen to me!"
[AND THEN LINC SNAPS THE PIC]
**
Okay there's... A lot to unpack here. I'll start by pointing out what I think are a few key things to take note of:
- Linc is seemingly adamant on choosing the empathetic route and not letting any more people get hurt
- Linc affirms that sometimes the harder route is the better one
- Scary rejects the notion that simply saying "I love you" or otherwise being kind in words could actually do anything
- Norm says "don't listen to her"
- Linc's decision to break the pic only occurs after Scary says what she does (above point), seemingly in conflict with what he himself said only moments prior about not taking the violent route.
What I think needs to be understood about Linc is that, more than anyone in the group, Linc's decisions are calculated. Yes they often catch us off guard (seriously the amount of times Linc has done something that's made me actually gasp in shock is a bit crazy), but once the dust has settled, his decisions are always clearly consistent with who Linc is as a person and his philosophy, and accordingly, never come from a place of selfishness. The humor of it aside, when Linc says that he never misses any shot that he takes (:( Can't find the exact quote), he is entirely correct (and admittedly while I probably should gather various examples to show you what I mean, Linc swapping places with himself and Nicky really is the most perfect demonstration I could possibly ask for, as it showcases both Linc's aforementioned selflessness and how Linc's seemingly shocking decisions are never actually accidents or executed with uncertainty on his end). Try to keep these above points in mind as we move forward.
Next, let's consider the pros and cons for Linc of breaking or not breaking the pic, as seen from Linc's perspective. I suppose the general impression I've gotten thus far is that many people seem to be interpreting Linc breaking the pic as a likely (or sure) sign that he has "given up" on Normal's plan, and given in to choosing the "easier" route. This, I perhaps a bit boldly argue, raises a number of questions and ultimately implodes in on itself as an interpretation after even a brief consideration of them. At the most basic, and perhaps least interesting level, it's not like it would be that hard to search a little bit for some demonstration of love (especially with a certain pair of will-they-won't-they partners not too far away... Though I feel like the pic also could have been interesting as applied to some of the other characters around right now? Anyways...) You could say then, that maybe Linc simply doesn't care about using empathy, and has ultimately lost confidence in Norm's plan by this point, so he takes the path of absolute least resistance cause, well, whatever. But wait, didn't Linc *just* say that they weren't going to do things that way, and that he doesn't want more people to be killed? (You might say then that he thinks Scary has a point on "not seeing the bigger picture" and believes that choosing violence here will result in less deaths, but frankly I just don't think there's anything promising or compelling enough about Scary's argument here for Linc to have any real reason to believe it, all the more so given Willy’s involvement). Are we to think, then, that Linc changes his mind purely on a whim, and a whim influenced by Scary of all people no less? Frankly, I see this as a severe underestimation of Linc's strength of character, and this is where we really do need to consider the degree of calculation and confidence that goes into Linc's decision making and risk taking. What I'm saying is, Linc simply doesn't fall victim to selfish impulses that way (and within the group this is a quality unique to him!). Moreover, even if Linc might have his doubts in Norm and his plan, he still has significantly more reason to go with that than to listen to Scary. Seriously, Linc has every reason to not listen to Scary here. When it comes to what Linc cares about the most, Scary has without a doubt harmed Linc more than the Doodler ever could (The significance of Tony Pepperoni being stabbed in Linc's home in front of his dad  c a n n o t  be forgotten or understated!!!). Even if Linc didn't care at all about showing empathy to the Doodler, if he were acting purely out of selfishness he would still have more reason to do so if only because it means not giving the satisfaction to or otherwise helping Scary (and Willy).
But Scary is confused, and Scary is lonely, and from her perspective she probably does feel betrayed. We (and Linc) are given some important information regarding Scary in this episode. Firstly, we get a glimpse into how Willy has twisted things and convinced her that violence is the better option (not because it's easier per se, but because more people will apparently be saved in the long run). Second, Linc finally understands what Scary needs... Or at least what she doesn't need. Specifically, he understands that simply saying "I love you" isn't enough. He understands that Scary will never believe it no matter how many times it is said, and that to really prove to Scary that she is loved and get through to her, he needs to show her, has to prove to her that, despite everything, he is still on her side.
Linc, I dare argue more than any of the teens, has so much reason to leave Scary behind. But he understands her now, and, against Normal's wishes, listens to her. In a weird way (if I'm not dead wrong about this whole empathy thing), this kind of is Linc's "throne of the doodler" equivalent. It would be so easy to not break the pic, to not choose to (help and) empathize with Scary after all the pain she has caused him, but that's not the kind of person Linc is, and I hope the points I raised earlier make that reasonably clear.
So no, I don't think Linc chose the easy option. I think he believes himself when he says that sometimes the harder route is the better one, and followed through on this when he took his shot.
Sincerely, if you think the Doodler is just a scared teen deserving of empathy and sacrifice and making tough decisions, but Scary isn't, then I think you've missed the point. The Doodler is just acting out and needs help, but when Scary or Linc break an anchor through violence (be it violently empathetic or not), we give up on them? We hope for Normal to abandon them when they're hurting and depict it as deserved or even righteous? I can't get behind that, I'm sorry. 
Furthermore, whereas Norm would certainly be justified in feeling concerned for the Doodler's sake if Linc's actions count as an act of violence, apart from that like, if Norm chooses to interpret Linc reaching out and showing support to someone as lost and alone and in need of help as Scary as a personal attack against him, either as a betrayal of their friendship (Norm is very jealousy-prone we’ve known this from the start!) or as a direct attack against Norm's perfect little violence-free narrative that lets him be the hero regardless of who gets left behind wait does he actually just hate Hero cause of her name hm, then that is, respectfully, completely a problem with him, and not with Linc. I think if Normal actually snaps from this, then his entire philosophy of choosing empathy is based on a lie, and Norm just wants to follow the narrative that allows him to be the hero on paper, so that everybody finally loves him.
Well that's a bit harsh huh. Believe it or not, I'm genuinely not trying to throw Norm under the bus here. But... I am trying to expose his flaws and shortcomings in relation to the other teens. This is important moving forward, because in refusing to seriously acknowledge the fact that Norm, while still having plenty of good in his heart, is someone who can be quite self-centered, and ultimately cares about being well-perceived and loved first and foremost, we become blind to the ways in which Norm, like Scary, is vulnerable to future instances of manipulation. That bit on appearance vs. true compassion isn't mere interpretation, by the way, Will has stated this quite clearly in episode 27 of teen talk (and in general I'd really rather not rely on that kind of bonus content in these sorts of posts but, well, it's hard to ignore this):
**
Will: (In reference to Norm's scene in the pride layer) "I feel like I understand Normal better now, like a kind of darker side of his psyche that's different from Henry... Like Henry's very concerned with being a good person but I don't think is super concerned with whether people like him or not, whereas Normal is like a little concerned with being a good person but *mostly* concerned- it's two different ways to solve love [he explains what it implies for Henry], the other is 'if everyone else likes me, that means I can take that in as well'."
**
I need to stress that I am not trying to imply that Norm is anywhere close to being a bad person, btw. Normal, like everybody else, has his flaws, but has proven that he has plenty of good qualities as well. What I *am* trying to imply is that Norm does have a tendency to put himself at the center of things, and is from a more meta standpoint benefiting from a narrative that puts him at the center of things (more or less guaranteeing that he will be seen as a hero of sorts no matter what- evident even in how fandom largely depicts him vs the other teens), and I'm just saying that if ever he found himself in Oakvale by some chance he might really appreciate the enforced anti-violence initiative put in place by the town's noble leader who really just gets him and praises him and-
I know (almost) nobody wants to hear this, but if Normal actually had a villain arc, it would most likely consist of him falling down the same path that Barry did. Barry was a hero, on paper. And the people around him certainly saw him as such, and loved and accepted him in some sense of the word, which is what he truly wanted at the end of the day. And he got rid of all the violence!!! 
But none of that makes Barry a good person.
*sniff sniff*
Hey... Has anyone else noticed the distinct lack of stinky weebs in this post?
As much as I myself am a bit more interested in the Linc side of things right now, I do need to talk a bit (or a lot) about Taylor too. My little guy! You haven't even had a proper, serious character arc yet and people have already decided that you don't have a shot vis a vis the upcoming anchors, despite easily being the most emotionally resilient and stable of the group. You know what, I'm gonna throw in most loyal too. If you'll humor me...
Taylor may not be the most empathetic of the teens (in fact, he may very well be the least), but this doesn't mean he doesn't care, and doesn't mean he isn't kind in his own way. What's particular about Taylor's brand of loyalty compared to the other teens that I think might make it a bit easy to overlook is that it while it is very strong, it tends to be reserved only for the people he chooses to call his friends (oh, and his mom!). There's no question of Taylor's choice to disregard what Nick tells him and go back to save Linc from the FBI, it embodies some of the most fundamental parts of who Taylor is as a person. Which I guess is to say that, there are ultimately only so many people Taylor chooses to have in his circle, but those bonds are extremely important to him, and he really is ride or die about them. I think that this aspect is most obvious when looking either at Taylor's relationship with Linc or Cassandra, but also with Hermie actually! Oh, and similar to the example with the FBI, Taylor's response to the whole Tony situation is perfectly consistent with this aspect of his character as well. Tony was not part of Taylor's circle, not someone he chose to let himself get attached to (because when Taylor gets attached to someone, it is indeed a very deliberate choice), so no, he's not gonna care that much about Tony's death. But he is bothered by Scary's betrayal. He is bothered because, even if they weren't the closest, Scary was, I would argue, still part of Taylor's circle. And yes, he is bothered by Linc leaving him alone in the last episode for the same reason, except that in this case it's probably worse actually. I know I'm straying pretty far from the original topic here, but still I think it's worth exploring the interesting position this puts Taylor in going forward, especially with respect to Nick. 
("Seriously baba when did this become about Nicky literally what are you talking about right now?")
Thus far, Taylor has made it very clear that no, he is not going to allow Nick to be someone he becomes attached to. There's a risk, in loving and becoming loyal to someone as strongly as Taylor does, and Nicky has not yet proven himself to be a risk worth taking. So what happens next? Nicky is (finally) around after all, so what might the future hold for little Taylor? On the one hand, Nicky's "words of advice" might begin to get through to Taylor, which could leave him in a pretty dangerous position. Taylor takes a big risk every time he lets someone in (everyone does but Taylor more than all the others because of how fully he loves and trusts and protects, is what I'm saying- er... He's a lot like his dad that way actually!), so what if Nick convinces him that nobody is worth that risk, and that everyone you hold dear will ultimately betray you? Well, I think we'd be left with a very lonely Taylor! Conversely, what if Nicky decides to prove himself worthy of Taylor's love? What if Taylor comes around and lets him in? ahaha shit I feel like there's a bad joke to be made about Taylor keeping his dad at arms length and his dad not having any arms right now god fucking damn it what even is this post. Will Nicky be able to maintain that trust? If he abandoned Taylor again, after Taylor has allowed himself to become attached (or if something happens to Nicky cause lets face it horrible things tend to happen to Nicky), I think Taylor might finally have a hard time getting back up.
What the fuck was I talking about? Oh yeah, so I guess going back to Norm, on the one hand, I guess on the more extreme end Taylor could actually take Linc's actions very hard, in which case I actually could see him sticking with Norm as an act of self-preservation. That said, I don't personally feel that this will be the case, that Linc is still ultimately in Taylor's circle, and accordingly Taylor's loyalty towards Linc will persist, albeit perhaps with a seed of doubt sewn at the back of his mind. And I don't think in that case that it's fair to frame this as Taylor betraying Normal? As others have pointed out, Norm frankly just hasn't really earned much in the way of Taylor's friendship. Really, as far as I'm concerned, Taylor doesn't really owe Norm much of anything at all. From the very beginning Norm has made it clear that he doesn't particularly care for Taylor, and ultimately has let his own jealousy and desire for attention (especially Linc and Hermie's attention) get in the way of ever really getting to know or appreciate Taylor beyond the surface level. Would I call it betrayal for Taylor to choose to continue to support his best friend instead of the guy who told him that anime isn't real? No, and I think the double standard is pretty obvious if we consider the reverse. That is, if Taylor chose Norm over Linc, after everything he and Linc have been through, would we be framing Linc as the victim of some grand betrayal? I genuinely don't think we would, at least not to the extent that we would with Norm. I suppose I'm saying all this, because well as aforementioned I just find there's been a lot of undeserved cynicism towards Taylor, and I think a lot of it does genuinely come from Normal's privileged position within the narrative as its de facto "hero" and what is most convenient for maintaining that image (and when I say "hero", that does include "righteous villains" who "deserve(d) to snap", just so we're clear on that).
Hmmmm I kinda wanna talk about Taylor and Normal as each other's foils but this post is getting a bit long isn't it... *Sigh* Not today, no, not today.
......Okay but still I have to say that if Taylor actually does finally get his "main character moment" I actually think that would be a great opportunity for Norm to acknowledge, reconcile, and learn to cope both with his jealousy and the parts of himself that are self-centered. Conversely, if Taylor does for one reason or another stray a bit too far into the habit of keeping people at arm's length out of fear of abandonment, betrayal, or the like, I think he could learn something from Norm too (having trouble phrasing exactly what I mean here, so perhaps I'll save the full notion for another time!)
So that's... Yeah, I think that's the most important stuff. I debated on sort of elaborating on examples of Norm's major character flaws, but despite everything my intent here was first and foremost to offer a "defense of the other teens" more than anything else. Though I will say that I think there is something to be said about how Normal's self-centeredness gets in the way of his ability to actually help those around him (Grant and Taylor both being great examples in "The Staircase"), how this contrasts with Linc's willingness to actually listen to and figure out what Scary needs in this most recent episode, and accordingly what Normal could potentially learn from Linc about not just choosing the route that's easiest for you.
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